Notna by J.D. Cunegan

Author:J.D. Cunegan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: supernatural, paranormal, demons, apocalypse, Chosen One, mystical artifacts, war, end of the world
Publisher: J.D. Cunegan
Published: 2017-11-10T00:00:00+00:00

FIVE YEARS LATER

As soon as Alex Demostricus’ eyes flew open, rage overtook him. He felt it coursing through his veins, and he bolted from the hard cot he had been lying on. Frowning at his surroundings—crucifixes hanging from the wall, mocking him at every turn—he turned his head and snarled when he saw Rafal Ambrosio sitting in the corner with a dark grin on his face.

The kindly old priest, who had always been on the pale side, rose with ease, eyes wide and frantic. He approached Alex and grabbed his pupil by the shoulders. Rafal’s smile did not fade when Alex pushed the hands away with a growl. “You are awake,” Rafal muttered in awe. “I was worried I had taken too much.”

“What have you done?” Alex cocked his head to the side. He frowned when the tip of his tongue pressed against one of his teeth. It was far longer than he remembered, and Alex reached up to press his finger against it. The tooth was sharp at the end, and Alex’s eyes locked with Rafal’s. Though the old man still smiled, the light in his eyes had shifted into something else entirely.

Alex had never seen such a thing in Rafal’s eyes before, and while he wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but he enjoyed it. So Alex took a step forward, his hands balling into fists. Rafal took a step back for every step Alex took, and the young man’s shoulder-length hair brushed teasingly against his neck. The sensation was far too intense for Alex’s liking, and it only added to his agitation.

“What did you do to me?” he repeated, reaching out and grabbing Rafal by the throat.

“I showed you the way,” the old man answered.

Running his tongue over his fangs again, Alex’s eyes narrowed. He tightened his grip on Rafal, taking pleasure in the way his nails dug into the old man’s flesh. “Is this God’s doing?”

Rafal barked in laughter, his head tossed back. He had far more energy than someone his age should have, and even as blood trickled down the side of his neck, Rafal appeared to be none the worse for it.

Alex tightened his grip in response, gritting his teeth and slamming Rafal back-first into the closest wall. A crucifix fell to the floor and broke into three pieces; the stone carving of Jesus stared at the ceiling, the look of anguish on his face long since burned into Alex’s memory.

“You are better than a god,” Rafal boasted in a low voice. “You have been my greatest pupil, my brightest young mind and my most capable body. To see you wither and die with the rest of these mortals would have been a tragedy.”

“You don’t get to decide my future!” Alex argued.

“I did no such thing,” Rafal said with a quirked brow. “You are destined for great things, young Demostricus. This world can be yours for the taking, if you so choose.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Humanity is cunning,” Rafal explained, “but it is weak; as a species, they are not long for this world.

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