Vilmo's Wrath: Deglon Blood

Vilmo’s Wrath

Deglon Blood

Lachesha W.B.

Copyright © 2011 Lachesha Williams/Berrian

Edited By: Kathryn Riehl

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author by email at [email protected], except with brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN- 978-1508493280

All characters, places, and events in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, places or event is coincidental.

Discover other titles by Lachesha W.B @ www.fictionthrill.com

I’d like to thank my husband and children; the most important people in my life. Their endless love, support and encouragement is the reason I write. They give me the strength to keep trying. Although my stories are written with my crazy imagination, they are put together with love, and I have my family to thank for that.

I give thanks to God for his touch on my life and to you, the readers. Thank you so much for your support and for allowing me to temporarily pull you into my world.

Prologue

D
arkness holds me completely still, my breathing echoes, bouncing from wall-to-wall. Screams for help, make my heart stop as a tightness forms in my chest. A child screams and panic stricken. I run blindly toward the sound. “Please tell me where you are!” I yell, but there is no answer. The cries grow louder, sending electrifying fear through me. “I’m coming!” I cry searching for the voice in the darkness. Running faster and faster, gasping for air, I reach a white door. The screams stop. Silence freezes me, petrifying me worse than the screams themselves. “Hello?” I repeat a few times, hoping for even a whimper that would tell my aching heart that I am not too late.

For a long moment, only the thud of my beating heart pounds in my ears. Suddenly, one horrible long scream from the child pierces my ears, almost bringing me to my knees. “Nora, they need you.” A gentle, familiar voice says, sending to my core a desperate need to protect whoever is on the other side. Swallowing my fear, I slam myself through the heavy door and brace myself for action. Never have I seen such horror. Blood drips from the walls and next to a small, lifeless body—sprawled on the white floor, another bloody child stands, faceless—holding my head in his hand.

M
ia’s muscles tense, bulging veins pulse violently beneath her skin, her eyes widen, and her grimacing teeth are bared. She
squirms and roars, staring bitterly up at Dumont. He smiles and leans in close to her face. So close that the prodigious funk of rot that makes his decaying teeth blacken stirs up the contents in her stomach almost provoking her morning sickness.

“Get off of me!” Mia yells.

She lies in her bed with Dumont crouched over her. His eyes, big and dark, like looking into an endless pit to nowhere. As she stares at them, a coldness comes over her. She shivers as his gaze tugs at her soul. He binds her hands and feet with only a thought. A tear trickles down Mia’s face as he strokes her small bulging belly.

“They are already so powerful,” he says excitedly. “You will allow me one of them or I will kill both of them, Mia.”

Dumont runs his sharp fingernails across her stomach. She flinches as they rip through the top layer of her flesh. Dumont grins. For a long moment, he gazes at her. His expression is calm, yet unnerving.

“Your lack of fear is admirable,” Dumont says.

Mia’s eyes squint. The hatred that fills her glare causes Dumont’s smile to grow.

“My children will never …”

Dumont places his hand over her mouth. He bites his free wrist, drawing blood. Mia squirms. He squeezes the back of her jaws, opening her mouth. The moment his blood hits her teeth, she trembles. Dumont climbs off her.

“I will claim every mind and slay every innocent around you until I get what I want. The people in any city you try to hide in will pay for your selfishness. You have one month to make your decision or I will make it for you. Hiding is not an option, Mia. We are now connected. I will always find you.”

“Kill me now! I will never give you my babies,” Mia growls.

Dumont nods.

“I thought you’d say that. Look out your door,” he says vanishing.

Mia jumps from her bed and scrambles to the front doorway. A heartbreaking sight fills her chest with heaviness. A ghastly paleness spreads over her face and guilt almost stops her heart. For a long moment, her eyes rest on the bodies of her neighbors, lying in the street. Slowly she steps out onto her porch. She tries to look away, not wanting to see any more of Dumont’s destruction, but her eyes force her to be witness to the devastating massacre. Blood painted the grass and pavements, stretching throughout the entire village. Every home for miles is in flames. All livestock and animals have been killed, and every person is dead—apart from a circle of men that assemble around one man. Mia gasps.

Chris clenches his jaws, holding in his screams as he is drained of his strength and beaten by angry men. With each blow Chris inhales, taking shallow breaths. The harsh pulses of pain that radiates throughout his body soon brings only numbness, making his undeserved punishment bearable. The town Sheriff, Kraven Moss, stands nearby laughing. His heavy chuckle gets louder each time Chris is struck.

“No! Stop!” Mia shouts, racing down her porch steps with her spike.

“Mia, no! Stay back. The ruby! Run!” Chris yells beneath the crowd that pounds at him with sticks and metal bars.

Mia races back into the house.

“Stop!” Kraven yells, walking toward Chris.

The men make a path, allowing Kraven to easily make eye contact with Chris. Kraven grips the ruby stone he wears around his neck and grins.

Chris gets to his knees, wiping the blood from his mouth and holding his left rib cage. His brows pull down, making crinkle lines on his forehead. His eyes are blazed with a heavy concentration on Kraven’s every move and his heart pulses rapidly as each of Kraven’s steps gets closer. He clenches his fist tight, unknowingly digging his fingernails into his palms. The anger in his stare draws Kraven to a fear-filled halt. Chris can feel Kraven’s uneven heart palpitations as he mentally tries to gather the courage to come closer. Chris’ eyes glow brightly for a moment. Kraven flinches. Chris grins. Kraven quickly gathers his composure and pretends that his excessive sweating his caused by the temperature.

“It’s warm out here, isn’t it?” he asks wiping his forehead.

The silence that surrounds him assures him he is fooling no one with his act. He adjusts his pants and continues to approach Chris.

“Have you heard the tales of Angels that live here on earth? Yeah, you know the stories well—don’t you? They say that some of you
gifted
could be them. But me—I don’t believe that. I have killed many gifted and noticed nothing angelic about you. What do you say, Chris? Are you an almighty blessed warrior?” Kraven asks getting close to Chris’ face.

Chris’ expressions intensify.

“No. You are nothing. Those are just ridiculous myths. A story created to make you feel as important as the rest of us. I really don’t understand the boss’ fascination with you people.”

“You know I’m going to kill you, don’t you?” Chris whispers.

Again trying to hide his fear, Kraven laughs and grabs Chris’ face. Nose to nose Kraven glares at Chris then again smiles widely.

“You so-called gifted are impostors to humanity and I will find all of you. All of you are nothing but rabid animals and I will put you down,” Kraven whispers.

“Why is it you know nothing about the people you are so willing to kill? You call us impostors? That’s funny coming from you. Sadly for you I am no gifted,” Chris says.

Kraven’s eyes grow wide.

“But you know this—don’t you? I can see it in your cowardly stare. If you are so sure Szion or
Angels
don’t exist, then why do you wear that ruby?” Chris asks.

Kraven releases Chris’ face and takes a few steps back.

“Take a deep breath, Chris. It will be your last,” Kraven says, raising his blade high.

Chris closes his eyes and laughs, creating a numbing panic through Kraven. Chris twirls the ruby in his hand and stands. Eyes widen and hearts pound heavily. The men that moments ago, so viciously brutalized Chris, now stand rooted to the ground, petrified. Kraven drops his sword and his eyes plead for mercy.

“You have a secret you hide from your loyal followers, don’t you,
Sheriff
?” Chris asks, circling Kraven.

He squeezes the stone, cracking it enough to weaken Kraven.

“Your leader has not been honest with you. Only a Szion or a demon can control the power of a ruby. So, I bet you men are wondering which of the two, brave Kraven is. You look for demons within this village, killing innocent people when the true monster is hidden within your group.”

Chris grabs Kraven’s sword. His eyes turn bright white and his fangs drop from his gums. The men gasp and inch away. Chris sternly looks at each face. Each man more terrified than the next.

“Why is the stone not working anymore?” Kraven asks; his voice trembles.

“This stone is activated by its owner’s strength. Your fear weakens you. You want to show these men, beasts, and monsters, yet you hide within their world, pretending to be loyal to their god—acting as if you are one of them.”

Chris stares at Kraven waiting to hear the lie that would come from his mouth. Kraven’s bottom lip quivers and his eyes dart from place to place looking for a way to escape the death he knows is coming.

“I am just doing what …”

“I know. You do as you’re told. You are nothing but Dumont’s puppet,” Chris says.

Kraven frowns.

“I am no one’s puppet. I deserve this life!” He yells.

“Reveal yourself,” Chris says in a soft tone.

Kraven shakes his head.

“Reveal yourself!” Chris growls.

Kraven flinches, his eyes turn orange and his skin black. The men that follow him gasp and step further away. Both fear and confusion linger on their faces.

“Run! Tell everyone. Szions exist and your demons and monsters are most likely the ones leading you.”

Chris shatters the stone and swings the sword removing Kraven’s head. Still frozen with fear the men don’t move. Chris turns toward them again.

“Run!” he growls.

The men scatter.

Chris races to Mia, who now stands on her porch.

“Are you Okay?” he asks.

Mia nods.

“Your family?” she asks.

Tears run down Chris’ cheeks.

“Clair got away. She’s alone. I must find her before more of Dumont’s goons do,” he says. “You need to leave. It's not safe here. I will send for Noah. He will find you.”

Mia sobs as he walks away.

A war few knew was coming sweeps over the world like a tidal wave. Victory seemed impossible and for the first time humans were not the Szion’s first priority. Szion fear that life as they know—could soon be over. They are afraid that the stories about them have dwindled to only myths, they too were rapidly ceasing to exist. Soon their kind would be distant memories. Stories told by the elderly that no one believes.

Eight weeks later:

Mia screams. A flash of light strikes her chest, slamming her into the far wall of her house. Blood spills from her mouth and nose. She stumbles back to her feet and charges the blinding Lights that brutally assault her and her husband. Mia and Noah fight, ready to give their lives to protect their newborn twins. More Light than they have ever faced at one-time attack them.

As Mia thrusts her spike through a Light, splattering black sludge all over her living room furniture, she glances over at Noah and simpers. Even in the midst of battle, Noah feels her gaze and smiles.

“Will it be tonight?” Mia asks.

Noah’s grin widens as he rips his spike from one Light and pushes it into another.

“Not tonight. It will not be Light that kill us. That I promise you,” he says spinning and stabbing a Light behind Mia.

Side by side, they stand, waiting for more Light to enter their home. Intense pain ripples through Mia, shooting pressure into her insides. She falls to the floor, gripping her stomach.

“The girls!” she yells.

Noah rushes into his twins’ room to find black smoke lingering around the cribs. He throws his spike at the Shadow slipping out the window. Terror claws at his heart. He walks over to the cribs, in a mere second his entire world becomes crippling and he falls to his knees. Mia walks in, a thick congestion of dread sits on her chest. She stops in the center of the room and weeps. Breathing is hard, her insides quiver and she is wrapped in a chill of emptiness.

“Noah,” she whispers.

Noah looks up at her from the floor. His tear-filled eyes confirm her disturbing assumptions.

“No! Not my babies!” she cries.

Noah looks to the floor.  A low whimper comes from one of the cribs and Mia races toward the cry. She pulls back the blanket that covers the infant and smiles. Mia lifts her baby in her arms and kisses her. She looks at the other crib and again weakens at the emptiness that takes the place of her child.

“I will find her, Mia,” Noah says, standing to his feet.

Mia nods. She places a kiss on her baby's head and hands her to Noah.