"Hunger, Part 19": He laughed derisively. “You’ll find that I’ve learned a few tricks along the way. I didn’t spend all my time cutting trees and forging steel.” The NKVD man ignored him and gestured with his right hand. There was a brief flare of light around his prisoner. “I like this cell. It has all of my special preparations.” “A summoning circle. Nice. I assume that a ritual of binding is next.” “Indeed.” The chekist eyed him suspiciously. He stood up, stretching his legs. “Very well. This should be entertaining.” The colonel gestured again. “I need you quiet so I concentrate.” The man felt the power settle around him and fell quiet. His captor opened a panel in one wall that had been invisible until that moment and extracted five short, fat candles, a stole and an obsidian knife. He laid them out on the table and murmured in Greek. After placing the stole around his shoulders, he took the first candle. A pass of his hand over it and a flame caught on the wick. He let it go on the border of where the light had flared. It floated four feet off the ground. His captor repeated the procedure with the other candles until they hovered around him, marking the edge of the circle that contained him. He watched the proceedings, amused. The colonel started a low chant in a language far older than Greek. The hairs on his forearms stood on end as eldritch power flowed through the circle. He was silent, watching, until the colonel picked up the knife and drew it across his own palm. As the blood welled out, he exploded into motion, stepping right through the circle. A flash of heat caused his shirt to smoulder but otherwise left him unharmed. Before the shocked chekist could react he had him backed against the wall, one hand gripping the throat above his uniform collar. His other hand brushed against the opened palm, gathering blood on two fingers. As he raised those fingers to the colonel’s face he said, “Do you know what happens if I make you taste this blood?” The terror in his interrogator’s eyes answered his query. Despite that knowledge, his mouth opened. “How did . . .” That was as far as he got before the two digits pushed in, wiping the blood along his tongue. That done, the man released his grip and turned away. He deliberately took each of the candles, blew them out and set them back on the table. He ignored the choking sounds behind him. The knife, which the colonel had dropped in his shock, joined them. He made sure that everything was neatly arranged. Only then did he return his attention to the uniformed man writhing on the floor. “I’d feel guilty if you hadn’t been trying to do the same thing to me.” He squatted next to the magus. “It is unfortunate that the spell is trying to make you both master and servant. I’ve heard that that produces a very painful feedback.” The only reply was a keening whine.
Posted on: Sat, 15 Jun 2013 02:56:37 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015