Monster Hunter Nemesis by Larry Correia Read Free Book Online Page B

administration of petulant children and useless Ivy League college lecturers leaked like a sieve. Who the fuck are you to tell me how to do my job? “Thank you, Mr. President. I’ll see to it that my people use the utmost discretion.”
    He was escorted out of the White House. Stricken’s name would never show up on any visitor’s log. His job title was Special Advisor, but the most dogged of reporters would never be able to figure out what was special about him or who he advised. His Task Force didn’t formally exist, his budget was nebulous, and most importantly he had almost zero oversight. By government standards, Stricken was a ghost, though he thought that was a stupid comparison, since he had real ghosts working for him.
    He made a single, brief phone call on his ride to STFU’s secret headquarters. “We’re on.”
    Events were in motion. Franks would be dead soon enough.

CHAPTER 3
    Every mortal being existed before. Long before this world came to be, there was a world of spirits. There’s a barrier between these two worlds. When humans are born they forget all that came before. I was never born. I do not have this problem. But as long as my spirit dwells in this body I am forced to use a human brain. It is as reliable as a lump of electrically charged fat and protein can be, but flesh can’t fully comprehend the world before. My memory of the before is imperfect.
    There was a great council. The Creator presented us with The Plan. There was a disagreement over The Plan. This disagreement led to a war. One third of us broke our oath and rebelled against the Creator.
    The fallen made war against the loyal. I was one of the most powerful, but my strength was not enough.
    We lost.
    The spirits that remained loyal would be born into the mortal world, progress, and eventually return. They were part of The Plan. The third of the host who rebelled were cast out, never to be born, never to have a mortal life or real bodies. Our leaders were cursed, and all who followed were condemned and cast out of the Creator’s presence.
    Now, Hell . . . That I remember well enough.

    11 Days Ago
    Washington, DC

    Franks lay on the floor of his apartment, staring at the ceiling.
    Since he worked with humans, he kept a human schedule. That meant activity during the day and sleep at night. It was a rather pointless schedule for a man who didn’t really sleep. It was one reason that he preferred to be on an op, because during an op working around the clock wasn’t seen as odd.
    Today would be a talky day. He hated that sort of thing. He hated talking. He hated the squishy, pathetic, government-appointed flesh bag overseers wasting his time arguing about regulations and picking apart the definition of words. Franks hated Washington. Of every human city, and he’d been to most of them, it was the worst. He’d rather have been in the slums of Mexico City strangling chupacabras with his bare hands. This city had been named after a true warrior, and Franks knew General Washington would be enraged if he could see the quality of human that dwelled here now. The general would probably run a few of them through with his sword.
    Basically, Franks really hated bureaucrats.
    At exactly four Franks got off the floor. Since he could see in the dark he didn’t bother turning on any lights. He had grown tired of being stared at in the MCB’s gym, so Franks had rented a basement apartment specifically so he could have a comprehensive weight set and not have it fall through the floor. He worked out for exactly forty-five minutes. One of his arms had taken a hit from the dragon in Las Vegas, so he kept his bench press to a mere seven hundred pounds so as to not stress it until the Elixir had time to properly re-form that bone.
    There was no ornamentation anywhere in Franks’ apartment. The walls were still painted the same builder beige as when he’d moved in. There were no pictures, no mementos, and barely any furniture. Franks showered in his