Necrophobia by Mark Devaney Read Free Book Online Page A

moments.”
    “I’d do it myself if I could. You’re a better shot than me and to be honest with you? My joints aren’t what they used to be.” He flexed his wizened fingers with a faint cracking noise on cue. She smiled at this. “Shoot Morveil, I’ll take care of the rest. If it helps he’s not really alive anymore. Or a person. He’s little more than the undead he’s commanding.”
    Looking at him she could believe it. The undead though disgusting were products of decay and poor preservation; but that man seemed twisted by something foul, something far worse. He lacked the flaming eyes of the others but looked no less dead.
    “I’ll do it. I know it’s stupid but—”
    “—No.” Razakel silenced her. “It’s not stupid at all. I understand completely Claire. I wish I’d hesitated half as much as you have. All these years, all the work I’ve done, always for the greater good. I’ve had to kill so much I forgot it should be difficult.”
    She smiled and nodded. Though not without noticing a curious emphasis on the word forgot. But she reasoned there was a time and place for things and they had a ritual to stop. She retrieved an arrow from her quiver and refastened her arrow-guard to her chest.
    “Once he’s down I’ll neutralise the cultists.” Razakel said. He walked across to another plinth staying out of sight. She could see him muttering beneath his breath preparing more spells and enchantments.
    She drew the bow back, the arrow primed and aimed at the lurching abomination still deep in argument with the other. In the eye of the storm the winds were less severe and the range optimal. She controlled her breathing, repeating training mantras within her head to calm herself and focused. She let loose and the arrow flew straight and true. Morveil twitched as the arrow stuck his temple and he collapsed into the snow without a word. Around him the undead twitched and spasmed as the green fire extinguished. Their now lifeless bodies collapsed into the snow and panic struck some of the cultists. Their enthralled kin did not react and continued patrolling. She saw the armoured man curse and glance around but he was too involved in his ritual; he couldn’t interrupt his spell. Claire realised she could end this with another arrow — if Morveil resurrected the dead perhaps the other enthralled the cultists. Killing him might free them and sow more chaos.
    A group of three cultists advanced towards her hiding spot, knives drawn and shouting to each other, her fingers trembling with adrenaline as she fumbled for another arrow. Razakel appeared from cover, his hands arcing with electricity and eldritch energy. He pointed a finger towards the advancing cultists who swore, and focused their attention on the approaching sorcerer. A blinding bolt struck them with thunder, the explosion sent them flying into the stone plinth, the bodies smoking and motionless. More distant shouts and exchanged magic blasts across the desecrated tomb. Claire aimed her bow once more and let loose another arrow this time towards the kneeling man. His hurried chanting and ritual inscriptions keeping him out of the fight. As the arrow flew towards him he reacted faster than she could see and snatched the arrow from the air with a snarl and snapped it with one hand. The other still tracing arcane and unholy symbols into the snow with blood.
    “Defend me!” He roared to the clueless cultists standing around him, their own chants interrupted. Unable to look away he swung his fist in a rage, on reflex she dove to one side. A split second later countless icicles embedded themselves in the rock where she’d been moments before; each shard buried deep into the solid rock. She ran forwards dodging more icicles and tendrils of green energy unleashed by the cultists as Razakel strode through the carnage deflecting their attacks and blasting them apart in a tranquil fury. Claire watched in horror as the body of Morveil twitched and rose