Wormwood Dawn (Episode IV) by Edward Crae Read Free Book Online

turned toward the dark opening. Dan waited in anticipation, his eyes glued to the darkness beyond the portal. The cackling grew more intense, and recognized the sound of Shamblers; two of them, at least.
    “You guys are fucked,” Dan said. “You picked the wrong career path.”
    “Shut up, asshole,” the lead man said.
    Dan opened his mouth to return the pleasantries, but was cut off just as a screaming Shambler burst through the opening. Tough guy and his cronies immediately broke into a panic, backing away and clawing each other to escape. The Shambler roared with excitement and charged the closest merc, grasping him with its claws and pinning him against the wall.
    In the opening, another Shambler appeared; this one exceptionally moldy and deformed. It displayed its rotting teeth as it growled, and the remaining two men froze. The Shambler charged, grabbing onto the lead merc and tackling him to the floor.
    As his buddies screamed in agony, the remaining merc circled them and bolted toward the door. Dan watched him as he disappeared into the shadows, only to let loose a blood-curdling scream that sent Dan’s heart into a beating frenzy. He sat frozen, not wanting to look, but unable to tear his eyes away. The Shamblers savagely tore away at the mercs’ flesh, oblivious to their screams of agony. The sound of ripping flesh was almost deafening, and Dan gritted his teeth in terror and excitement.
    The third Shambler entered the room, struggling with the final merc and throwing him to the floor. The man had rolled over onto his stomach and desperately clawed the stone in order to pull himself away. But the Shambler’s claws tore into his back, ripping a long gash into his flesh that spewed blood like a faucet. The merc pleaded for his life, reaching out in Dan’s direction with a desperate look on his bloody face.
    Dan locked eyes with him, fearful and almost sympathetic.
    “ H-help me!” the merc shouted, choking as the blood gushed from his twisted mouth.
    Dan turned his head, clenching his eyes shut. He sipped his whiskey, hoping it would slow his breathing. His heart was about to explode, and his revulsion brought a lump to his throat.
    “Not gonna puke,” he said out loud. “Not gonna puke.”
    Through the screams, he heard a panel slide behind him, and felt the familiar sense of something standing there. He opened his eyes, anticipating the inevitable presence of his captor. A low, cackling laugh sounded near his head, and he once again closed his eyes. The tiny sting of a needle in his neck finally drowned out the screams in front of him, and the rush of narcotic bliss flowed through him.
    “Soon, Dan,” the voice said. “Soon you will be free.”
     
    There were the sounds of clanking metal around him, and the dripping of water. Dan opened his eyes, seeing nothing but darkness, and the faint glint of moonlight off of numerous chains hanging around him. He was suspended from his wrists, hanging from the low ceiling; just high enough for his toes to scrape the floor if he extended them painfully.
    He struggled in the shackles that gripped his wrists, causing a reaction in the chains around him. They moved when he moved, and their ends made sickening scraping sounds on the floor as they swung. But it was not as sickening as the feel of corroded metal digging into his flesh, or the warm blood that ran down his arms in slow, tiny rivers.
    “Fuck,” he whispered.
    The shackles were painful. They were quite obviously old and rusted, with sharp edges that were no doubt imparting some kind of infection into his bloodstream. But that was the least of his worries. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could see the forms of others hanging around him. They too were suspended by their wrists. There were four of them in all, limp and unmoving. There were faint moans, telling him that at least a few of them were still alive.
    He stretched his feet down to the floor to relieve the pain in his wrists. He groaned as