Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D. (45 page)

BOOK: Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D.

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WARNING:

STOP
HERE TO LEAVE OFF

WITH A HAPPILY EVER AFTER

…OR

CONTINUE ON TO THE

DARK

CLIFFHANGER THAT LEADS

INTO THE SEQUEL...

muhaha…

YOU WERE WARNED!

I KNEW YOU WERE GOING

TO DO IT!

LAST CHANCE…

TURN BACK NOW!

CLIFF (hanger) AHEAD!

YOU ASKED FOR IT …

SO HERE WE GO…

Chapter 25

FOUR DAYS EARLIER

Steven, as he had done
every
minute for the last four days, spent his time focusing, straining, moving stealthily along the walls, trying to find a weakness in the generated field of his cell. A weakness that would allow him to reach out and touch Ashlyn’s mind.

Enlil’s death had been a ruse. The sword, a lure. When Steven had removed it from the pedestal, he had triggered the trap that Enlil had set for him. As the door to the armory silently slid closed, locking him in—a generated field dampened his abilities.

Enlil had been hiding in the shadows, patiently watching, waiting. With the trap sprung, from out of the shadows, an old white-haired woman stepped forward. “Did you really think me so easily beaten, Tin Man? I am surprised that you were so easily fooled.

“You were so kind, even having one of the Guardians carry me home. No one thought to suspect the fragile, little woman who walked in from the desert,” Enlil said. “If they had only known.”

The woman then changed into Enlil, again taking his natural, tall, white-haired form. “You were boringly predictable. It was all so very disappointing. I thought you to be so much more than you were.

“And now, look.” Enlil transformed into Steven, and in Steven’s voice said, “You have lost—everything!” Putting his arms out wide, he gloated.

“I now have a powerful Anunnaki ship to take me to Heaven, where my father will bow before me, begging me to spare his world, his people! He will beg my forgiveness—as will he curse me when I burn Heaven beneath his feet!” Enlil’s eyes were like fire. He laughed, staring upwards, far beyond the cavern’s ceiling. His vengeful mind pictured his attack upon the home world.

“You’re insane!” said Steven.

Hearing Steven’s outburst, Enlil’s eyes lowered to meet Steven’s. “Perhaps—but I can see it in your eyes, Tin Man, even you believe this guise will fool your whore.

“I have had thousands of years to plan. And I must say, you played perfectly into my hands. I lost a fleet, but you have brought me a ship more powerful than all of them together.

“Yes, I have been toying with you. Since your arrival here, I let your people think I was weak, seemingly sacrificing my forces for no reason. Do you not see, by pretending to lose everything—you felt secure, letting your guard down. And now, you have given me back far more than I lost. All that was yours is now mine.

“Not only do I have your ship, but I have your whore. She will soon be spreading her legs for me, her screams begging me for more as I impale her.

“But first, she will come to me wanting to suckle. You see, Tin Man, by genetic design, the seed of the Anunnaki male releases chemicals that bring contentment to them. It deepens a female’s passion, heightening their sense of pleasure and happiness. The more they get, the more passionate and happier they become. They are like a baby wanting to suckle from its mother’s teat. They need it often—and they want it constantly.

“She will be a slave to me, seeking to satisfy a craving thirst that cannot be satisfied. This is the Anunnaki way.”

Enlil drifted away, reminiscently. “It has been thousands of years since I have tasted the soft, engorged breasts of an Anunnaki female. My craving is beyond desperate—I long for the contentment they give.

“As for you, if you are thinking that you will soon be found by your friends above—don’t. I made it easy for you to find this chamber, purposely leaving the tunnel beneath the throne open for you to find. Even the scanner was false, letting you believe you were clever in having found it—but I can guarantee you, the tunnel will never be found again. I will be locking the throne into position, forever sealing it off. Once locked, it is impossible to move.

“A fitting tomb—don’t you agree? Enjoy your new home, Tin Man.” Enlil took a step backward, starting to depart. “You must excuse me, but I am in painful need of having the mouth of your whore upon me,” said Enlil, grabbing his own desirously swollen shaft. “Yes, great need.”

And with those punishing last words, Enlil, in the image of Steven, smiled sadistically and turned away.

Steven’s screams chased after Enlil, until long after he was gone from sight.

Steven tore at the bars, searching for the powers that had been given him, but within the field, he was powerless.

Steven heard the throne, its large, stone mass grinding as it moved. It was followed a moment later by a massive
thud
as it dropped into place, forever sealing him in.

As the days slipped away, he tried using the tools within the armory, all to no avail.

He was without water, without food.

Steven could only hope that the Gift of Life was at work slowing his death, but he was also aware, that even with the Gift, with no sustenance, death was an inevitability.

Yet, it was for Ashlyn and his children that he would continue to hold on. For they knew not of the horror that was standing at their side.

With each breath, as his mind sought to escape his cell, he implored,
Ashlyn—I beg of you. Hear me!