Gloom Rising (The Book Wielder Saga 1) (32 page)

“Veronica Hedgemoore,” he began. “I love you with all my heart, and no matter what fate has in store for us, I want to spend the future with you. Marry me.”

Veronica went bright red with embarrassment. “Yes, yes of course I will!”

He slipped the ring on her finger, got up, and kissed her passionately to the applause of the restaurants’ customers and staff.

“You are getting fucked so hard tonight, sweetie,” Veronica said loudly and carelessly. “But please don’t use my last name again. It’s embarrassing!”

“You won’t have to worry about that for much longer,” Winston smiled. “You’ll be Veronica Reynolds.”

She giggled and kissed him again.

They finished their meal and left the restaurant hand in hand, walking around the back of the building to Winston’s flashy white sports car.

Veronica grabbed Winston’s arse as he unlocked the car. “You are so going to get it, mister.”

A bullet slammed into the back of Winston’s head and ricocheted off in a flash of red magic. His ring of protection had saved his life, but he could feel its power waning. He pushed Veronica out of the way, who was still recovering from the shock of the initial gunshot, as another round from a tall building opposite them shot towards him. The large high calibre sniper round stopped inches from his face. He didn’t want it to hit him, so it didn’t. A second later, the bullet phased completely out of existence. Was this one of the abilities the Archmage had bestowed upon him?

Veronica snapped to her senses and got to her feet quickly, using her telekinetic powers to throw the silhouetted figure of the assassin off the roof. The would-be assassin dropped his rifle, but quickly recovered and readied himself for a good landing. It was a Vampire Nightclaw, and falling unhindered was one of their skills.

Winston focused on the falling figure, and it landed ungracefully with a thud and a snap. A female voice screamed and moaned in the distance. Did he do that?

Winston’s attention was snapped away by a male Mage dressed in a pair of jeans and a grey hoodie walking out of the shadows. An untransformed female Werewolf leapt over a fence to join him, wearing the similar casual clothing, and finally the female Vampire Nightclaw from the rooftop came walking along. She was covered in mud, her inconspicuous clothing caked in her own blood, and her expression was that of pure hatred though her wounds had already healed completely.

“A Trinity hit squad,” Veronica said in an amused tone.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” the male Mage began. “You might get to keep your treacherous hides if you come with us.”

“Oh, please. We’re killing these little shits now, whatever the case,” the Vampire Nightclaw spat back.

“Get in the car, Winston,” Veronica said to him quietly. “Drive away and bring help.”

“No way, I’m not leaving you!” Winston said defiantly.

“Oh, how cute...” the Werewolf woman said. She started to grow hair all over her face and body, and swelled out of her clothes. It wasn’t long before she was a massive Brutebeast with a wide drooling jaw filled with vicious teeth.

The Mage tried hurling a spell towards the lovers, but Veronica deflected it. The Werewolf Brutebeast stormed towards them, claws outstretched and ready to eviscerate them, but Winston just glared at her. She kept running towards them as her transformation reversed, and soon she had to stop just short of the couple as she realised she was nothing more than an angry naked lady. As Veronica deflected more spells, Winston got out his lighter and struck it, manipulating the fire to engulf the baffled and now powerless Werewolf. She screamed and ran around wildly for what seemed like a lifetime before collapsing into a charred smouldering heap.

The Vampire Nightclaw had used the bedlam to disappear into the shadows. Veronica was engaged in flinging spells and deflecting them with the Mage, but Winston was ready for the Vampire’s stealth strike. The shadows materialised magically into the Nightclaw within striking distance of the couple. The Nightclaw had a sharp combat knife raised ready to lash out at Veronica, so Winston sent a blast of fire towards the assailant. She quickly back flipped out of harm’s way, but Veronica telekinetically launched a big metal dumpster in her direction. Winston used his strange newfound ability to make sure the Nightclaw’s powers would not be available as the heavy metal dumpster crushed her against the back wall of the restaurant. With an unpleasant squelch and a snap, the Vampire was killed and disintegrated into ash.

Winston looked at the Mage and could almost sense the spells that he was calling into his mind. Winston just chose for them not to work, and they didn’t. The Mage strained and struggled madly before a look of pure terror appeared on his face. He realised that he too was now powerless and raised his hands in surrender, trying to back off.

Veronica cruelly snapped his leg bones with her psychic powers, and he slumped to the ground screaming and begging for mercy. “You ruined my engagement night, you old prick!” she said, raising her hands and readying another spell to finish him off.

Winston held her back and spoke politely. “I’ve got this – and don’t worry, babe, we’ll make up for this little inconvenience when we get home.” He pulled out his pistol and pointed it at the Mage’s forehead, and as the Mage pleaded softly for his life, Winston pulled the trigger.

- - -

The Governor wiped the sweat from his brow. He was back in his old office at the top of the World GOVT building in the Capital City, but it didn’t feel the same as it did before. With the help of the Shadow Circle he and the rest of the old staff, the ones that hadn’t been shot by the Inquisition, were back at work at their old posts. The Governor himself wasn’t really doing much, as they made all the decisions now. He just sat around waiting for new instructions from Lucius and Winston. He’d tried calling for one, both, or all three of his drop dead gorgeous ‘personal assistants’ for a bit of fun, but since his bout of hiding in the Hotel Noir he was having trouble getting it up, even for women of their calibre. He’d given up with sex now. It was embarrassing enough being overweight and on the job, let alone going floppy all the time too, so he just sat at his desk all alone in the silence, drinking far too much.

Sometimes he watched the city below, but even that had become a depressing scene as of late. ‘His’ MPK’s patrolled the streets regularly, equipped the walls with anti-air guns, and did the odd bit of fighting and killing with pro-Inquisition civilians. The whole place seemed darker than it was; or that might have been from all that he’d seen lately. He’d known about the Supernaturals for years, but he’d never known about
them
. It was late in the evening now anyway, and he couldn’t see much except the lights below and the stars above. He was getting tired but he didn’t want to leave. Being at the top of the building made him feel slightly more secure, but in his heart he knew he wasn’t safe anywhere now.

It was when the Shadow Circle were escorting him into the World GOVT building that he seen his first glimpse of the puppet people. The Shadow Circle Supernaturals and some MPK’s had the Inquisition captives at gunpoint, and were marching them into a ‘hole’ in reality. Standing beside the hole was Winston, and a big puppet man in a dirty black and white suit that reminded him far too much of his own self. The puppet man had tipped his dusty top hat to him and smiled with a golden toothed grin. The Governor shivered in fear as the Inquisition troops were dragged into the hole by more scary looking puppet-things. He never thought that he’d actually feel sympathy for the Inquisition until that moment.

He poured himself another glass of whiskey, and his hand was shaking so much that he had to focus hard to keep the liquor flowing into his glass and not onto the desk. He took a big gulp, and almost spat it back out as a suited member of the Shadow Circle let himself into his office. He had a big smile on his face and was carrying a big black rucksack in one of his hands.

“Hello, Mr Governor,” the man said.

“Yes, hello. What... what do you want?” the Governor stuttered.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. I’m just here to deliver a few treats on behalf of the gang. You know, as a thank you for being a good sport in these difficult times.”

“Oh... okay...” the Governor stammered back, still wary of the man. Had his usefulness already worn out?

The man put the rucksack by the desk and knelt beside it. The Governor watched in silence as the man placed bottle after bottle of ridiculously expensive liquor in front of him, followed by cases filled with all varieties of cigarettes, cigars, and drugs. Finally, the man got up and placed a big unmarked glass bottle on the desk directly in front of him.

“Something for the nerves, Mr Governor. We’ve noticed that you’re having a hard time, and this should do just the trick.”

The Governor looked at the pure black water within. “I don’t suppose... it’s a bit embarrassing, but... would it help with getting it up? Like, down there,” he said, pointing to his crotch. “The stress has... taken its toll.”

The man smiled kindly. “Oh, definitely. It will take care of all your problems. You see, it’s a
magical
formula. Think of it as a cure for all ills.”

The Governor picked up the bottle, appreciated it for a moment, and then begun unscrewing the top. “Oh, really?”

“Just to warn you, it tastes really bad,” the man cautioned, “but make sure you drink it all up. It’s the only way it will work.”

The Governor looked down at the black liquid within the bottle. It smelt incredibly rank, so he pinched his nose shut with his fingers began downing the whole thing while the man from the Shadow Circle just smiled and watched. The gang member was right; it did taste awful. If anything, it tasted like death.

- - -

After the attack, Winston and Veronica had indeed recovered their engagement night. The sex had been the perfect mixture of both love and passion and filthy kinkiness. As ever, she was half angel and half devil, or at least a good thirty percent angel and seventy percent horny devil, but it was just one of the many things he loved about Veronica. He was tremendously exhausted but he was unable to fall asleep.

His mind raced with thoughts of his strange new powers so he decided to have a flick through his book, and it showed him about negation magic and its applications. It also showed him about reality manipulation, which was how he’d stopped the bullet and made it disappear, but the knowledge was just too complex for his mind to grasp at the present. He tried going back to bed, tossing and turning for a bit, before finally giving up
. He
decided instead to visit the Gloom and see how they were faring with the impending merger. The Trinity’s bodged assassination had given him an idea.

Winston got dressed in some casual clothing, created a portal, and left reality, closing it behind him. He made his way down the unpleasant version of the Hotel Noir, giving Lanky a bar of chocolate when he reached the reception desk, and asked for Olex to take him to see the Mayor and Omniosis. The Alt happily phoned ahead on the reception’s old fashioned broken phone, and it wasn’t long before Winston was on his way.

As he ventured out into Gloom City on the back of his favoured Spidercar, he was shocked by the amount of Alt activity. They were everywhere, talking in groups or busy running errands, most of them armed with makeshift melee weapons ready for the merger. He recognised some clockwork modified Alternatives from Pollutia, all dressed in faded hi-vis vests, overalls, or dirty boiler suits, and most had gasmasks on too. They wielded a varying selection of glowing green brassy weaponry, both close combat and ranged. Tank versions of Spidercars stormed heavily down the roads with big cannons on their backs in place of a passenger section. Winston also noticed some Alts in blue military greatcoats and feathered hats marching along smartly, with flintlock rifles resting on their shoulders. He assumed that they were the Commodore’s men.

Olex clanked and steamed along until the Gloom equivalent of the World GOVT building came into view, and Winston was surprised to see that it had once again been altered. It was now a magnificent white and light grey tower tipped with four stone prongs that reached for the sky like a hand without a thumb, and near the top, a big mask was carved out from the stonework in the image of Omniosis’ primary face. As he got closer to the tower he could see that the mask was repeated on each of the building’s four sides. The Archmage’s old dragons circled in the sky above, and some perched peacefully on the larger windowsills. The gardens in the courtyard were vibrant and colourful. The statues were now fully intact and all of Omniosis, and the fountains sparkled with clear enchanted water.

The Mayor, DVAF, a group of needle maidens, and Omniosis were gathered in front of some freshly made Gloom troopers.

“Ah, Winston,” Omniosis began as Winston jumped off Olex to join them. “Here to see the finally preparations, are you? We are all already for the merger tomorrow, if you still are?”

“Yeah,” Winston replied dozily. “All good at my end. I just couldn’t sleep, and then I came up with an idea that might help things run smoother tomorrow.”

“You’re always coming up with good ideas. That you are!” the Mayor said happily. “But first, what do you think of the new recruits?”

Winston looked at the terrifyingly altered Inquisition troopers. Some were male and some were female, their power armour was in good shape as they had surrendered after the World GOVT building had been taken, and their guns pulsed with green Gloom magic energy. They all stared blankly with their new cold black eyes.

“I made the guns work!” DVAF said excitedly. “They should do some really horrible damage!”

“Nice work, DVAF,” Winston said, and DVAF giggled happily after receiving the compliment.

“Mortissa and her needle maidens should get a thank you, too!” the Mayor boomed. “Her work was delightfully terrifying as ever, indeed it was!”

Winston turned to the group of maidens. They parted, and at the heart of their group stood Mortissa Aurorana, but he was looking at Marissa Aluniana’s face and hair. The part-Alternative part-Demon had transferred the poor dead songstress’ face and scalp perfectly onto herself with only a small amount of stitch work visible. She had even taken a white corset with black filigree, a short pleated white skirt, and a long elegant white fur coat from Marissa’s wardrobe. Her collection of sharp needles, pins, scissors, and knives had been attached or slotted wherever she could put them.