King Ruin: A Thriller (Ruins Sonata Book 2) Read Online Free Page B
Author: Michael John Grist
RG-beveled flooring. I am torn through the purple clot-ball-stopped rooms of giant books, propelled deeper and deeper through nested levels of the fractal maze, all the way up to the great gout in the blast-door wall where we tore open the aetheric bridge.
The edges are jagged like torn meat, a ruptured organ in my own mind still raw and leaking ichor. This is what I did to myself. I peer through the gap and within see Doe, Ray, and Me. They are standing with bayonets embedded in their chests, screaming and screaming. They can't seem to stop, they just keep screaming, while Far watches them, as though he's judging them in some kind of contest.
The line lets me go, and I stagger through the torn blast-door to take my place beside Far, where I listen to them scream. It is an endless harmonic threnody, every note cried out at once, a horrific kind of dirge I am hopelessly part of. I realize that I am screaming too, as there's a bayonet in my chest, and one in Far's, and we're all singing for the loss of some kind of innocence, in the hope it'll push the blades out and undo what we did, but all our voices do is drive the blades in deeper. I can feel the bayonet fusing into my body like an infection, hastened y or perfect harmonics, spreading via my nerves and veins, taking me over and moving me like a I am the Bathyscaphe with a new pilot inside.
I hear a voice in the air, and recognize it is spoken in my own voice, it is moving up my own throat and out of my own mouth.
"Hello, Ritry Goligh."
I scream, into the noisy hammering of a black room and an EMR machine.
thump thump
It sounds like an insectile pulse. I'm sweating, terrified, and I can barely see anything but the dim glow cast by the EMR control station's monitor. I try to brush a hand over my eyes and rub away the sweat, but I'm pinioned hand and foot and I can't move. Cold cuffs bite into my wrists as I struggle in position. There's a pain that I can't understand in my right palm, but I can't move to find out what it is, can't see it n the darkness.
"Hello," I call into the black, my voice a croaky rasp. "Don Zachary? Where's Don Zachary?"
The figure at the EMR shifts position. I can barely see it from within the EMR tunnel, can make out its outline only, a man, illuminated by the spilled light from the control deck. There's something familiar about the lines of it, about the way it moves, but…
"Why did you call me, Rit?" it asks. The voice is familiar too, deep, but different. I'm confused and can hardly remember from where. If I did know it, I don't think it was ever so despondent.
"I was-" I begin, then shake my head. The EMR is still going, and I can barely think outside it. I try to reach out through the bonds, but I can't penetrate the whirring electromagnetic shell. I try again, harder now, but am rebuffed like I'm trapped inside a Molten Core. Panic floods me, as I realize I can't influence anything. I am completely trapped, and contained. I throw myself against the magnetic barrier again and again, each time only dazing myself against it harder.
What am I? Where am I? Fear steals in through the panic. I thought I escaped them on the train, whoever they were. Marines in black combat gear. I killed them all or their heads were imploded, but did I actually escape? Did they take me? Am I their prisoner even now?
"Where's the Don?" I repeat, barely managing to hide the fear in my voice. I remember this, a phone call, a Lag. "Where is Don Zachary?"
The figure shuffles closer. Now the weak light illuminates it only from behind, showing solid shoulders, thick arms, a square-shaped head.
"Where do you think he is, Rit?" this black shape says. "He knows about you. He knows about your friend. He's been waiting for you, and now he's watching while they try to keep him alive."
I am puzzled through the fear. The voice seems more familiar, but I have no idea who 'my friend' might be, until the obvious thought hits me.
Mr. Ruins.
"Apparently the two of you
The edges are jagged like torn meat, a ruptured organ in my own mind still raw and leaking ichor. This is what I did to myself. I peer through the gap and within see Doe, Ray, and Me. They are standing with bayonets embedded in their chests, screaming and screaming. They can't seem to stop, they just keep screaming, while Far watches them, as though he's judging them in some kind of contest.
The line lets me go, and I stagger through the torn blast-door to take my place beside Far, where I listen to them scream. It is an endless harmonic threnody, every note cried out at once, a horrific kind of dirge I am hopelessly part of. I realize that I am screaming too, as there's a bayonet in my chest, and one in Far's, and we're all singing for the loss of some kind of innocence, in the hope it'll push the blades out and undo what we did, but all our voices do is drive the blades in deeper. I can feel the bayonet fusing into my body like an infection, hastened y or perfect harmonics, spreading via my nerves and veins, taking me over and moving me like a I am the Bathyscaphe with a new pilot inside.
I hear a voice in the air, and recognize it is spoken in my own voice, it is moving up my own throat and out of my own mouth.
"Hello, Ritry Goligh."
I scream, into the noisy hammering of a black room and an EMR machine.
thump thump
It sounds like an insectile pulse. I'm sweating, terrified, and I can barely see anything but the dim glow cast by the EMR control station's monitor. I try to brush a hand over my eyes and rub away the sweat, but I'm pinioned hand and foot and I can't move. Cold cuffs bite into my wrists as I struggle in position. There's a pain that I can't understand in my right palm, but I can't move to find out what it is, can't see it n the darkness.
"Hello," I call into the black, my voice a croaky rasp. "Don Zachary? Where's Don Zachary?"
The figure at the EMR shifts position. I can barely see it from within the EMR tunnel, can make out its outline only, a man, illuminated by the spilled light from the control deck. There's something familiar about the lines of it, about the way it moves, but…
"Why did you call me, Rit?" it asks. The voice is familiar too, deep, but different. I'm confused and can hardly remember from where. If I did know it, I don't think it was ever so despondent.
"I was-" I begin, then shake my head. The EMR is still going, and I can barely think outside it. I try to reach out through the bonds, but I can't penetrate the whirring electromagnetic shell. I try again, harder now, but am rebuffed like I'm trapped inside a Molten Core. Panic floods me, as I realize I can't influence anything. I am completely trapped, and contained. I throw myself against the magnetic barrier again and again, each time only dazing myself against it harder.
What am I? Where am I? Fear steals in through the panic. I thought I escaped them on the train, whoever they were. Marines in black combat gear. I killed them all or their heads were imploded, but did I actually escape? Did they take me? Am I their prisoner even now?
"Where's the Don?" I repeat, barely managing to hide the fear in my voice. I remember this, a phone call, a Lag. "Where is Don Zachary?"
The figure shuffles closer. Now the weak light illuminates it only from behind, showing solid shoulders, thick arms, a square-shaped head.
"Where do you think he is, Rit?" this black shape says. "He knows about you. He knows about your friend. He's been waiting for you, and now he's watching while they try to keep him alive."
I am puzzled through the fear. The voice seems more familiar, but I have no idea who 'my friend' might be, until the obvious thought hits me.
Mr. Ruins.
"Apparently the two of you
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