Necrophobia Read Online Free

reassurance but she denied him any; her face remained determined.
    “That depends on what you tell me, Sir.”
    “Shut up—” The other tried to break free before another hand gesture silenced him. His lips bound shut against his will.
    “What is your name?” Razakel asked the more sensible intruder.
    “Ivan, Sir.”
    His comrade glared daggers at him but remained silent.
    “Who sent you here Ivan, and why?”
    “I don’t know why exactly but…” He hesitated, despite his limited mobility he seemed to shrink a little from Razakel’s gaze. “An Inquisitor hired us. He promised us things. Power, wealth…”
    “Immortality?” Razakel asked leaning forwards, his tone almost conspiratorial. Claire watched the accomplice with suspicion; he’d stopped struggling and remained still with a look in his eye that she didn’t like. He was planning something, of that she was sure.
    “Yes.” Ivan replied, his voice meek. His face flushed red.
    “This Inquisitor? Tall man was he? Greying hair. Sharp face?” Razakel continued as Ivan nodded frantically. The accomplice eye’s narrowed at the description but otherwise remained immobile his breathing slow and controlled.
    “What is he after? How many of you are there?”
    It all happened so fast. There was a bright flash and yelp of pain — Ivan lay crumpled on the floor. Razakel shielded himself and Claire with a translucent blue barrier of energy as the unidentified man unleashed a blast of magic. He shoved past Claire and sprinted down the corridor where they’d came. He was fast and Claire cursed herself for not being faster — she’d never catch him. Instead she threw aside the sword and grasped her bow in one hand and an arrow from the quiver in another before lining up a shot. The fleeing man looked over his shoulder and threw blasts of energy and flame backwards forcing Razakel on the defensive. He was nearing a corner almost out of range when she fired into the darkness; with no wind it was an easy shot. The arrow struck into his leg and he stumbled forwards cursing at the top of his voice, trying to seek cover behind the corner. She grabbed the fallen sword and ran towards him ignoring the shouts and grunts behind her. In seconds she covered the distance now almost on top of the whimpering figure on the floor dragging his bloodied leg around the corner. Another fireball flew from beyond the corner exploding onto the wall. She’d expected it and ducked under the heat back-blast and caught him, her sword pressed right under his chin.
    “Try that again and you’ll regret it.” He complied though not without cursing her and her relatives. He soon stopped once the blade bit deeper into his flesh. She wasn’t sure if she had it in her to kill him but he didn’t know that and she prayed she wouldn’t find out today.
    Razakel appeared behind her with surprising stealth.
    “Were that wound treated soon enough you’ll live. You might even walk.” He said watching the squirming cloaked man. “All you have to do is answer my questions.”
    “Not interested.” He managed through gritted teeth. “I’m dead either way.”
    Razakel shook his head in disappointment.
    “What about Ivan?” Claire asked, keeping her sword steady and risking a glance back at the fallen figure.
    “Dead.” Upon seeing her shocked expression he continued. “Our friend here had another knife.” He retrieved a second ritual knife from somewhere on his person, buried within his black robes. Beneath them the man struggled and tried to crawl backwards; his eyes filled with hate.
    With a shrug Razakel knelt down beside him with the dagger still gripped in his left hand. “We’ll continue this later I think.”
    Before Claire could say anything he reached out and touched the man’s face with his free hand. The air around them chilled and the man froze, the colour drained from him in seconds and his skin gained a rough hewn texture. He’d transformed into solid stone.
    “He’s