Page 62 of Unstoppable Shadow

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The heat inside him was the hottest he’d ever felt it. He turned to face Luanda. She was on her knees, holding the wound. Blood across her skin and armour. Her moans were deep and slow but quickly became fast and loud as time returned to normal.

“What is this devil?” Luanda shouted.

“Fuck me,” the crooked smiled man said, “how’d he do that?”

Favian’s mouth hung open.

Luanda looked at her wound and moaned through gritted teeth, blood pooling underneath her.

All the sound in the room faded away as the Beast appeared next to the woman in the dirty dress. The woman was mid-scream, with wet lines running down her face. Thick veins ran all across the Beast’s black muscles. Its yellow eyes had no pupils, but Mara felt it looking inside his head. The Beast nodded, then raised its long-nailed hand and placed it on the woman’s shoulder.

The Beast was gone. Luanda fell flat and rolled to face her friend. The woman in the dress stopped screaming and pushed the man’s hand away from her neck, taking his blade as she did it.

The dirty dress floated up as she spun, then leapt on the man, taking him to the grou

nd. Nobody moved to help. They all watched in silence.

The woman stood, her dirty dress now stained with blood. She held the blade in one hand and the man’s head in the other. She tossed the head to Favian’s feet and smiled at him, then looking to Luanda, she mouthed, “I love you.”

“No,” Luanda whispered.

The woman in the dress slashed at her own throat many times, blood spraying onto the floor in front of her, then fell forwards. Luanda’s crying became gargled.

Favian looked down at the head by his feet, then at Mara. Not with the same look of disgust he had always looked at him with, but a look of nothing, like he had no idea what was happening. Only Mara knew, and now he knew for sure that the Beast was here to help him.

He looked around the room at the faces of all the scared men as they stared back at him. They fear me, they fear the Beast. The man with the crooked smile looked like he might cry. Luanda lay silent. One by one, each of Favian’s men slit their own throat. Mara liked the man with the crooked smile. It was a shame he had to die.

Favian still sat on the chair. The Beast stood next to him.

You’re not allowed to die so easy.

The Beast nodded, placing its hand on Favian’s shoulder.

It was the first time Mara didn’t want to lie on the bed. Favian coughed blood, just like Peter had, and the sheets were covered in it. Between the coughing and heaving, Favian had been trying to say something for some time.

Mara watched from his place on the floor. He’d do whatever Favian said. The Shadow Master said he had to, but Favian would have to ask him first. Favian looked in Mara’s eyes every so often, but never for long.

“Get,” Favian whispered. “Doctor.”

Mara sighed, got to his feet, and went out into the corridor. He knocked on a few doors before someone answered – a whore with big boobs in a top that barely held them in.

“Favian wants a doctor,” Mara said, then walked away without waiting for a response. He returned to his spot on the floor and waited. Favian had nothing else to say.

The doctor arrived and looked like he’d been dragged out of bed – still half asleep with his hair all over the place. He seemed to wake up quickly when he looked at Favian. “My god. Why wasn’t I called sooner?”

He needs to suffer. Mara shrugged.

The doctor tried to pull up Favian’s shirt, but Favian fought to keep himself covered. “Favian, I must inspect you for diagnosis. It is of the utmost importance.”

Favian puked blood onto the doctor’s arms, then lay back and moaned.

After a pause, the doctor slowly lifted Favian’s shirt, then gasped as he stepped back. “I must, I must…” he took two steps toward the door, “gather my equipment.” The doctor stumbled out of the room. “He has the Wane, stay clear,” he shouted in the corridor.

Mara stood. Favian’s skin was covered in the same red lumps Peter had. The Beast knew what I wanted. Knew I wanted him to be sick.

“Get… me… away.” Favian slurred between deep gargled breaths. “The… horse… back… door.”

Mara stood for a while and waited for Favian to say what he always did about there being no wine to be drunk. He didn’t say it.


Tags: Alex Mead Fantasy