Dangerous Diabolical: Book 1 (Iridescent) ✔️

11.3

*To edit

My consciousness tried to claw far too quickly back into the land of the living, mostly fighting eyes that wanted to remain tightly closed as sore lungs struggled to recover from the bruising of being chucked into an airless realm. For a moment I was unsure where 'here' was, and that jolted my eyes groggily open to the harsh answers of reality. Upon observing my surroundings, the only course of action was to shut it back out by closing my eyes.

Quickly.

Maybe if I ignored it, it would go away.

Of course, the obvious problem with that logic was I seemed to have been restricted to where I could go. Suspended ankles first upside down, arms held prisoner splayed on either side of my body on a stone backing, the blood thumped in my ears as it pooled in my brain.

Furthermore, the burning agitation to simply bite off everyone's head was unparalleled. I had been bested! Me! Celandine Doukas. More than the cut on my cheek, the pain in my head, the aches in my bones; the fact that I'd lost smarted the most. The crushing realisation of what happened made my stomach feel as if it were upside down.

That thought made me pause. Since I was already upside down, surely that meant my stomach felt the right way up? Wiggling each toe experimentally, the prick of pins and needles has slowly begun to creep in.

David was the last face I'd seen. A hiss escaped as the crawling of burning hatred rolled the span of my spine. Of all things, to have fallen into a dirty trap! It hadn't even been a fair fight!

"Ah, Andy you have awoken." The voice drawled. Having heard him speak a hundred times, the resistance to not glare was too great. I conceded to the urge and opened my eyes to survey the frosty surroundings. As he spoke, crawling hollow undertones of the creature possessing him intertwined with his voice, sending a tremor down my spine that didn't stem from the chill.

Lo-and-behold, it was the man of the hour. The cloaked Sorcerer, the necromancer of the dead, David.

"David, I am officially handing in my notice."

We were a huge cavern with sprawling ceilings, the recesses illuminated by soft candlelight. Wooden beams branched tall into the darkened canopy with netting hung strewn between them. Weights of loose brick rested suspended. Stacks of black chiselled rocks supported the lower areas around the edges, and frozen pools of liquid reflected the dim light.

The lack of breeze held the smell of decomposing bodies; strewn everywhere I looked. Some were standing, staring abandoned into the tunnels of darkness. Others were sprawled across the ground as if they were rubbish, and each of them rotted in a different state of decay. As I attempted to concentrate on the magic around the cavern, it became apparent that the flow ran into the corpses, before their mixed sources of power streamed into the man in front of me.

This was not my kind of party, and I would be taking my exit very quickly.

Taking a deep breath I inhaled, pushing magic into my chest ready to light the fire and burn these suckers to the ground. Only to feel it slip out of my grasp. I tried again, only to feel it infuriatingly sink away further. It was as if a greased sludge coated it. I could feel my magic slithering under my skin, clambering to try and find its way out. Still, I was unable to access it. The metal around my wrists grew hot and for the first time in my life, they burnt, my skin reacting to the heat. The breath I was holding gasped free in a rush.

David emitted an empty rattling sound as he began to laugh, the rumble devoid of the essence that made laughter joyful. The bodies around joined in unison but stopped mid-noise when he spoke.