Rage (Her Monsters Book One) - K.A Knight Page 0,58
is another hallway on this floor at the other end of the landing. Sneaking out, I close the door softly behind me and move towards the other hallway. They would have grouped them together, all the better to watch them, and they must be using magic to control them or bind them.
When I reach the landing I spot the black, twisted wooden banister leading along to curved stairs, which go down to the second floor. The house is deadly quiet, so when I hear a sigh and a door opening behind me, I spin and grab the startled witch before she can loose any magic or warnings.
Covering her mouth, I twist her neck and snap it, and let her drop to the floor quietly. There was no point asking her any questions, her mouth and words would be her weapon. One witch dead, many more to go.
Grinning, I reach behind me and grab both swords, this is going to be fun. It has been too long since I let the beast out to kill, but I let it out now.
The change takes over me, sliding across my body like silk and reforming me into the minotaur.
The hunters scream as I massacre my way through their masses. They manage to get a few good cuts and shots in, but I ignore the pain and the blood, letting my need for their blood, for their death and souls, roar through me until all I can think about is my next swing of the axe.
Ripping the head off one man, I throw it like a ball at the woman behind him with such force, that she flies backwards through the front door with a scream. Something slices down my back, and I turn with a growl, wrenching the knife away from the human who tried to stab me and chopping off his head.
More pour in and my dragon is fighting me for control, wanting free after all these years of sleeping. He can taste the souls on them and the ones lingering from the dead littered at my feet.
I roll my eyes at his huffing and jump over the crowd and back away, dropping my weapons to the floor with a clang as I let him take over.
One second I’m a man, the next I’m a dragon, the change is that swift and sure. Landing on the floor with a roar, I lower my head and grin at them. Their mouths drop open and either they haven’t seen a dragon before, or they have never heard the tales and lore of me in my dragon form.
I’m not like the others, no scales of multiple colours cover me. My skin is like leather, a dark shade of black. Not the black of this world or even the night sky, but a complete and utter lack of colour. One that if you stare too much, they say you see death and the beyond itself. My wings have long, sharp talons at the end and look more bat-like than dragon. Huge, black spikes run down my spine leading to my tail, which has a ball at the end with smaller spikes on it.
Those spikes continue onto my head, splitting down each side like horns framing my skull in what dragon lore used to call the royal crown. My snout ends in a point and my teeth are double the size of a normal dragon with venom held inside.
My eyes are a luminous purple, and when I breathe fire it is purple as well, so bright that it is said to be seen through my skin, but it is the black fire they should fear the most. The one that steals and captures the souls of innocents and evils alike, swallowing it whole.
They linger inside me after, and I can use their powers or strengths, sometimes even see their memories. Eventually they fade, and they will never go to whatever waits behind this world. They are destroyed, every scrap of them wiped out from the world like they never existed.
No, it is not my fire they should fear, but what comes after the fire. The reaping.
Breathing in, I let the fire build in my belly. Their fear doubles and in this form I can see each individual sweat droplet as it rolls down their bodies, see the hammering of their pulse, and feel their heartbeats and shaking. It’s addictive.
Opening my mouth wide, I blow.
Purple fire rains hell down on them, scorching them and burning them alive as