The Wanderer - 195 (Patreon)

Chapter 195 – Blood

[2009 – October]

Hanging up the call with some influential French politician with a snort, he placed down the satellite phone rather forcefully as he cursed under his breath.

“F*cking Frenchmen, arrogant bastard … “

He normally wouldn't bother entertaining someone that spoke to him in such an obviously condescending way but the other party's offer was just too good, comparatively speaking.

He might be a weapons dealer and was probably a bit mad as well but he knew when to restrain his temper if the potential gains were great enough.

It still annoyed him greatly to have to deal with that man, so he was thinking about sending him a rather explosive 'present' after their deal was complete, but for the most part, those were just some musings to pass some time and dispel his boredom.

Though there were other times were those musings had turned into actual 'presents' that he had sent on their way.

He was quite the madman after all.

Pausing in his movements, a tingling sensation in the back of his head, he slowly placed his hand on the gun at his waist while listening to any usual sounds.

He didn't know why but he suddenly felt as if something was wrong, his instincts, which had been acquired after surviving uncountable precarious situations, giving off alarm signals.

He didn't hear anything though and the monitors that were connected to the cameras all over the gigantic shipwreck were also all normal.

Freezing in place, he picked up on why he was feeling this strange sense of danger.

He didn't hear anything.

The guys that he had hired were supposed to carry around weapons or fix up the place, so there should have been a constant metallic clanging noise in the background even if his office was rather well isolated since the door was an absolutely massive piece of steel.

Bringing the walkie-talkie to his mouth, he tried to call for any of his men but the only answer that he got was white noise.

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed a belt with a few hand grenades fixed on it and an automatic rifle from his personal stash before opening the steel hatch of his office with the code. Slowly pulling the hatch open until he could see what was going on outside and could slip through the gap, he still saw nothing and heard nothing, which prompted him to step into the corridor.

Moving as silently as possible without calling out to anybody since he didn't want to necessarily draw the attention of whatever had caused this strange event, which he feared might be related to his trip to Wakanda a few years back.

All the cabins and corridors that he passed by were empty though, and he was getting more and more nervous, his grip on the gun becoming tighter while beads of sweat started to run down his temples and back, soaking his shirt.

The unknown was always the scariest even for someone as crazy as him.

*Szoo* *Szoo* *Szoo*

Though when he neared the end of the corridor, which was supposed to lead to a more open workspace, and faint wet noises reached his ears, goosebumps started to appear on his arms while a chill crawled up his back, the dim lighting not really helping the situation.

Forcing himself to move forward anyway while raising the weapon in his right hand, his left one holding a grenade while supporting the rifle to ensure good aim, he finally stepped out of the corridor and passed by the large crates, enabling him to see what was making these disturbing sounds.

The moment that he did so though, he wished that he hadn't as terror surged in his mind, the scene too gruesome even for his eyes.

A dark red bipedal creature was standing amongst dozens of mutilated corpses, most of them in pieces, its whole form rippling like half-solidified blood. It had a head but only a single eye, and no nose or ears. It also had a mouth, if one could call it from which a long swaying tube was extended, not unlike a mosquito's.

Its form-shifting claws were grasping the lower body of one of his men, its 'head' enveloping the waist area and the 'mouth tube' was attached to the bloody waist part of the ripped-apart carcass, which was the origin of the weird sucking noises.

He didn't shoot or throw the grenade though, he just stood there, sheer terror freezing him in place as if he was facing some kind of apex predator while sweat poured down his form.

His thoughts were paralyzed by fear, his rational mind failing to exert any control over his body.

And it was at this moment that a voice with indescribable sensuality sounded out from atop one of the crates, his eyes shifting towards the origin of the voice under incredibly strenuous effort.

"You should be glad that you will be killed by my Blood Demon. It doesn't enjoy playing with its prey nor does it have the abilities to turn you into something abominable after your death, both of which I admittedly have a bad habit for."

Unable to focus on the rather chilling and disturbing words, he could hardly register what was being said as sitting on the crate was a dark-haired temptress of such beauty that he was half-sure that he was hallucinating.

A black dress that hugged her curves and revealed much of her perfect breasts as well as her delicate shoulders, the long slit in the side enabling him to catch a glimpse of a milky-white thigh, her hips round and inviting.

He had never seen a more perfect woman, the visual impact alone breaking most of his mental defenses.

"It is a pity though.", she continued, the faintest of frowns on her otherwise flawless face, "I was expecting to be entertained by your actions in the future, what kind of ripples your existence would cause."

Sighing, hints of unwillingness and fear briefly flashing in her eyes, she continued: “But nobody disobeys a Lord that can wander this dimension unhindered.”

Incomprehension blooming in his eyes, he didn't understand the meaning behind the gorgeous woman's words but just as he was readying his whole willpower to force himself to try and ask why and what exactly was going on, his vision was spinning rapidly before eternal darkness swallowed him.

…

Watching impassively as Ulysses Klaue's head was severed from his body by the Blood Demon that she had created through a complicated mixture of alchemy, ritual magic, and soul magic, Selene levitated the head towards her before flicking her finger and sending it back to her vault with a reverse summon.

Being a true pinnacle existence when it came to the magical arts, she had naturally developed spells that could help her circumvent modern electronic devices, which was why it had been rather easy for the Blood Demon to carry out this massacre after she had silently killed the first of the workers and used his blood to 'grow' the alchemical creature.

Commanding the magical abomination to her side while she levitated herself into a standing position on top of the crate to avoid getting blood on her shoes, the bipedal being appeared before her like a bloody shadow.

Reaching out with her hand, she easily pushed it into the half-solidified head and grasped the 'seed' of the Blood Demon before activating her innate mutant ability.

And the next moment, the Blood Demon's form started to disperse into black ash as all the condensed life energy was extracted from the blood, a torrent of revitalizing energy rushing into her body at the same time, nearly causing her to moan out loud, the feeling near orgasmic.

In the end, she was left with a dark-red, almost black, finger-long crystal core in her hand, which was the seed out of which the Blood Demon could regrow if given access to enough blood.

It was a rather intricate piece of magic and one of her proudest creations since it involved soul magic, which was easily the most dangerous and obscure type of magic.

Many sorcerers and sorceresses had crippled or even killed themselves when trying to use this type of magic, and even though she was one of the few who had a certain mastery over this branch of magic, her reverence for this discipline wasn't less than when she started to experiment with it. If anything, it was even greater.

Not that she had any illusion to use this most lethal of magics, or any other for that matter, against the 'man' responsible for her coming here in the first place. Elijah may be a young and inexperienced higher existence but Selene knew very well that he could crush her like a bug.

He had possessed the ability to strip her of her magic powers even before his ascension, and the Dark Priestess would rather not think of what he could do to her after becoming a Realm Lord.

Other thoughts and ideas though couldn't help but cross her mind. Though she had no intention to act on any for the time being.

For now, she would continue to observe, a part of her being very curious about the extent of his abilities even if his existence also frightened her at the same time.

[A/N: FYI, I don't have anything against the French, I just picked them at random. In fact, I drove through France for several days a few months back and was very much enjoying it. Beautiful scenery and rather polite people.]