Ruptured: The Cantati Chronicles (9 page)
Read Ruptured: The Cantati Chronicles Online
Authors: Maggie Mae Gallagher
I swiveled my head just in time to witness the second Hatha as it ripped his body in two. “DAD!” I screamed, but no sound left my lips from my severe lack of oxygen.
Rage settled in my soul. In a single thrust, I snapped the Hatha’s neck and its arms released me. I ducked low, and the second Hatha’s claw grazed my arm. The screams outside Dad’s office dulled as I beat the bloody hell out of it. Picking up the desk chair, I smashed it against the Hatha’s skull in a single blow. Blood splattered everywhere.
I was seconds from joining the melee in the command center except I glanced in Dad’s lifeless eyes.
NO.
This was not how it would end. I had to fix this. I scooped up the forgotten orb from the floor, made sure the book was still tucked in my waistband, and held the incantation. Blinking through tears, I gazed at the words scrawled upon the slip of paper.
Before another demon noticed me, I spoke, “Vicis ut est non vicis, tractus ut est non tractus, in a dies ut est non a dies. Sto procul limen inter universitas, pro ut velo ex mysterium. Possum Antiquitas Uni succurro quod servo mihi. Vicis per tractus, deleo preteritus. Ut EGO mos is, sic mote is exsisto.”
The orb warmed my palm. Heat sang up my arm, encompassing my body. I couldn’t move as the warmth spread.
The orb blazed fiery in my hand, so hot I wanted to drop it. Gritting my teeth through the scorching pain, my fingers dematerialized along with it. As the heat spread up my arm, I realized I couldn’t move my head to check if I was missing more body parts.
And the scene before me dissolved. I’m not sure I existed anymore. It was as if I was now a void, a black nothingness. Time suspended itself. Is this what death felt like, this ceasing of all physical senses? Would it be so bad to let go into oblivion? Then my vision faltered. My eyes were open yet could see nothing.
I blinked.
My body materialized, crashing against unforgiving stone. My head thwacked against the ground as my body skidded to a halt.
Umphff, that’d leave a mark.
Blood dribbled from my chin. Each droplet connected with concrete, creating a dark puddle on the floor. I eased my shoulders and cheek off the timeworn stone. My muscles groaned, protesting the slight movement. My limbs throbbed from the jarring impact.
Through narrowed eyes, my surroundings swam into focus. I lay face-first in a gutter running along the wall. My day had turned to shit. I laughed. The sound rang sharp in the empty space.
Fuck, Dad.
Tears blurred my vision and I lay my forehead against the stone. Each breath hurt, shuddered in painful gulps into my lungs. He was dead. They all were. Raw agony gripped my heart, clenched its gnarled fist and squeezed my soul. How could they all be gone? I couldn’t stifle the tears. There were not enough fingers to stop the dam.
Realization dawned as I wiped the wet trail from my cheeks. The world had ended. How the hell was I supposed to fix that?
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About the Author
Bestselling Author Maggie
Mae Gallagher doesn’t remember a time when she wasn’t writing. When she was a kid she acted out her favorite scenes, only better, with her brother and cousin. As a teenager, she wrote reams of poetry, but realized her true love lay with creating characters and stories. A former music and history major, Maggie is a total geek at her core. When she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She lives in St. Louis, Missouri, with her two furry felines.
Copyright © 2014 by Maggie Mae Gallagher
Edited by Megan Records
Copyedits by Joyce Lamb
Cover Art & Formatting by Damonza
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
ISBN-13: 978-0-9914817-2-9