Townson skillfully integrates psychological depth into the dark fantasy framework, moving beyond mere spectacle to explore the internal fragility of the supernatural. This approach transforms traditional combat into a sophisticated dialogue on identity and moral resolve.
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EVERDUSK: THE LIGHTSLAYER- FREE AUDIOBOOK CHAPTERAdded:
Hey guys, it's Vampire Couple here. It is Jack Towns, Serena Townsen, and today we are doing something very, very, very special.
>> So special. I can't wait. I'm excited.
Today I am giving away a free full chapter of my new audio book based off of my IPY awardwinning dark fantasy mega novel Everdest Light Slayer.
This audio book is going to be coming out June 2nd. It's up for pre-order everywhere now. I am uh voice acting all the male characters. The award-winning Christian A is narrating and doing all of the female characters. It is mixed by Allesian Nightfall Studios and it is produced and is uh yeah distributed by Blackstone Publishing which is just wild. It is so so cool.
>> So beyond exciting honestly.
>> Yeah. So, this thing is going to be coming out really soon here. And we figured, hey, why not like give you a free chapter?
>> Yes.
>> Like a whole chapter.
>> A whole hecking chapter.
>> Like a literally, this is going to be an hour. So, >> so sit down with us and react and enjoy chapter three of Everdos Light Slayer out of a context.
Here we go.
>> Here we go.
>> Chapter three.
Unlucky 13.
>> God, I love Chris's voice.
>> I do, too.
>> Urgy throbs within Jack's chest as he races across the blighted land on the >> nailed the boulders gate.
>> The ground beneath them. Nothing but beautiful.
>> A million whatifs plague the vampire king. What if Rodic is truly planning something nefarious? What if David's fears hold weight? If Rodic brings war to the lands of darkness, would the vampire kingdoms be ready? From between his legs, the shadowy steed croaks.
>> I can feel you, young lord. Tell me what ails you so.
Its voice crackles through the air as massive moves barely singe the blades of grass.
>> "Zelf," >> Jack grumbles, the red markings over his eyes scrunching as his nose wrinkles in frustration.
Terrible bejeweled claws clutch clumps of mane to keep him balanced on the horse's back, though Jack's mind races faster than the beast does.
>> "What if David is right and the city of light comes for us?
Townsen's mind continues to cartwheel.
>> I've never fought a light wielder before, though I do remember the first time I stepped into sunlight as what I become. That was a [ __ ] >> Fear vibrates behind Jack Stannon. Even Zealos clocks how unusual this is for the king whose demeanor is usually a lot closer to a court jester. towns in >> the horse box.
>> David believes in you so utterly that he has taken you on as his only pupil.
There is a power that resides under your skin that remains untapped. Even I can smell it. That is precisely why you were summoned to the kingdom today. This realm could not handle another war the size of Travalians.
David's people are not warriors. They are the lost and the forgotten in ways even more than your own degenerates.
>> Jack clenches his jaw so hard he fears it might crack. His rows of fangs peeking from behind full lips.
>> Then I'll have to get my forces ready.
Delve deep into the manor's bowels and unleash the power of the artifacts I've stowed away there.
>> Obsessed with your voice.
>> As much as I would hate to use such an arsenal on humans, so be it.
>> Zealoroth Winnies at the mansion, the air about them whipping as smearing colors wrap them like a cocoon.
>> David mentioned he worked together on uncovering the secrets of those alchemic artifacts and what they can do. He didn't mention how you procured such powerful weapons, >> the Hellsteed inquires.
Jack's crimson gaze falls to the rings coiled about his fingers, each more dangerous and unique than the other. At the moment, he dawns only three. One on his left middle finger, another on his right ring finger, and the last on his thumb.
They are all etched with different twisting faces crafted in silver with demonic snars, holding pulsing red jewels within their mouths. As he studies them, he swears for a moment he can hear them whisper.
>> They were the spoils of war, though I doubt that their original owner knew what they were capable of. David helped me. used his magic and knowledge of ancient alchemy to unlock the secrets held within them. These are only a few of the tools I've collected. There are many others, and each is more deadly than the last, though I hate how they make me feel when I use them.
>> Townsen frowns.
>> And how is that, young lord?
>> The steed asks. The vampire stares forward over the weighty powers as they shift against his knuckles, focusing instead on the road ahead.
>> Dirty, >> he admits at last. The tunnel of colors halts without warning. The world returning to some semblance of solid hooves slamming into the dirt beneath them with a heavy thud and spraying the ferns and flowers with black soil. But they are nowhere near the mana yet.
What's wrong?
>> Jack growls as he clings as tightly as possible, almost flung into the air once again. The steed seems fixed in place, the air about them vibrating strangely with a shrill winnie. The horse rears onto its back legs, the front kicking outwards as if trying to break free of something, restricting its movement.
>> LORD TIN, SOMETHING is wrong. I cannot.
I am unable to free myself. You must DISMOUNT AT ONCE.
>> The vampire king searches through the surrounding trees, desperately peering through the darkness for what the issue might be. Before he realizes what is happening, the ground beneath starts to glow brighter and brighter. A circular pattern igniting beneath the hooves of the demonic horse. A series of symbols alike twisting the ground from dirt, replacing the earthy tones with bleached marble white.
>> TONES IN. GO NOW.
>> Zeals groans.
Another urgent bucking of his front legs sends Jack sprawling onto the ground behind him. The force breath knocked from his lungs as he grapples to write himself. The signate of circles bathe the steed in their colors, shooting beams of light upward through the thick canopy. Zethaloth's ebony mane burns as dense smoke penners into the air.
>> Dartanion.
>> The dark lord roars as his body flickers from the ground over to the horse's side. His claws attempting to penetrate the strange force field, keeping the hell in place. It's no use, however, as his fingers ignite in mystical cursed flame.
>> He cries, pulling back to shake out the fire as it trickles it way up his fingers to his ring, blackening his pale flesh to resemble his mentors.
>> "What is this?"
>> Townsen shouts out, terrible pain causing his stomach to roll.
>> "It worked. By the light, it worked." A voice whispers from somewhere nearby.
Townsen's brow furrows as his crimson orbs dance about the area again.
Discovering they'd been forcibly stopped in the middle of a clearing between forest and village. The two trapped betw twixed a path headed for tall trees with a quaint town at their backs.
Jack's mind races for a solution.
The signate of circles, archaic patterns meant to ensnare, pulse with solar energies.
>> "This is the workings of Fraudic, no doubt," >> he thinks. More voices mumble from their hiding spots as Jack turns to Zeloth once more. In an attempt to calm his friend, he hovers his hand in front of the magic field, the brilliant light illuminating his palms.
To his surprise, the scorch marks begin to heal upon his fingers.
>> "I'll get you out of this," >> he declares, anger swelling in his chest.
>> "This is a trap not meant for you. It's meant for me."
>> Jack sneers as he spins in the direction of the hushed voices.
>> "Come out, little humans. Explain yourselves."
He growls into the night, allowing the cowards a chance at diplomacy.
From the trees they fall, descending to the ground by ropes. There's at least a dozen of them, each wrapped from head to toe in ivory, gold, and faded gray, colors signifying from where they hail.
They appear not only to be scouts from the shining city, but rogues.
Their armor is different from what Jack had expected. Their faces shrouded in hoods, their mouths bound in cloth. He had always pictured those of the light, wearing brilliant armor like the Paladins in the games he used to play with his friends back home. It was easy to miss his days as a storyteller crouched behind a ball, weaving tales of fantasy and fiction. In fact, these scouts didn't even appear like the ones in David's memories. Instead, they are bundled in a mix of tight leathers and a cloth that flows from their limbs like water. Long strips of vanilla dancing down their bodies before wrapping about their waist. The fabric around their legs is wound even tighter as to avoid any sort of snag. In silence, they approach the vampire lord and his ins snared steed, their leatherbound hands hanging wide at their sides.
>> "Well," >> Jack growls, his arms mirroring theirs as they hover like a cowboys in an old western movie, his fingers twitching as the red gems within the rings sparkle and dance.
>> "Explain yourselves. You're directly violating the treaty between the kingdoms."
He bears his dagger fangs.
>> "There's still time to make amends and walk away," >> he warns, straightening his spine to tower higher over them. "From behind the 12 rogues walks a 13th, previously hidden from sight, a tall man outfitted in dismal grays and gold. His uniform is similar to the others. Yet his stands out with a single red sash pulled tightly around his waist. His face mask and hood pulled back to show his scarred complexion.
Short toughs of white hair bounce with each step as he emerges from between the others, stalking into the open.
He seems far older than his comrades, his fraying boots appearing far more traveled. As he stops some mere paces from the vampire lord, he folds his arms in defiance.
>> We expected to catch some of your kind hunting, but never did we expect to hook the selfproclaimed king of the degenerates, Jack Townsen. What a wondrous surprise.
>> The assassin grins.
>> How fortuitous.
>> As he speaks, Jack notices the symbol upon >> a giant voices are immaculate.
>> Were you here to collect some ambrosia for the evening?
>> Veron to the village just off in the distance.
Jack's mouth twitches in irritation, his arms remaining ready at his sides just in case, his fingers shifting like an oldtimey sheriff, readying for his revolver.
>> My stallion and I were just heading back home from our errand. You'd be wise to free my companion from your trap and let us pass.
>> Jack warns, his unusual six fangs flashing as his lips curl.
He holds his fury at bay like the hammer upon a pistol, pulled back and ready to be fired at any point. The assassin ponders for a moment, a hand raising to his chin as he edges a few steps closer to the lord, the hellsteed still smoldering within the circle of light.
>> That thing, >> frowns at Zeloth, >> it hardly resembles a proper horse. More like a filthy demon from the pits of Sopres.
>> The leader draws even closer. That red sash about his waist catching the moonlight and brightening.
>> And you use it as a steed. How fitting of a damnable creature such as yourself, Lord Townsen.
The man stops and stares into the vampire's crimson gaze, his gleaming orbs unblinking.
>> "Don't you have any selfrespect?"
>> Jack growls with a restrained anger, the veins on his neck bulging.
>> "You know my name, sir, but you haven't the notability nor the reputation for me to be familiar with yours."
He clenches his fist, tendons pushing through his pearlescent skin. His scarlet glare darts around at the rogues in suspicion.
>> Wait a minute. What is this? Who are you?
>> The older man laughs, his stubbled face twisting with a malevolent sort of glee.
With a wave of his hand, he introduces his unit.
We are the holy hand of the light, King Baloris of Rotic's own task force, and I am his red hand," >> he gestures to the crimson sash at his waist.
>> "My name is Verm, and I have served the crown loyally for decades."
>> The ashenhaired human raises a brow.
There introductions are made. Does this appease you, monster?
>> He snears.
>> The vampire king scoffs with the shake of his eban mane. Those long ringlets tossling against his marble cheeks.
>> You all sound like a bunch of rejects from a Saturday morning cartoon show.
>> Oh my god, >> this is cute. But the way you're standing in form is slowly starting to piss me off.
>> The hand pauses and looks about the other faces in his squadron, confused by the words the vampire spews.
>> So, here is what's going to happen now.
>> Jack raises a hand toward him.
>> You have choices. [ __ ] We all have choices, right? You can either A release my horse, go home, and let me continue on to mine or B.
>> A long trail of fire begins to snake its way around his wrist before engulfing his hand in yellow and orange.
>> I think you know what be is.
>> Shakes his head.
>> You misunderstand.
It is not we who have a choice to make.
It is yourself.
>> All 12 of the men behind him reached to procure what look to be daggers at their hips, the blades humming with a soft white glow. Veran slowly does the same, revealing his weapon to the undead.
>> Come quietly or die. Our king requests an audience with you, >> Jack sigh.
>> You know, >> he mutters, beginning to pace back and forth in front of me.
>> I don't think this little trap was for any vampire.
>> The red hand's eye twitches.
>> Is that so?
>> A cocky smile spreads over Townsen's face.
You just so happened to be on my path.
And not too far away from my own kingdom, a highly trained and seemingly well-prepared group sat in wait in the trees, brandishing weapons of what appeared to be.
>> He squints at the glowing blades.
>> Solar magic. Am I right?
As Jack speaks, the red hand begins to pace alongside him like two tigers ready to rip each other to shreds.
Let me spin this and see if it lands right. You saw me at the blood scorn from your positions, followed my trail in the opposite direction, and found a perfect vantage point to place your trap in hopes it would snare Davados's infernal steed and turn myself. You snare me, bring me back to Verdic, and torture me until I give you every scrap of information about David's kingdom.
And in doing so, leave my own manner vulnerable for attack as well.
>> Stops in his tracks, his face falling.
The vampire lord grins.
>> How am I doing so far?
>> Verran's golden gaze shifts to glance at the unit waiting behind him. With a sharp nod, the man leaps forward, his burning hot blade stabbing down in hopes to catch Townsen off guard. With a signaling of his attack, the rest of the unit moves in a flash, their bound feet splashing mud across their uniformed legs upon approach. Like a storm of sunlight, they surround the degenerate lord, their daggers poised high to stab into his chest. To most they would have been silent like the night air itself.
However, to a vampire, the night is as loud as a symphony. Each beat of an insect wing, an orchestral swell. Every lumbering nocturnal creature a stampede of percussion hits.
Verran's dagger makes its descent first.
A look of subtle triumph spreading across the combatant's vis.
That is until Jack shimmers before them at a supernatural speed. His foes quite literally phasing through his body and colliding with one another as the undead simply walks through them. The members yowl out in pain as their daggers slice through their own flesh. Shock radiating through the platoon. Verran scowls, feeling his blade sink deep into the shoulder of one of his comrades. The wound cauterizing as steam rises from lacerated flesh.
>> With graceful poise and unyielding calm, the vampire manifests down the path. One of the rings on his finger glimmering a violent red as he glances back at his enemies unfazed.
>> "Oh, you thought this would be easy.
That's why you chose me."
Townsen wipes large gauntlet clad wrists over the front of his jacket, brushing away dust particles.
He sigh.
>> No prior knowledge of me, my trials, my tribulations, my victories.
>> He turns with a look of upset, fainted disappointment filling his features.
>> How [ __ ] stupid of you, >> he shrugs.
Well then, >> Jack shifts over his feet, an arm stabbing forward as he holds his palm toward the sky, gesturing for the clattered group of killers to come for him.
>> Care to try that again?
>> yells out in frustration, yanking the housed blade from his wounded friend, spinning to once again aim it at his enemy, his compatriate shrieking IN PAIN. A >> WE will take you monster.
>> Veran screams.
>> We have never failed at our mission to serve Belloris. We are soldiers of the glorious light, and you are nothing but a shrinking shadow.
>> The group rallies, pulling themselves to their feet, and as they do, they crouch over their knees to charge again. Jack hunches down as well, clearly mocking them.
>> "If you're going to take me, you've got to at least buy me dinner first," >> he tortles as they draw close again, blades of singing light crashing toward him. With each rapid strike, the vampire dances between them, laughing maniacally as he avoids each blow with supernatural swiftness. Lightning quick strikes are countered with inhuman speed.
Townsen taking his time to slap some of the assassins on the cheek, shoulder, and even on their rears. With each minor blow, the soldiers are sent spiraling in various directions about the clearing.
>> Oh, what fun. I expected your performance to be poor, but this is rather something.
Haha.
>> He cackles louder, spinning out of the way from another blessed blade, his arms sweeping beneath the assault to grip the closest man by his herd. And with a simple flick of the wrist, sends him whizzing across the field.
Out of breath, stands in weight like a predator in the brush, coming to a chilling conclusion.
This is no ordinary vampire.
Jack Townsen was said to be an outwer, something expected to be a weakness. The Crimson King is something altogether different.
Veran's golden eyes case his every movement, every shift of form, every deliberate repression of his strength.
One thing was clear. They had miscalculated and new tactics would have to be employed.
reaches into the clasped satchel upon his waist, pulling small orblike devices into his clutches.
>> "We may have underestimated our enemy," >> he mutters to those left standing.
>> "No matter. The light will prevail."
>> As he whispers the words, he throws the cluster of spears toward the large group in the center of the clearing. Zeloth screams from his imprisonment.
>> Be aware.
>> Jack looks up from his entertainment to see the coming weaponry flying toward his head. The red hand roars.
>> Sheldorf Ocula.
>> The other assassins take note and pull their hoods up over their heads, masking their faces entirely.
Jack leaps backwards in an attempt to avoid the coming attack, but is caught off guard as the orbs explode around him. The area flooding with blinding solar light. The attack scorches his face and hands as he just barely has enough time to shield himself, his coat smoldering as it barely protects him from the full strength of the assault.
The sharp burn forces a cry from the BASE OF HIS THROAT.
THE clearing stills. A disoriented Jack opens his eyes as the chaotic energy calms to a lull. There, through the blinding haze charges Verm, his gleaming blade held forward in hopes to catch the vampire's throat. For a moment, the king feels a flicker of fear. He snaps to action, parrying the blows, yet struggles as the skilled veteran slashes at his wrists. Shimmering Vite sprays into the air, instantly turning to ash, the solar attack causing his skin to blacken once again. Before Jack can utter another word, continues to press the advantage, pushing the vampire back down the path and past the trees, his boots sliding through the mud as he attempts to keep his footing.
We may not know you, but it is clear you've never crossed blades with a solar weapon, and that will be your downfall, >> he shouts as his soldiers race to catch up to them, barreling down the path like a tidal wave. Verin attempts to slam the blade into Jack's throat again, but is met with an elbow blocking the impact.
The vampire snickers.
However, the assassin releases the weapon from his hand to catch it with the other waiting beneath it. His attack calculated to slam the blade into Lord Townsen's side at last. Jack yells, feeling the light's energies dig into his rib cage, his teeth gritting over the sharp agony. He roars into the face of his opponent.
>> You little [ __ ] You don't want this.
He pants like a rabid wolf.
>> I'm trying hard not to kill all of you.
Let us leave.
>> Jack hurls his fist with immense force into the face of his attacker.
>> The blow summoning so much power that Verin's nose gives a satisfying crunch.
the bridge snapping sickeningly as his body ragdolls past the group and tumbles into the dat. The others stare on slackjawed as their fallen leader struggles to bring himself to his feet.
His wobbling legs causing his body to shake as he tries to compose himself.
Blood streaming from his nostrils and over his upper lip.
>> Get him.
We can't. the target. Escape.
>> He wobbles, his arms dangling as the world sways from his lost of inertia.
>> Just let us go. I don't want to kill you, but you're leaving me no choice.
Please, >> Jack screams as the hand closes the distance, relentless. The other soldiers slicing their blades through the air in wild flurries.
Jack begs again, >> please.
>> His stones falling to desperation.
>> He's trying.
>> And then cries out.
>> We've got it scared, men. Push the monster down, wind. Push him back.
>> As he barks his order, that one single word bounces within the foundaries of the vampire lord's cranium.
Monster.
Even as they fight with fervor, Jack fixates on that word. that terrible implication.
To them, he is nothing more than a thing. Any agency or personality he calls his own, scattered in the wind. To them, he is just a mindless beast, an it.
>> You won't listen.
>> He heaves, finally feeling the wear of the battle.
>> We just want to go home. I don't want to. As he begs his final plea, a single member runs through the group to collide into his chest at full speed, sending young towns stumbling backwards at last.
From beneath him, something erupts. The dirt shifting to show the same sign of circles as the ones that appeared beneath Zelthaloth.
More holy light basks Jack in brilliant hues as the vampire screams out in pain.
Patches of skin begin to blacken and flake away as he raises both hands in hopes to find shade. His massive long coat sweeping upwards to push the light away barely has any effect.
The hobbles toward the group as they begin to rally about the solar prison.
The 12 stabbing daggers of light into Jack's body to keep him fixed in place.
Blood sprays into the air, each droplet disintegrating as the light envelops him.
>> Sir, we've got it. Come quickly and this monster.
>> Hobbles forward. A leatherbound hand reaching down to his side to procure another nasty looking device. It sparks and spits. Electricity dancing along its surface.
>> We have to capture it. Keep it contained. As Jack feels each blade penetrate his organs, his mind begins to feel a familiar call, an itch tingling at the back of his skull.
Then comes a voice he knows all too well.
>> I told you once before.
>> It hisses and groans, a slithering thing that burrows through his brain.
Your views of good and evil are subjective.
Are you really going to let Leman take you, kill you, because you view yourself as a monster? because it would be too much of a toll on your morality if you ripped them to pieces.
>> Pain floods Jack's body, his form convulsing as the squadron stabs OVER AND OVER. He screams, his words fracturing as he tries to respond to the voice inside of him.
I I can't.
I I won't.
>> It returns again. This time sending a jolting pain through his cortex, far more horrible than even the light severing his skin.
>> You believe you're all there is at stake. That it is only your life.
Remember.
As the voice speaks, images flash.
Zetheroth trapped in the solar prison.
David Ross at his desk. Jack's people waiting for him back home. Finally, the young Maharett's voice fills his mind.
>> You won't let the monsters get us, will you?
Jack's eyes open to the blinding of the energies enveloping his body, keeping him in place, watching the clustered assassin stabbing into his torso and arms in desperation to take him out once and for all.
>> You have to do what you must to survive.
Not just for you, but for them.
Punish these mortals for daring to take you from your friends.
Show them the error of their brief human lives.
The red hand stops in his tracks, watching as the vampire's eyes open wide. Red beams bursting from within the blinding rays of white that should have snuffed out his power entirely. A sthing energy rises and rides through his paws, snaking about him and emerging overhead like an angry dragon. Crimson power and dense smoke encircles the vampire. The spiraling miasma slamming into the walls of the prison of light again and again.
Verm's eyes widen as he stares on in horror. The realization taking him.
>> Wait, wait. Fall back. Something is wrong.
>> The men don't hear him as they continue to stab at the body over and over.
Townsen's bloodated by light before sizzling and evaporating.
>> Gods be damned. Listen to me.
>> He limps forward, drawing closer, >> his fear mounting as Townsen's body begins to turn and regain control before his very eyes.
>> Fall back. He hurls the device past the gathered soldiers and straight toward the vampire, hoping it will do something to stop his strange power from growing.
>> Instead, the electrical sphere erupts, shrapnel and embers distracting the men as they pull back with surprise.
>> Jack sends his arms out to his sides, his claws curling inward as his fingers snap unsettlingly.
That voice comes again, a blaring horn against his ears.
>> Show them what a monster really looks like.
Jack.
>> At the voice's final command, Jack opens his mouth and relinquishes a bloody roar. Waves of scarlet power erupting from his form. The energies explode outward as the clustered unit finds themselves lifted from the ground, hurtling through the air and making impact with the branches of nearby trees. The wood shatters into splinters, and that seal beneath the vampire lord begins to fade. The resolute beams die, flickering out like a wet candle. The red hand watches as the monster he dared to hunt breaks free. despite the damage inflicted upon his body. With Townsen's freedom, the voice returns, syllables pounding in unison with rage in his dead heart.
>> Yes, there you are, King Bloody Fangs.
Rip them to pieces.
>> Jack stares at the hands of light through the dark red markings upon his face.
Fall back. I SAID [ __ ] FALL BACK, YOU FOOLS.
>> Verin orders once more. As the men scramble away, Jack's body heaves, dense smoke trailing his form and into the air. His gleaming red eyes stabbing through the darkness. His face twists into a ghoulish grin. His changing vis illuminated by flickers of dying light.
you.
>> A cold growl slithers from between his lips, his body standing to his full stature as his features become silhouetted in darkness once more.
Everything except for those burning crimson eyes.
>> I gave you a choice and you chose death.
Jack's boots slam into that, the debris scattering into the air as he finally gets the chance to retaliate. The 13 members of the Hand of Light watch in shock as Jack races forward, fighting through the pain. He flies at them with rows of serrated teeth unshathed for their throats.
>> "Hold strong. We must remain steadfast.
The light will protect us."
screams, ordering his soldiers to stand their ground.
>> Oh, thanks so buddy.
>> Yet, even as they have a bad day, the >> vampire king approaches the first of the group on his ascent towards their leader. This time, the ring on his right ring finger blazes with a strange cherry glow. A horrible hissing sound filling the air from the powers activation.
>> Yanking back his arm like a cobra poised to strike. Bicep flexing, he thrashes the chest of one of the men wrapped in white. In an instant, his body withers, the eyes housed within his skull rolling back from the sensation as he begins to convulse, his stenum caving inwards as his ribs crack and shatter. Jack's gauntlet assures through the man's torso. The force enough to send his heart exploding through his back to smack the farthest soldier in the face, sending him to the ground.
>> The man screams wet, gurgling sounds of horror as he grips tight to Jack's forearm, his feet kicking as he fights for final breaths.
>> At last, his body falls.
wearing him like a macab bracelet.
>> With his arm still shoved through the man's chest, he raises the body upwards and activates the relic on his finger yet again. This time, the human erupts into a fountain of gore. His skin and flesh shredding into droplets until only bones hang in theirstead. Blood frenched scraps hanging from Jack's arm.
>> We need an animate. Nearby assassins are covered in carnage, staring on at the horror that the vampire king has bestowed upon them.
>> As pools of blood cascade to the ground, the flow halts. Another pulse of the red jewel forces the vite to become absorbed by the ring. The metal sucking it up as though the devilish mouth were a spectral black hole. The vampire lord pushes the ring toward his open mole.
the men about him watching as their dead comradees vital fluid pours from the strange object and into the vampire's mouth. It dribbles from the corners of his lips and down his chin in a messy display.
>> Hot light.
>> Light. No. God help us.
>> The man who had been pelted with a heart screams as he juggles the organ from his place upon the grass. A trickle of urine traveling down his leg to stain the white fabric yellow.
>> Yep.
>> To the left, another of the unit charges, screaming incoherently, his face a bright purple shade. One of Jack's claws cradles the combatant's throat, pushing upward to balance the man's jaw upon his thumb and forefinger, lifting him a foot off the ground.
As he is raised high, the assassin kicks and yells, stabbing Jack's arm with his solar blade in hopes to gain freedom.
Giving a disgusted sneer, Jack growls low. A new glowing force emerging from his stab wounds. The power learned within his studies begins to emerge. The roaring flame snaking up his forearm to meet his hand as it had earlier that night. The assassin begs, shouting in a language he doesn't understand and doesn't much care to for that matter.
The flames engulf the asalent's head.
His hood burning away to reveal his face as it melts.
>> Screaming fills the quiet night. The scent of fresh blood and burning hair taking the place of old dew and pine.
The fire traveling downward to engulf his entire body. The leathers crackling like a pig on the spit.
>> Pieces of burnt flesh and scraps of singed cloth fall to the ground.
>> How we like it here, >> setting the muddled grass a flame and illuminating the underside of the monster's face with gruesome theatrics.
>> Jack smiles, a sinister glee overtaking the fear of losing himself, of becoming a monster. As the rest of the men scramble, hoping to get away from this nightmare they never could have predicted, one remains hidden and waiting. A slender figure stands fixed to the shadow's edge, their arms held forward as they press their palms together toward Jack. The vampire drops both skeletal corpses to the ground, one shriveled like a raisin and the other burnt like charcoal.
He advances yet again. His claws held to his sides and ready to slash at the one who dares to stand between him and his enemy.
His black nails elongate, unshathing from his fingers, becoming deadly blades themselves. He closes the gap between them. Yet, as he does, a strange light forms between the figure's hands, a glowing ball of solar energies. It fires forward, narrowly missing the undead as it collides with a nearby tree and causes it to bloom. The bark splitting with a loud pop.
Jack peers at it from over his shoulder, realizing the power even smaller blasts can summon. If even one were to strike him, it could mean instant annihilation.
More attacks are fired in a barrage.
Jack twisting and turning to avoid each as they land behind him and cause the monochrome weld at his back to flourish in brilliant fire. Elanath Malidor. The shrouded assassin screams, sending more and more of the solar strikes in hopes something may land. But it's no use.
As Townsen draws nearer, another spherical blast is sent forward in a blinding streak at point blank range.
The vampire narrowly dodges the energies, but not by enough distance as it singes off the tip of his ear. Rage flooding his chest. An unamused Lord Townsen reaches forward with supernatural speed, his large talon gripping the narrow wrist with enough force to snap the bone. A feminine shriek fills the air. Jack pulls her hand higher just in time as another solar blast explodes past his ear, the edge singing off stray hairs as it flies into the night sky with a burst, illuminating the area in daylight for a moment. The vampire lord opens his moore with a growl as he feels the rays force smoke to rise from the edges of his flesh. The burning sensation becoming all too familiar.
>> I'm tired of this. I warned you. Gave you ample opportunity.
>> Those terrible fangs fly forward to latch onto the shrouded throat of the assassin. Her voice trembling as she struggles to keep her footing. The pads of her feet scrambling against the dirt.
As his fangs penetrate her skin, black blood sprays across his features. The voice returns within his mind.
>> At least he's happy.
>> He's >> Jack drinks them down, gulping up every ounce he can just before dropping the emptied carcass to the ground with a thud. The shroud and mask she wears are torn away to reveal her lifeless eyes, slender features, >> and elongated ears. An elf. Her black blood dribbles down Jack's chin, the rest of it coursing into the dirt where she lays. For a moment, the world becomes clear again, that strange blood filling him with an even stranger sensation. the lost tip of his ear rebuilding from the foundation until it is fully reformed.
The scorch marks across his wrists, fingers, and marring his body quickly begin to heal. He draws false breath into himself, savoring the taste, and the magics that go to work within his mechanisms.
>> You brought an elfling with you, >> he muse.
That was a stupid move. Verm red hand of Votic.
>> The last of the assassins stare on in horror as a rejuvenated Jack Townsen approaches. The air about the forest filled with menace and the scent of dead mortals. He slowly tilts his head to the side as he stares, his bloody eyes burning through the darkness.
>> My teacher told me all about them. and what their blood can do for our kind.
>> Veran scars, his sticky face scrunching as he roars.
>> Forward.
>> The remaining 10 of the unit advance, frantically stabbing at the vampire lord as he allows the blows to land. The wounds no longer singing from the solar energies.
Immune.
>> The metal of the blades still make impact, >> slicing and causing the sparkling red liquid to splash. Yet, they heal as fast as they're made from Jack's enhanced state. Those elongated black claws go to work, slashing in glorious violence, singing through the air as they take to each of the soldiers one by one, turning white sashes the same red as Verin's official one. Blood paints the land, feeding the ashen earth holy human vitality.
One by one, the men and women fall. but not Vermin.
Jack leaves him alive despite the leader's attempts to take the fight to him. At every attempt of the red hand, Jack ignores the rest to land blow after blow upon Ven, separating him from his group.
>> The force of his punches sends the man reeling across the field. His friends and soldiers ripped to bloody chunks as he watches helplessly as body after body hits the dat most mutilated by those terrible talons. Verm finally falls to a knee.
>> Fight me. Fight me, you coward. Kill me with my men.
>> His bold fists slam into the ground, begging for a death that doesn't come.
>> Bad day. KILL ME, YOU damned monster.
You are a foe worthy of my death. No.
Jack bellows, finishing off the last of the 12, his claws slashing through the warm, soft belly of the man, his inad spilling out and into the dirt.
>> Not you. Never you. You will remember this day. You will remember when your best turned out to be nothing but feal matter to feed the worms.
>> The Lord of Darkness stares on with splattered claws and a mouth caked in the blood of his enemies. As Verin attempts to close the distance again, a spinning kick leaves him open. The lord gifts a palm strike to his groin with a resounding crunch, forcing the man to tumble backwards into the vegetation.
Townzone looms over him.
>> Your entire life will be spent remembering this one moment when an immortal begged you to avoid conflict and you refused to listen.
Jack's boots clump over the chunks of flesh and mangled bodies before sweeping his hand to grasp throat, squeezing tightly, his fangs inches from his face, displaying the gore between his teeth.
>> When you close your eyes, >> he starts spitting blood into his golden orbs in an effort to dim them.
I want you to see my face. To watch over and over as your men die the unceremoniously painful deaths they earned. To hear their cries of agony in your dreams. And to have every single one of your happy memories interrupted by the flash of my eyes in the darkness.
>> Screams, his eyes filled with horror.
>> You would deny me my death. you would force such a fate onto me.
>> The red hand reaches his palm to clutch at the vampire's hair, attempting to pull him down to finish the job.
>> You would damn me to be dishonored to return to my people of failure.
Disgraced.
>> He roars out.
>> Kill me.
>> Jack drops him to the muk.
>> No, I'm tired. Now crawl back and tell your king you failed. I'm going home.
>> The vampire turns to head towards Zealoth, his steed still trapped within that barrier of light. Verin picks up his dagger.
>> You will kill me with my men or I will come back for you again and again until we are nothing but husks in the face of eternity.
The assassin scrambles to his feet and makes a mad dash for Jack. His blade held high to stab him in the back.
Townsen spins on his heel and catches the man, cradling his face and clutching his wrist in an instant. Verin chokes as he struggles, Jack snapping the small series of bones in his wrist and sending the dagger to the ground. Veran shrieks a muffled sound as Jack strikes his head forward into the human's cranium with a crack, forcing his brain to tap his skull, knocking him out soundly.
Jack turns from the scene at last, his crimson jacket licked in blood, his claws and fangs entangled with bits of flesh. He looks to his mentor Steve.
With a final step, he sends his boot forward, scattering debris across the archaic signate upon the ground and disrupting the light, freeing Zealot from his imprisonment.
>> "Are you all right?"
>> he mutters, reaching bloody claws over the scorched body of the horse. The damage beyond any immediate repair.
I will be fine, Lord Townsen, but I cannot remain here. My form has been destabilized, and I must return to my master for repair.
>> See to it you return home safely. And when you do, inform David of what has happened, that his theories are true.
Jack not. And as he does, Zephaloth's body shimmers and fades, vanishing from where he stands.
>> The vampire lord shambles across the stained dirt and through the forest. His wounds healing, yet the pain never leaves. He is a mess as he tries to keep himself together. Hundreds of stab wounds attempting to heal at once. The traces of light keeping them open, though dispersed from the unnatural elven blood. The agony of those wounds are the real scar.
Miles down the road he travels, passing sleepy village after sleepy village until he reaches that familiar abysmal opening, the plains of ash.
He smiles, knowing he draws closer home.
For a moment, he decides to let loose, sprinting across the field and toward the haunted veil yet again. Reaching the other side, he pants, but not from being out of breath, rather from the wounds opening upon his romp through the long dead grasses.
Hands rest against his thighs as he doubles over, feeling untethered.
The voice in his mind screams out again.
>> Yes, good.
You did them a service. Swept the earth clean of their golden taint and taught a valuable lesson. Leaving one alive was smart.
Though cruer than I expected of you, now there will be more to play with, to devour, and they'll be coming right for us.
>> Jack stops by a nearby tree, his fist balling tightly as he sends it hurtling straight through the bark. Splinters exploding as shards of wood take to the air, crashing against another tree and onto the ground with a thud.
>> Shut up. SHUT UP for once. You were quiet for so long. Why are you back?
>> He growls in frustration, his claws clutching gore mattered strands of black as they tangle on their way down his shoulders.
>> I had you under control. You were under control.
>> The voice returns again, throbbing within his mind.
>> Oh no, sweet J.
You will never be rid of me so easily.
We are bound together, you and I. Closer to one another than the blood in your veins.
I remain snuggled tightly against your soul, and we won't ever be away from each other. You are mine, and I am yours.
Little vampire.
>> As the voice dissipates, another sound swells nearby.
>> The bristling of leaves and the crunching of fallen branches.
>> Daddy chill.
>> Daddy chill.
>> Something else watches from the shadows, darting between the trees and dancing in the moonlight before it begins to fade.
Jack's form flickers before vanishing from sight. His heightened speed kicking into action as he signals his oldest dark gift. His body hurtling through space and time to land him right next to the intruder. With a mighty roar like echolocation from a bat, he finds his target, a human form of some kind. He grips it, his fangs darting to stab deep into the being's throat, tasting sweet vital fluids before releasing.
Jack raises a dangerous talon to sweep it across his prey, slashing the body of the intruder and sending it top into a nearby tree.
>> "You will not get the upper hand on me.
Not again," >> he cries, but as he does, the blood haze is lifted from his vision. The red frame of the world dissipates as his burning eyes land upon a young man dressed in brown rags instead of the vein he expected.
The boy lays against the tree, his gloved fingers cradling his neck and chest as his blood sprays from the wounds, gurgling for breath. Jack stomps forward to inspect him closer, drawing near the pungent aroma of sweat and old clothes. The clothes of a vagrant, an outcast.
Leaning forward, Jack takes in more details, his vision clearing entirely.
Before him lies a young man, no older than his sister was when he left her.
His grain skin rough and ragged from the winds and the dry air of the blighted nature draconia provides. Long rivets of brown cascade over his face and against his torn neck.
Please, please. I I I don't I don't want to die.
I don't want to die. Jack's size.
>> [ __ ] >> And that is chapter 3 of Everdust: The Light Slayer audio book coming out June 2nd. Guys, we hope that you've enjoyed this free chapter, this this preview >> of what's only the beginning of the story.
>> An incredible story. A remarkable unforgettable story.
>> Story of a lifetime that you will never forget and you don't want to miss.
>> This is so sweet.
>> So good to me.
>> Everybody did incredible in this thing, dude. Chris killed it. Her narrating skills, her voice acting is incredible.
The mixing is incredible. I I did a good job. I think I did pretty good. I think so.
>> You did phenomenal.
absolutely phenomenal.
>> Let us know in the comments below what you guys think of the this chapter from the audio book. Are you excited for the audiobook coming June 2nd? Are you excited for the rest of the Everdusk saga which uh will continue pretty soon here in written format. I'll keep you guys updated uh on the next entries.
Yeah, but check it out June 2nd. And if you want to listen to this again without our interruptions and without our commentary, >> it is going to be available for free on Patreon over at the Vampire Jack Townson Patreon. You'll be able to download it and listen to it for free the entire hourong chapter. Mhm.
>> Head there, check it out, and we'll see you all across the haunted veil.
We're back, baby.
See you all soon.
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