Dark Fall Read online

  A Total-E-Bound Publication

  www.total-e-bound.com

  Dark Fall

  ISBN # 978-0-85715-034-9

  ©Copyright Gwendolyn Cease 2010

  Cover Art by Natalie Winters ©Copyright February 2010

  Edited by Christine Riley

  Total-E-Bound Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Total-E-Bound Publishing.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Total-E-Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2010 by Total-E-Bound Publishing, Think Tank, Ruston Way, Lincoln, LN6 7FL, United Kingdom

  .

  Warning: This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has been rated Total-e-burning.

  DARK FALL

  Gwendolyn Cease

  Dedication

  Mom, thank you for always having faith in me no matter what.

  For our service men and women, the real heroes in our world today.

  Chapter One

  Lorem Max Whitfield moved silently through the dawn’s light. A breeze kicked up sand and he subtly motioned for his team to stop. They were finally in position. Max cradled his weapon close and went into a crouch waiting for the signal to go.

  Max, as one of the senior officers with the longest time served, was patient in the extreme. He’d been a Marine for nearly fourteen years, joining as soon as he’d gotten out of high school at seventeen. He’d done two tours in Iraq and was now on his second in Afghanistan. And for the first time, he was bone deep tired. He planned to request a rotation home after this tour, but didn’t think they’d give it to him. Someone with his combat experience wasn’t easily let go. All he wanted, though, was to sleep for maybe a month. He’d be good to go again after the break. At least he hoped he would.

  To stop the thoughts, he tapped his communication device, “Yo, O’Neal.”

  “Go ahead, M. I’m listening,” a female voice answered.

  Keira O’Neil, strangely enough, was one of his best friends in the unit. He couldn’t care less that she was a woman. She was a damn fine Marine, and someone he wanted at his back. Her instincts were almost as good as his own, and his were telling him serious shit was heading their way.

  “You got anything?” he asked, scanning the desolate landscape.

  “Negative. Nothing moving out here, but the sand.”

  “But?”

  “I got a gut feeling something’s hinky. Don’t know what though.”

  “Ditto.”

  He heard their commander give the order to move into the next set of caves. Max motioned to the two men behind him and began to advance. This was the most dangerous time, where they could be spotted at any moment. He worked his way forward, straining all his senses to ascertain what was eating at him. Though he couldn’t see or hear anything strange, his gut told him to turn and run.

  “O’Neal?” The commander’s voice spoke softly in his ear. He must have missed some type of exchange, but he didn’t miss the next part.

  “We need to fall back. Immediately.”

  “What is it?”

  Max didn’t wait for her to answer. He gestured to the two men behind him to begin a retreat. If O’Neal’s gut was talking like his, they were in serious danger.

  “Pull back. We need to pull back.”

  Max heard the order being given, but before he could act the world exploded around them. A detonation more intense than anything he’d seen or felt before knocked him to the ground. He could hear screaming as waves of fire seemed to flood the area and he closed his eyes to darkness.

  Max opened his eyes and rolled to his feet instantly awake. Two bits of information came to him immediately. One, he was naked. Two, he was trapped inside a cage with a few members of his unit, who were similarly undressed. Max squatted next to the demolitions expert, Dawson, and felt for a pulse. It was strong and steady, but the man was out cold. He moved to check on Hawkins and Colter, who were in similar straits. He glanced around to find the rest of his unit. They weren’t with them.

  He stood and slowly began to take stock of what type of situation they’d found themselves. The cage sat in a large cave and was one of ten, or at least that’s what he could see. He ran a hand over his face, weary and disgusted. The whole situation was a cluster fuck if there ever was one. Sensing movement outside the bars, Max opened his mouth to speak, but nothing issued forth. What approached didn’t begin to resemble human. It was mottled grey with a large barrel chest and long muscular arms. Two short little bandy legs with thick muscular thighs propelled the thing forward in an almost comical waddling gait. Two floppy ears topped the head as one large eye centred over what Max assumed was a nose, and two large impressive tusks, which jutted from a square lower jaw.

  A series of grunts and squeaks issued from its distorted mouth as it gestured wildly at him. Not knowing what to do, Max shrugged and shook his head. This had to be a dream. It had to. Nothing like the thing before him existed on Earth. If it had, someone would have discovered it, right?

  “He wants you to move away from the bars.”

  Max spun and his gaze dropped to view the small being who stood behind him. He couldn’t have been more than five feet with sleek emerald-hued skin, large dark eyes, and cropped forest green hair. The little male cocked his head and studied Max as intently as Max was sure he was studying him.

  “Why?” Max finally asked.

  “Your size and bearing intimidate him. If there’s one thing the Gorsh don’t like it’s someone meaner than they are.”

  Max stepped away from the bars without a backwards glance. “This isn’t a dream is it?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

  “No.” The male motioned him to sit. “I’m Gart of the Trall. I’ve rarely seen those of your species here.”

  “Max Whitfield. Where’s here?”

  Gart thought for a moment. “Currently, we reside in a Gorsh slave camp. Soon they’ll move us to the town of Baarl, where they’ll attempt to auction us off. The entire realm is Thorash and every inhabitant in it are called Daemons.”

  “You’re joking right?” Max asked, without thinking.

  Gart cocked his head again, in an almost bird-like gesture. “I’m sorry, but no.”

  Max opened his mouth, closed it, and finally settled for breathing deeply. What the fuck! If Gart was to be believed—and really why would he lie?—they were somehow no longer on Earth. How was that possible? How had they gone from Afghanistan to this place?

  “I see you have many questions.” Gart glanced around quickly. “I’ll try to answer what I can, in the time we have. I’m sure you’d like to know how you got here. For that, I have no answer. Somehow, the Gorsh were able to open a portal between this dimension and yours. I don’t know how, since opening portals isn’t a gift the species possesses. All I know, is a number of beings resembling you were brought here and the Gorsh will auction them off. That’s what they do.”

  “We need to get out of here.” Max looked to discover his teammates were beginning to stir.

  Gart touched hi
m lightly on the arm. “Their strength lies in the number of beings in each band. Wait, if you wish to attempt an escape, and get to the auction area. It’ll be open and harder to keep track. But know that others have tried to get away before and the punishment was a slow lingering death filled with much pain.”

  Before Max could join his team, the door of the cage clanged open and three Gorsh waited by the open door. One had a large metal tipped stick, the other a whip, and the third some type of club with spikes.

  Max motioned for Hawkins, Colter, and Dawson, who were still groggy, to join them. The three men moved forward and fell into place with Max. He quickly explained the situation as he kept an eye on the creatures currently grunting and squealing at them. In all, ten men were herded to the doorway and he wanted to be ready.

  “What’s the plan?” Hawkins asked.

  “Stay lose and wait for an opening,” Max whispered, unsure if the Gorsh could understand him.

  “Where’re the others?” Dawson asked.

  “Don’t know. We could be the only ones they captured.”

  “Or the only ones who survived,” Colter mumbled.

  Max didn’t reply as he followed after Gart. His men eased in behind him and they moved to the doorway. The floor was dirt over rock and free of debris. Max figured they wouldn’t want anything lying around someone could use as a weapon. Smart, but obviously they didn’t realise if a person was trained right he didn’t need a weapon. He was one.

  The Gorsh herded them out the door and onto a black metal platform. A cage of lights formed around them as it rose slowly into the air. Max guessed the lights weren’t there for decoration and stayed well away from them. Four slavers fell into step beside the platform as it moved down a corridor. All Max could see was rock to the sides and above them. He wondered if this was all there was to this strange world they found themselves.

  Hawkins leaned in close and whispered, “Where’re they taking us?”

  “Slave market. Apparently, this is what this species does according to Gart.” He nodded towards the smaller man.

  Hawkins turned and spoke to the other two men as Max tried to take in as much information as he could. The four guards who walked on either side of them didn’t seem in the least worried about some type of escape or rescue. Either it hadn’t been attempted or they all failed. Not much to bring a person hope, but Max and his men weren’t just anyone. They were highly trained U.S. Marines and planned to fight.

  They turned a corner to find a huge wall of pulsing blue light blocking the passage. It flowed and cracked as if made of liquid lightning, and he found it beautiful if not a little disturbing. The closer they got he could feel the hair rise on his body as if the air was charged with static electricity. Without hesitation, the platform and Gorsh crossed into the light. Max closed his eyes against the glare and felt hot air flow around his body.

  A second later the glare was gone. Max opened his eyes to a huge open cavern echoing with what sounded like a million voices. He moved towards the bars of light as the platform began to rise higher in the air. Crowds of people came into view, as did buildings and streets. The only thing he could equate it to was a small city. Beings, since he wouldn’t call them people, milled around as a large crowd began to gather around a raised rock stage.

  The platform they were on came to rest at the edge of the stage as more Gorsh swarmed around it protectively. The lights disappeared and they were nudged and shoved to face the gathering audience. Max made sure he and his men stayed close to each other as they waited for an opportunity to escape. There was no way in hell he’d allow them to be separated. They didn’t know anything about where they were so they were better off together.

  One of the Gorsh stepped forward and began to speak to the assembled crowd. They quickly quieted as he began motioning towards the group of men and Max figured he was talking about what good slaves they’d make. Yeah, if you wanted to die. He watched as another one of the slavers stepped in and shoved Gart towards the male speaking. Max tensed, hating the way the small man was being treated. He forced himself to cool down though. This wasn’t the time to lose focus.

  A few people stepped up to look over the Trall and Max looked away sickened. A society that treated its members as belongings didn’t deserve respect. He kept his head averted until raised voices drew his gaze back to where Gart stood. A misshapen being with clawed feet and an oblong head waved and shrieked at Gart while the Gorsh knocked the Trall to the ground. Without thinking, Max sprung forward and lashed his foot out to knock the Gorsh off the stage. He spun and placed himself between Gart and the other being. It fluttered its hands and backed away.

  Slavers rushed forward to grab him, and he moved swiftly striking out with feet and hands. His men moved to help him and he ordered them to go, as he took three guards down. He lost sight of them as more Gorsh moved forward. Max could feel his blood pumping with adrenaline and rage. For the first time, he became what he was trained to be, a killing machine, and damn, it felt good.

  Something dropped down on him from above and he felt a biting sting against his neck. He staggered as a multi-legged creature dropped to the floor and skittered away. A burn started in his neck and spread throughout his body between one breath and the next. He staggered and fell to one knee as the Gorsh backed away. Impossibly, he began to get aroused. His muscles shook as his cock grew hard and painful. What the fuck was happening?

  A foot kicked him in the side and Max could do nothing but take the blow. He hit the ground, but didn’t have the energy to get to his feet. The only thing he wanted was to fuck. Sweat broke out and rolled off his body as his temperature spiked. He shook the sweat from his eyes as someone forced him to his feet. The touch caused him to yell out as his hips jerked spasmodically. The crowd around him laughed as he staggered behind whoever had him.

  A Gorsh male stepped in front of him and finally spoke so he could understand. “You have been stung with Zargat venom. We give it to our females, since it makes them long to be taken for hours. But for you it means death, unless you want me to fuck you.”

  Max lurched forward and drove a fist into the male’s gut. The other being staggered back, and Max dropped to the ground once more. If he was going to die, he planned to take out as many of them as he could.

  Chapter Two

  Darke moved through the streets of Baarl acting as if he was aimlessly wandering, in actuality, it was far from the truth. Most of the citizens moved quickly out of his path, since everyone gave Carthus Daemons a wide berth. The only thing higher up on the scare-o-metre than a Carthus was a Vorshak, and even he would think twice about taking one on, since they always came in pairs. He constantly scanned the crowd as he walked, looking for his contact, his flicking tail the only sign of his unease. He was one of a small group of enforcement agents for this part of Thorash and was currently on assignment. An informant had contacted the central office with information, and Darke had been dispatched to meet and gather the intel. He hoped he hadn’t been sent on some crazy, wild fermart hunt.

  Though he despised crowds, as did his race as a whole, he entered the throng to move close to the auction block. He hated his world’s practice of selling beings, but, unfortunately, it was the law. Lately, though, someone had been breaking the dimensional portal to bring in beings from off world to sell. Doing so was illegal, and it was his job to find out who and how, and to stop it if possible.

  As the slaves moved forward, his ears joined his tail in the uneasy twitching. Something was going to go down. He removed his gloves to ensure his claws and pads were exposed and allowed his hair to unravel from the braid in which he’d bound it. The mass flowed and shifted about as it began to gather information. He moved until he had a clear shot of the staging platform when all hell broke loose. A human male leapt forward and attacked the Gorsh who’d hit a small Trall. Naked, the man was all sinew, power, and grace. Stunned, Darke grew aroused watching him. Though Carthus usually didn’t bed males, it wasn’t unheard of since
they weren’t particularly choosy about their partners. However, this was the first time anyone had made Darke sit up and take notice, male or female.

  Suddenly, one of the Gorsh tossed a Zargat into the mix and Darke exploded from the crowd to leap onto the stage. The bugs were deadly and could easily kill anyone. The male could help him in his investigation, he thought, though he knew it wasn’t the only reason he’d stepped in. He bared his fangs and roared loudly, tail lashing, as Gorsh fell into one another to escape him. Damn, it was good to inspire terror.

  “Do you want to live?” he inquired of the man lying shivering on the ground.

  The man opened his mouth, but all he could do was moan. Darke gathered him in his arms and stood. A Gorsh approached him cautiously. Even the tallest Gorsh wouldn’t be close to his six-eight height. Darke flashed his canines, and his hair lashed out like a whip. The squat daemon backed away with a squealing cry. Laughing, Darke leapt agilely off the stage and began to work his way through the crowd. No one stopped him, but if he hesitated, someone might become stupidly brave and try. He didn’t have time since the male would die.

  He opened his senses and found a portal. Though his species couldn’t create portals, they could find them. The nearest was two streets over so he wrapped the male tighter in his arms and ran. He’d seen humans before, but knew they were unusual in this realm. It was illegal to bring them through a portal to Thorash, but once they were here, it wasn’t illegal to own one. He’d only seen females, never males, but if they were all like this one he imagined the Gorsh wouldn’t want to mess with them again. The males were obviously too much trouble.

  He turned a corner and a portal flashed like bright lightning before him. Without a moment’s hesitation, he dove into it and disappeared.