Life in the Ashes E-Book

Verena Dorne

• Herausgeber: epubli
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

Life in the Ashes In a world torn by magic and violence, Karl Schäfer awakens after his violent death in the body of a mercenary and finds himself in the dark city of Dunkelburg. As he fights his way through a web of betrayal, ancient curses and demonic forces, he realizes that his destiny involves much more than just survival. But in the fight against dark forces he must decide how much of his humanity he wants to sacrifice for power and revenge. A thrilling mix of magic, intrigue and the search for redemption.

Leseprobe

Title:Life in the Ashes

Author:Verena Dorne

Biography:

Verena Dorne was born near Dresden in 1982. Even as a child, she was fascinated by stories and adventures that she found in old books, films and in her own imagination. After school, she moved to the big city, where she took on various jobs in the creative field -from graphic design to freelance work as a content editor.

Her passion for dark fantasy worlds and complex characters eventually led her to writing. Today she lives in a small apartment on the outskirts of an old, war-torn city, where she writes her books and draws inspiration from the nature and history of her surroundings.

Prologue: Death is only the beginning The night was damp and cold, the rain was pounding on the pavement, and somewhere in the distance a dog was howling. Karl Schäfer pulled his worn parka tighter around his shoulders and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Shitty life," he muttered. His voice sounded hoarse, and the acrid smell of garbage cans mixed with the metallic taste of blood on his tongue. The alley was dark, only a flickering, broken neon light above a run-down kiosk illuminated the scene. Karl looked over his shoulder. No one was to be seen. He felt that cold on the back of his neck that told him something was wrong. He pulled his folding knife out of his pocket - blunt and rusty, but better than nothing. “If this continues, I’ll end up slitting someone open,” he cursed.

Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him. A fast, hectic beat. Karl turned around, knife in hand. "Who's there? Come out before I slit your throat, you wanker!" No answer. Just the rain and a quiet giggle coming from somewhere in the shadows. His heart beat faster. “No desire to play games, man!” Karl took a step forward, but his foot stepped into a deep puddle and the water splashed over his shoes.That giggling again. Closer this time.

“Fuck it,” he muttered and walked on. The knife was barely at eye level when he suddenly felt a dull thud. Pain shot through his chest. He staggered back, dropped the knife and looked down. A blade, long and thin like a needle sword, protruded from his stomach. Blood dripped down it.

“Oh, fuck me,” he moaned.

In front of him stood a man in a dark coat. The hood covered his face, but his voice was quiet and cold like a gravestone. "This is how your miserable life ended, Karl Schäfer."

Karl wanted to answer, wanted to say something harsh, but all he managed was a gasping sound. Blood ran from the corner of his mouth and his knees gave way. He landed in the dirt, the rain still pouring down on him. The man disappeared without a sound, and Karl just lay there, unable to move.

His thoughts slowed down. "That's it, then," he thought. No grand finale, no final triumph. Just an alley, rain and blood.

“What a load of shit,” he muttered. Then everything went black.

When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he noticed was the stench. Rot, sweat and something that smelled like flesh. His head was pounding and his wholeBody felt like it had been lying in a dung heap for a week.

He blinked, looked down and froze. "What the hell?"

His hands were not his hands. Big, fleshy hands, covered in dirty nails and scars. He tasted his face and found a crooked nose and a fat scar running across his cheek.

"Oh, come on. What the hell is this?" He tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy and strained. When he finally stood, he looked around. He was in a field. There were corpses everywhere -men in rusty armor, women in torn clothes, even a few children. The air was stifling, and a dark, unnatural storm loomed on the horizon.

“What is this, some damn medieval role-playing game?”

He searched his pockets but found nothing except a rusty dagger and a bag with some coins. No cell phone, no cigarettes, not even a damn piece of gum. "Okay, Karl, calm down," he muttered. "You're dead, aren't you? This is... I don't know, it's definitely not heaven. Maybe hell. But why do I look like a damn caveman?"

He heard footsteps behind him. When he turned around, he sawhe saw three men coming towards him with drawn swords. Their faces were smeared with mud and blood and their eyes glowed with murderous intent.

“Give us everything you have or we will slaughter you like a pig!” shouted one of them.

Karl stared at her. "Seriously? This has to be a bad joke."

The men laugh. One stepped forward, his sword raised. "We'll gladly take it too." Are you going to run, or do you want to do it the hard way?"

Karl spat on the floor. "You know what, fuck you." The man screamed and lunged at him. Without thinking, Karl reached for the rusty dagger at his side. His body reacted instinctively - faster than he ever could. In one brutal move, he rammed the dagger into the man's throat.

Blood spurted and the man collapsed to the ground. The others stared at him and for a moment everything was silent.

“Well, who’s next?” asked Karl, grinning. His grin didn't feel real, and a voice in his head screamed:What the hell is happening here?! The other men turned around and ran away. Karl looked at the dagger in his hand. His breathing was heavy and his heart was racing. “What the hell kind of bastard have you become, Shepherd?”

He looked up at the dark sky as lightning lit up the night. Somewhere deep inside, he knew his life would never be the same again.

"Shit," he muttered. "This is a good start."

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Shit Karl woke up with a sharp, stabbing pain in his head. The first thing he felt was the cold. The wet earth beneath him sucked the warmth from his body like a damn vampire, and the air smelled of blood, death, and shit. He opened his eyes, blinked in the gray light, and looked straight into the staring gaze of a dead man. “Dude… that’s a shitty awakening.” The man in front of him - or what was left of him - had a sword stuck in his stomach. His face was destroyed, his eyes glassy. Karl swallowed and slowly sat up. His limbs felt as if he had slept in a concrete block for a year.

He looked around. There were corpses everywhere. Men in suits of armor that looked as if they had been cobbled together from scrap metal, women with blood-stained clothes, and a few horse carcasses half buried in the dirt. The background noises were oppressive: the buzzing of flies, the crackling of smoldering fire, the creaking of an overturned cart. Karl grabs his head. "Okay, Schäfer... think about it. What happened? You were in the alley, got hit, and now you're... here?"

He felt the pressure of a band around his forehead and felt carefully. A scar ran across his temple. Panic crept up inside him when he noticed thathis hands didn't look like his own - larger, rougher, covered in calluses and old scars.

"What the hell...? Am I in another body?" He stumbled toward a puddle that had collected in a depression. The murky water was barely clear enough, but he could make out his face. It wasn't him. It was another guy. A rough-looking guy with a matted beard, greasy hair, and a healed cut running across his cheek. "Great. Not only was I dead, but now I'm the ugliest bastard in the universe."

Before he could think about it further, he heard voices. Rough, noisy, and approaching. He ducked behind an overturned wagon and peered out cautiously. Three men were coming over the hill. They looked like they had spent the last few weeks looting and scavenging. Their armor was dented, and one of them was dragging a sword behind him as if it were a toy. "Hey, look, there's another one lying there," one of the men shouted, pointing to the spot where Karl had just been lying. "Maybe he's still alive. We could gut him." Karl pulled out the rusty dagger he carried. His heart was racing and he felt adrenaline pumping through his veins.

"Stay calm," he whispered to himself. "Three guys, all armed. You're screwed."

The men came closer. The leader, a stocky, bald guy, laughed dirty. "If he's alive, we'll slaughter him. If not, we'll take his clothes."

Karl jumped up. "Fuck off before I rip your ass open!" The men stopped. The bald man grinned. "Oh, he still has fire. I like it."

One of the men drew his sword and charged at Karl. Karl dodged without thinking. It was as if his body had a life of its own. He ducked, grabbed the attacker's wrist and rammed the dagger into his side. Blood spurted. The man screamed, collapsed and lay motionless.

"What the...?" Karl stared at his hands. He hadn't thought, he had just acted - as if he were a trained fighter.

The other two men hesitated, then the bald man attacked. He struck with his sword, but Karl dodged again. This time he grabbed a broken spear from the ground and used it to throw the attacker off balance. The bald man fell to his knees, and Karl slashed his throat with the spear.

The last man dropped his weapon and ran away. Karl stopped, gasping, the bloody piece of wood in his hand. His heart was racing and he felt the adrenaline slowly draining from him.

"What... the hell was that?" He looked at his hands, which were still covered in blood. "I'm a goddamn office worker, not a killer!"

He dropped the spear and stared at the corpses. His stomach churned, but he swallowed the nausea. "Okay, Shepherd," he muttered. "You're dead, in a new body, and somehow... you know how to kill people." He reaches for the dead men's weapons - a sword that looked halfway usable and a bag with a few coins and some bread.

On the horizon he saw a city, its high walls blurred by the mist. Smoke rose from several chimneys, and the gate was just a small, dark spot in the distance. "Maybe I can get some answers there. Or at least a drink."

He set off. The earth clung to his boots and the cold still bit into his skin, but something about this body felt… strong.

Karl didn't look back. Behind him were only corpses, and in front of him a city that looked just as shitty as the rest of the world.

“Welcome to the shit, Shepherd,” he muttered and stomped off.

Chapter 2: Dunkelburg – A City of Sin The sun was setting behind a gray veil of smoke and cloud when Karl reached the massive city gates of Darkburg. The stench that hit him was worse than anything he could have imagined: a broader mixture of rot, burnt wood, and unwashed bodies. "Nice," he muttered, holding his nose. "Welcome to the Middle Ages, Shepherd. I hope you have tetanus protection."

The walls of Darkburg were high and made of black stone, covered with moss and the remains of old banners. A few men were loitering outside the gates -obviously guards, although they looked more like highwaymen in armor. One of them, a fat man with greasy hair, stepped forward as Karl approached. "Stop, stranger!" he shouted. "No entry without toll. Five silver pieces or you turn back." Karl frowned. "Tolls? For this pile of dirt? You've got to be kidding."

The fat guy pulled his sword out of its sheath a little and grinned broadly, revealing several faulty teeth. "No joke, buddy. Either you pay or we take what we want. Maybe even your ugly face."

Karl gritted his teeth. He didn't really feel like starting a fight right at the city gate. With an annoyed sigh, he pulled out the coins he had taken from the mercenaries and threw them at the fat man's feet. "There, you fatso. Buy yourself something nice."

The man laughed, made the coins disappear and stepped aside. "Welcome to Darkburg. Watch your ass." Charles pushed open the heavy gates and entered the city.

Darkburg was like the mouth of hell. Narrow, winding alleys hung with rickety wooden beams and tarpaulins that barely let in the light. The streets were littered with garbage, broken carts, and rats bordering dead cats. People - or rather, creatures that barely look like people - were everywhere. Vendors with rotten teeth shouted at their wares while women in low-cut dresses tried to lure customers into dark alleys. “Nice area,” Karl muttered as he made his way through the chaos.

He pulled up the hood of his coat and kept his head down. He felt the eyes on him - the kind of eyes that look you up as if you were a piece of meat. A few children with dirty faces ran past and jostled him. He felt a hand reach for his pocket, but he turned around quickly and grabbed the offender.on the arm. It was a girl, perhaps 18 or 19, with short, tousled hair and an attitude that seemed both defiant and daring. Her green eyes flashed with anger. “Let me go, asshole!” she hissed, trying to break free. “Did you just steal from me?” asked Karl, his voice cold.

The girl grinned cheekily. "I tried to help you get rid of your money. You look like you can't spend it anyway."

Karl pulled her closer. "Listen, kid. I've already killed three guys today, so don't test my luck." Her grin widened. "Big words for someone who looks like he hasn't slept in a week." You can't hold me anyway."

In one swift movement, she kicked him in the shin, which surprised him and allowed her to break free. With a mocking laugh, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving Karl standing there like an idiot. “Fucking thief!” he yelled, which earned him some strange looks.

He tasted like his bag – empty. Everything gone. Even the damn dagger.

"Perfect," he murmured. "Really. It's going great." He looked around and followed the direction the girl had disappeared in. He knew it was pointless, but he needed something. Money, weapons, something to survive in this shithole.

After a few minutes of struggling through dark alleys, he heard a familiar voice.

"Five silver pieces? Is that all? For such a stupid coat?" Karl peeked around the corner and saw the girl. They were standing in a group of shady characters - three men and a woman, all with dirty weapons and even dirtier clothes.

“I swear, Greta, I’ll kill you one day if you keep bringing in such garbage,” growled one of the men.

"Don't be ridiculous, Bernd," the girl replied, revealing Greta. "This guy looked like he had more, but the rest was damn well hidden."

Karl stepped forward. "Hey, Greta! I think you have something that belongs to me."

The gang turned around. Greta looked surprised, but quickly recovered and grinned again. "Oh, the big, bad wolf. You're really damned, you know that?" The other men drew their weapons, but Karl raised his hands in a placating gesture.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to kill you all.” Justmy stuff back and we'll forget about this."

Greta laughed. "Forget it. You're alone and unarmed. What do you want to do?"

Karl sighed. "I wanted to be nice. Now there's trouble." Before anyone could react, he grabbed a loose wooden beam from the side and slammed it into one of the men's faces. The guy fell to the ground and Karl spun around just in time to avoid another man's blow. Greta stepped back while Karl took the gang apart with brutal efficiency. It was that feeling again - when his body had a kind of murderous life of its own. Punches, kicks, quick movements. A few minutes later the men were lying unconscious or stumbling on the ground. Greta stood there, her eyes wide. "What the hell are you?"

Karl grabbed his bag from her and grinned. "Me? Just a guy just starting out."

She stared at him, then started to laugh. "I like you, loudmouth. Maybe we'll see each other again." With these words she disappeared into another alley, and Karl remained behind, breathing heavily and feeling the gazes of the few passers-by who had observed the scene.

"What a shitty day," he muttered, continuing on his way through Darkburg.