Tales of Imagination E-Book

Charles Lankiwicz

• Herausgeber: BookRix
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

A collection of six stories that include science fiction, horror and fantasy. Each with an illustration for the title page. Lengths vary from short to novella.

Leseprobe

Charles Lankiwicz

Tales of Imagination

BookRix GmbH & Co. KG81371 Munich

Guide to Contents

Table of Contents

The BloodstoneThe MirrorThe TempleThe Lights of Capella IVThe NexusThe House

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. All names, places and incidents are the product of the imagination of the author. Any resemblance to real names, places and incidents is coincidental.

The Bloodstone

The tropical sun beat down mercilessly on Aland, as he went up the river in his small boat. It seemed to fill the whole sky, its shape distorted by shimmering heat waves. His powerful, well muscled body glistened with sweat, as he used his paddle, even though he was clad only in a kilt and sandals. He was 25 years old, and had even features, topped by a head of long black hair. Close at hand were his weapons: a sword and a cross-bow like weapon called a Zarken.

For some time now, he had the feeling of being watched, as he scanned the thick jungle that bordered the muddy water of the river. It was like an uncomfortable itch that he could not relieve. Another thing was the total absence of sound from the jungle, which contrasted with the cacophony he had heard when he first entered the river on the small island. He felt a tingle of excitement. Could it be that he was nearing his goal? Were there survivors at this late date? He thought of the sequence of events that had brought him to his present situation:

It had now been 30 years since the Priests of Baal Sagroth had imposed their dark religion on the Empire of Atlantis. They had been working towards this goal for decades. Officials had been bribed, threats and assassinations made. A letter would be received directing a course of action favorable to the Priesthood, and dire results would follow its being ignored. A pile of gold would weigh a hand, a knock would sound in the middle of the night, one would open the door to meet members of the Brotherhood of Baal, to be followed by a trip to the temple from which there would be no return.

But far worse than this was the use of the Dark Forces by the Priests of Baal. Screams would be heard in the night, and a mutilated body would be found, with no possibility of a human agent being involved. At times, someone would disappear, to be found several days later, totally and hopelessly insane.

Slowly, like a decomposing corpse, by means both fair and foul, the Priests of Baal-Sagroth eroded away at the ruling aristocracy and established religion of Re, until they openly declared their power. The Priests of Re were disbanded, arrested and imprisoned or executed. The survivors fled to other lands, or submerged into an underground organization, to which Aland belonged. This organization, the Al-Re, was working to reestablish the former power of, as well as keeping the religion of Re alive. Continually, they sought ways to counter the evils of the Priests of Baal-Sagroth.

The priests of Baal-Sagroth ruled with a heavy, cruel hand. Onerous taxes were made on the people to enrich the temples of Baal. Once each year the Daughters of Baal were selected from the young girls who had reached their eighteenth birthday, ostensibly an honor to the girl’s family. Gory public sacrifices to Baal were instituted, requiring the attendance of the people. Supporters of Re who were caught and who would not recant their belief, were put to death in the arena for public amusement.

The Baal-Ed-Dal was activated to guard against heresy. Its members frequently worked undercover, and no one could be sure who was an agent of the dreaded society. Many bribes were accepted, and many innocent people were sent to a temple to be tortured and included in an arena spectacle.

The Atlantean royalty was completely under the control of the priests. The real ruler of Atlantis was Dagonal, the High Priest of Baal.

Aland’s parents had been killed for their support of Re, when he was a small child. He had been raised by the Al-Re, and his one purpose in life was to see the downfall of the religion of Baal-Sagroth. He was expertly trained in the marital arts, as well as in other areas, such as magic and spying, and had become a Re-Az, or special agent in the Al-Re.

Aland’s current mission was to find the Bloodstone. Legend placed it on an island in the Great Green Sea, surrounded by a ring of water weeds miles wide. Thousands of years ago the people of the city of Id on the island engaged in the most abominable rites and practices with the Bloodstone. Within a short time the island, once a thriving center of commerce, began to be shunned by neighboring peoples. Mariners feared it, and would not sail near it. Ship wrecked sailors stranded on it were never heard from again. It was believed by the Al-Re that the Bloodstone must be found to combat the Priesthood of Baal, and that it might still be on the island. Therefore some 20 vessels, of which Aland’s was one, were dispatched to search for the island. Now it appeared that Aland was to be the one to find it after all the ages it had been lost to the knowledge of man.

As Aland rowed up the river, a strange object came into view in the middle of the river.

At first, he thought that it was a small island or a large boulder covered with vegetation. A closer inspection revealed that it was a huge head. The features, which he made out with some difficulty, were hideous. It head was roughly man shaped, but its over long ears were pointed; its slanted eyes had slit pupils; two slits served it for a nose, and its mouth had cruel fangs; its skin was scaly and greenish yellow colored. Clearly, its purpose was to act as a warning not to proceed further upstream.

Aland found himself trembling, and an icy chill set into his bones. Somehow he had the feeling that the thing was alive in some horrid fashion, that a scaly hand could reach out of the muddy water and seize his boat, crushing it to splinters. It could be a Told, a carving breathed into demonical life by black magic. Perhaps even now, after all this time, the right words would give it diabolical life. He felt a weight lift from him as he continued past.

He now caught occasional glimpses of flat topped pyramids with temples at their summits, through the tree tops. It could only be the city of Id. In spite of his forebodings, he felt excitement flow through him. At long last-his goal! He debated in his mind if he should enter the city in daylight or at night. He decided to observe it first, and pulled into the bank.

When his boat grounded, he ran to the prow and jumped to the muddy bank, bordered by dense jungle. Not for an instant did he care to set foot into the muddy water. Any refuse he had thrown overboard had been instantly gobbled up by something he could not see. Several times, his boat had rocked as something had passed beneath it in the water.

Once ashore, he secured the boat. I should eat, he thought. He had not done so, since having entered the river that morning. But, he was far too excited, and decided not to. Strapping on his sword and slinging his zarken over his shoulder, he was off into the jungle.

A number of things struck him instantly, the noxious smell of rotting vegetation, the murky darkness, and hordes of biting insects. Grimly he forged ahead through the thick vegetation, cutting with his long sword. After what seemed a great while, he saw the growth thinning out ahead. The city must be just ahead, he thought with satisfaction and relief.

Suddenly a weird figure popped up out of the jungle just in front of him. It was about five foot high, and seemed half human and half... Aland realized to his horror that it resembled the head in the river. It was armed with a crude wooden club, and, with a mewing cry, charged at him.

He swung his sword instantly, without hesitation, like the trained fighting man he was, hitting the creature where the head meets the body. The shock of the blow ran up his arms and into his shoulders. A greenish ichor gushed up from the creature, and its head almost parted from its body as it fell at Aland’s feet.

Then six more of them sprang out at him from all sides, growling and mewing in rage and hate. Aland was borne to the ground before he could do anything. With a roar of hate and fear, he half lifted himself up. Then a club hit him in the head and everything went black.