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- Herausgeber: Story Prism Studios
- Sprache: Englisch
The Light Of Shiva
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021
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Table of Contents
Title Page
The Light Of Shiva
About The Author
Copyright
The Light Of Shiva
By Tami Veldura
Meriam Helsing drove her sword into the gut of a pale, hissing vampire. She ducked his claws and yanked the blade out sideways. Without any muscles intact in his abdomen, the vampire collapsed—down, but not dead. Mariam stepped away from his reach, putting the wall of the church to her back as she surveyed the battlefield.
Moonlight filtered in through the stained glass, highlighting blood and guts in silver and gold light. Three vampires lay beheaded at the entrance to the church, where Meriam had slammed the doors open and laid them to waste. The doors still stood open, though the handful of people who brought her here weren't in sight. If they were smart they'd fled the scene.
Two more vampires, newly turned fiends without any proper blood-sense, lay gutted and staked at the first row of pews. They were fresh enough from their humanity that Meriam hoped they could be turned to thralls or something more useful. Whoever had turned them clearly didn't want to raise a proper vampire if they were being thrown into battle like this.
The creature at Meriam's feet crawled closer, leaving a runway of red smeared behind him. His claws cracked the church's tile floor, digging in for leverage, and his gaunt face held a grimace. No doubt he was in agonizing pain, but without the blood of his sire, he wouldn't be healing any time soon.
Meriam had hoped to find the sire here. She'd already destroyed three nests just like this one, occupying the basements or attics of nondescript local churches. Churches were holy ground. Consecrated ground. Unless of course they weren't. How many churches followed all the tenants of their beliefs in this day and age? How many sanctified the property and the building, not just their priests?
On her personal scale of Do No Harm, the churches sat right around the vampires themselves. Right next to her. So everyone was in familiar company, then.
The church was small, only a dozen or so rows of pews before a tiny music stand used for a lecturn at the front. A bit of a raised stage in a half circle stood behind that, decorated in green and silver for the coming holiday. There was a door set into the wall on the left that led to a baptising room. Another on the right Meriam assumed hid an office.
And that was it. A few decorations, some benches, a couple of impressive stained glass windows: instant church.
Which is why the vampires had found the building to be a perfect hide-away. No one expects vampires in church.
The vampire crawling toward Meriam had made a few feet of progress. Without any sign of the sire, she crouched a safe distance away and tapped the vampire's reaching hand with the tip of her sword. "Where's your sire?"
The vampire hissed at her, flashing two sets of sharp fangs. His eyes were red all the way across. No pupil, no white. She wasn't going to get any words out of him in a blood-haze. Meriam clicked her tongue, stood, and decapitated the creature. Blood arced across the tile in front of her boots.
Without the last vampire's hissing and spitting, the church quieted. Meriam's boots clicked as she walked around the perimeter of the building to open each of the doors and check all of the rooms. One didn't stay a hunter for long without a healthy dose of caution and an abundance of paranoia.
