ears. Battle after battle his people fought and won. The indigenous people no match for his power. He reveled in the adulation.
That was until news reached the Atlanteans. They were a clever people. They’d hidden their city under water so he hadn’t known of their existence until it was too late. They’d captured him surprisingly easily. The Atlanteans knew there was nothing on Earth that could hold him for long, so they had summarily banished him. One minute he was at the head of an army, weapon in hand, rallying his men. Their answering shouts instilling glorious fear in the enemy. The next, nothingness, he was between worlds. Of course he tried to get back. Earth had easy pickings for a creature like him, but they sent him too far away - he couldn’t get his bearings.
Luckily, or not so luckily as it turned out, he had managed to get home. When his people found out what he had done, they banished him as well, but this time it was done properly.
Adramelech mentally thanked Aras. If he couldn’t defeat the boy-king, which was frankly ludicrous, he would find a way to break the compulsion and just take over this world. They may not be as primitive as when he was last here but they hadn’t met anything like him for a thousand years.
His thoughts returning to the present day, Adramelech stood surveying the edge of the crater. Sulfuric steam belched from underground - a perfect way in.
The tourist finishing his photo of the village moved his camera around the rim of the crater. He wanted to get a panoramic of the sea next. The tripod juddered as it scraped against volcanic rock. The picture blurred as he focused the lens. Tapping it he saw Adramelech through the viewfinder. He blinked. He hadn’t been there moments before. He blinked again. The man was melting?
As he watched, Adramelech let his true form burn the veneer he’d created. Giving a wave to the nonplussed visitor, he jumped into the vent.
Oh, he’d missed this. He plunged deep into the core. The heat was glorious. One little push here and the whole volcano would spurt into the sky devouring the whole island. The raw energy seeped into his being. As he grew stronger his awareness exulted in the feeling of power. He twisted and turned through the tunnels created by the latent steams of lava, it was just too tempting. Besides, that man had seen far too much.
Floating towards the nearest tectonic plate he began to push. Cracks began to appear and the hot magma bubbled. He pushed harder. Suddenly there was a resounding crack and the crust covering the top collapsed. With a rush, the red fiery mixture of molten gas and rocks, kept in for hundreds of years, leapt into the air to form a black cloud of ash high above the island of Vulcano.
Fully charged and aware the volcano could not hurt him, Adramelech melted into steam. He rode the current into the cloud and floated above it. The cloud was expanding rapidly; it was beginning to collapse under its own weight. To Adramelech’s amusement he saw the tourist running down the volcanic face. The man was overweight and gasping for breath. There was no way he would be able to outrun the flow of fire and lava.
Hot red stones fell, forcing the man to change his course continually. Thick lava spilled over the edge of the crater, pouring faster and faster as the extra weight pushed it along. The man craned his neck and saw it gathering speed. Panicked, he tried to run faster but tripped over an abandoned drinks-can. He fell heavily to his knees. He just had time to scream once before the lava overtook him - erasing all trace of his body.
Floating above the cloud, Adramelech felt the compulsion tighten around his consciousness. He remembered why he was here - the boy. He had to find that boy. Reaching out with his awareness, he searched for the recent use of the spirit element. There was none but a small trace to the west suggested there had been a few days ago. Recalling one of the forms he had chosen in the
That was until news reached the Atlanteans. They were a clever people. They’d hidden their city under water so he hadn’t known of their existence until it was too late. They’d captured him surprisingly easily. The Atlanteans knew there was nothing on Earth that could hold him for long, so they had summarily banished him. One minute he was at the head of an army, weapon in hand, rallying his men. Their answering shouts instilling glorious fear in the enemy. The next, nothingness, he was between worlds. Of course he tried to get back. Earth had easy pickings for a creature like him, but they sent him too far away - he couldn’t get his bearings.
Luckily, or not so luckily as it turned out, he had managed to get home. When his people found out what he had done, they banished him as well, but this time it was done properly.
Adramelech mentally thanked Aras. If he couldn’t defeat the boy-king, which was frankly ludicrous, he would find a way to break the compulsion and just take over this world. They may not be as primitive as when he was last here but they hadn’t met anything like him for a thousand years.
His thoughts returning to the present day, Adramelech stood surveying the edge of the crater. Sulfuric steam belched from underground - a perfect way in.
The tourist finishing his photo of the village moved his camera around the rim of the crater. He wanted to get a panoramic of the sea next. The tripod juddered as it scraped against volcanic rock. The picture blurred as he focused the lens. Tapping it he saw Adramelech through the viewfinder. He blinked. He hadn’t been there moments before. He blinked again. The man was melting?
As he watched, Adramelech let his true form burn the veneer he’d created. Giving a wave to the nonplussed visitor, he jumped into the vent.
Oh, he’d missed this. He plunged deep into the core. The heat was glorious. One little push here and the whole volcano would spurt into the sky devouring the whole island. The raw energy seeped into his being. As he grew stronger his awareness exulted in the feeling of power. He twisted and turned through the tunnels created by the latent steams of lava, it was just too tempting. Besides, that man had seen far too much.
Floating towards the nearest tectonic plate he began to push. Cracks began to appear and the hot magma bubbled. He pushed harder. Suddenly there was a resounding crack and the crust covering the top collapsed. With a rush, the red fiery mixture of molten gas and rocks, kept in for hundreds of years, leapt into the air to form a black cloud of ash high above the island of Vulcano.
Fully charged and aware the volcano could not hurt him, Adramelech melted into steam. He rode the current into the cloud and floated above it. The cloud was expanding rapidly; it was beginning to collapse under its own weight. To Adramelech’s amusement he saw the tourist running down the volcanic face. The man was overweight and gasping for breath. There was no way he would be able to outrun the flow of fire and lava.
Hot red stones fell, forcing the man to change his course continually. Thick lava spilled over the edge of the crater, pouring faster and faster as the extra weight pushed it along. The man craned his neck and saw it gathering speed. Panicked, he tried to run faster but tripped over an abandoned drinks-can. He fell heavily to his knees. He just had time to scream once before the lava overtook him - erasing all trace of his body.
Floating above the cloud, Adramelech felt the compulsion tighten around his consciousness. He remembered why he was here - the boy. He had to find that boy. Reaching out with his awareness, he searched for the recent use of the spirit element. There was none but a small trace to the west suggested there had been a few days ago. Recalling one of the forms he had chosen in the
Similar Books
