Free CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN by M.Scott Verne, Wynn Wynn Mercere

  His finger was still crackling with blue energy as his driver barreled on past. Several other carts and chariots quickly went by as the way had now been opened. Ignoring the ruckus, D’Molay scrambled for his knife which he spotted lying in the street only a few feet away. He grabbed it and jumped on the creature, which had fallen on its back. Its tentacles flailed like the legs of an upended bug.
    “Who sent you?” D’Molay demanded, holding the knife at the creature’s throat as he knelt on one of its tentacles and pinned the other with his arm. “Answer!”
    After a few seconds pause it finally replied. “S-Sssssetttt.”
    D’Molay pondered this for a second. It made sense. Set was Egyptian, as was the rightful owner of the box D’Molay guarded. Perhaps Set wanted the item, though it was equally possible that this creature wanted the box for his own reasons.
    “Set hired you, did he? Why you?”
    “Alwaysss sssuccesss. I aasssssk no questionsssss.”
    “I guess you were hired just like I was,” D’Molay said begrudgingly. On some level he felt empathy for his attacker, despite or perhaps even because of its inhuman appearance. “I should kill you, but what happens if I don’t?   Will you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of and leave me be?” D’Molay pressed the knife at the creatures’ throat as it stared at him with those soulless orange eyes.
    “Leave . . . I leave . . . Yesssss,” it answered.  
    “Very well. I wasn’t planning to kill anyone today.” Withdrawing the knife from the creature, D’Molay stepped back, still wary of what it might do.
    Slowly the grey man-thing rose, then backed away, preparing to move off. It turned as if to go, then suddenly swung one of its massive tentacles right at D’Molay’s head. It connected solidly, flinging D’Molay backward. He hit hard against the horse cart, falling to the ground. With the knife he had managed to hold on to as the creature had struck, D’Molay sliced off the end of a tendril. Black liquid gushed out of the wound. Unfazed, the misshapen creature rushed him. D’Molay tasted blood in his mouth as tentacles wrapped around his neck and lifted him off the ground. His arms dangled uselessly at his sides. His knife was still in his hand, but he was unable to use it. Held by his neck, his feet hanging inches off the ground, D’Molay stared in panic at the hideous grin on the creature’s face.
    “Foolisssh. Now I crush neck . . . take box.”  
    D’Molay struggled to no avail as his face turned crimson and the creature tightened its grip. Desperately he gasped for air, but none came. His vision started to go black around the edges as though he was looking through a shrinking tunnel. As he began to lose consciousness, he managed a last attempt to break free, swinging his feet forward and getting a sideways foothold on the creature’s chest. D’Molay then brought his other leg up and sent a crushing kick into the creature’s face with his booted heel. The kick took it completely by surprise and destroyed one of its eyes, the orange orb turning into black jelly under his boot. Screaming in pain and shock, the creature released its hold on D’Molay and he dropped into the back of the cart, gasping for breath. The thing staggered backwards as it held its tentacle over the leaking wound that had once been an eye.
    D’Molay gasped for air as he lay in the cart. He could hear the creature’s continued screams and the slapping of its flailing tentacles. He knew his escape was only temporary. D’Molay managed to rise, taking a flying leap off the cart right at the creature. Holding the knife in both hands, D’Molay thrust it down into its head. It broke through his enemy’s skull like an arrow going into a watermelon. He set the knife in deeply and fell off the creature as it writhed. It staggered forward and almost ran into some onlookers as blood gushed out around the protruding knife. Within a few seconds, it was covered