Dagger 5 - The Darkness at the Beginning of the World by Walt Popester

Dagger 5

Dagger 5 - the darkness at the beginning of the world

Shhh.
Are you ready for the final show?
Then follow me. If you really want to know how deep is the monster's lair.

Genre: FICTION / Fantasy / Dark Fantasy

Secondary Genre: FICTION / Horror

Language: English

Keywords: dark fantasy, horror

Word Count: 114121

Sample text:

The day ended for many when night started for one.

Baikal was spat in the world at the dawn of the red moon. His naked body rolled in the secretions, stopping on his side.

A quiet silence followed, in which nothing seemed to move except for the sand slipping from his hands, the sterile nothingness which had tried to make its way into him. The white tentacles left him flowing sinuously toward the hole in the desert from which he was born again. Is this deliverance? he wondered. Is this the end?

A warm wind reached him from the depths of the abyss. The voice rose within him, This is nothing but the beginning, Baikal, son of Exodus. Why do you oppose? Stop fighting.

He saw in his head the immense profile of the crab as he had seen it all along that nightmare in green and red: Hanoi, son of the shadows that stood out around him.

No. Baikal crawled on his back.

You can not go back now.

I will never be your servant!

A slimy root held his ankle. The memory of your father chased you in here too, didn’t it? There was something firm, but kind, in the voice. And it made you so strong that you could resist me. It doesn’t matter. You’ll come back to me because so it is written. As the last white tentacle disappeared in the sand, Hanoi said, When you’ll be alone and desperate against everyone, you will look for my power again. And I will wait for you, Baikal. You’re already in here, only you don’t know it yet.

Nothing was left of the nightmare, but Baikal didn’t think for a moment that it had really abandoned him.

Far away, in all directions, stretched the level desert silent in the red light. Very faintly he looked up. On the far horizon to the south, mountain ranges were painted in amethyst.

Home, he thought.

His feet sank and dragged forward, repeatedly, to the rhythm of the fierce beat in his chest.


Book translation status:

The book is available for translation into any language except those listed below:

LanguageStatus
Portuguese
Already translated. Translated by Giovani Fatobeni
Spanish
Translation in progress. Translated by Veronica Vergara

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