Читать книгу Devil's Vortex - James Axler - Страница 3

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Krysty saw blackness gather above the fallen girl

She couldn’t say where it came from. But it seemed almost as if it were being drawn out of Mariah. Like all the blackness in her tortured young soul.

Krysty wondered if her adrenaline-pumped mind was playing tricks on her, but the orange-haired coldheart standing nearby was clearly seeing it, too. She gave a strangled cry of fear, stumbling back a step. She raised her longblaster as if to ward it off.

The blackness was unquestionably spinning, though Krysty would be hard-pressed to say how she knew that. It began to drift away from Mariah toward the woman who had clubbed her down.

“Get away!” the coldheart yelled. “Back off.”

The cloud seemed to whirl faster. The woman jabbed at it with her rifle butt.

The stock sank into the cloud. And was suddenly yanked into it. The butt shattered, pieces whirling briefly in the cloud before seeming to dissolve.

The coldheart let go of the weapon. But not before her right hand was drawn into the whirlwind of shadow. She screamed.

Krysty saw blood spray, caught in the cloud like water swirling down a drain, and pink shreds of skin. The blackness sucked the coldheart woman in, tore her to pieces and consumed the fragments.

Devil's Vortex

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