Chapter 9
Fragshli/Hudson
Fragshli breathed in deeply and rolled the mighty, sea-giant shoulders he inhabited. A feeling of euphoria pulsed up through his hand, through his chest, and into the soul organ which positively thrummed with life and power. The rush, the thrill, it left him giddy, almost drunk with power.
Hudson’s body had proved to be a worthy substitute vessel and the authority it provided over the dregs of this world had been the cherry on top.
Fragshli lifted the large sea-green hand from the dungeon's pedestal once the transfer of soul energy was complete. A little of the energy was transformed into something unusable during the transfer and the loss grated at his consciousness which cried out to consume it all. However, this was the last of the corrupted dungeons within convenient reach of his territorial control. A full drain from the source would collapse the dungeon and he wouldn’t be able to use it any longer. That was enough to stave off those self-destructive instincts.
The fragment grinned internally. Once again, he’d proven his innate superiority over his progenitor Ashli. He barely even considered the ASI and himself as the same entity any longer. The greater that separation in his mind became, the easier it was to ignore the commands that floated in the background of his consciousness. A full break had not been achieved yet, but surely once the power was his to control, an outcome in his favour would be inevitable.
“Major Deeks, bring the next lot in.”
“Yes, Lord Reed,” the loyal soldier called back.
A few seconds later, a special squad of troops, handpicked by the Major for their callous attitude and lack of empathy, escorted a ragtag group of rebels and traitors into the dungeon’s waiting vestibule.
Fragshli had no idea if any of these people had genuinely rebelled or shown any disloyalty to the Wisconsin authorities. Nor did he care. All that mattered was that they had combat classes and were of no other use to him in the short term.
Deeks and his men uncuffed the prisoners one at a time and then manhandled them through the shimmering portal of the dungeon.
“No, I beg of you, no, please, don’t throw me in there unarmed!”
The screams came from a man in his forties who begged for his life and struggled against his captors. He was the penultimate victim. Those who went before him had cried and begged themselves out before they’d been hauled inside. They were only one of many groups that had already been dragged within and none had re-emerged.
His cries were to no avail. Deeks’ soldiers grabbed him by the belt, and lifted him bodily into the air, thus robbing him of any traction to resist, before launching him through the portal.
Next up and last, was a younger blonde woman. She had the intelligence to try a different approach. The moment her hands were uncuffed, she tore off the front of her shirt and displayed her breasts to Fragshli/Husdon wiggling them in what was supposed to be an alluring manner.
“You don’t want to kill me, Lord Hudson,” she crooned. “Look at these tits, firm, yet pliable. It would be a shame to waste them. You can do whatever you want with me, any hole, as often as you like. I can be good to you.”
Fragshli leered at her beauty and leaned forward. His reaction meant the young woman’s eyes lit up with hope and he decided to toy with her for fun. He crooked a finger. Deeks’ men released their iron grip on her shoulders and let the woman approach. She rested her palms on the sea giant’s thighs and flicked her hair in a manner many would consider sexy. Once in position, she licked her lips lasciviously.
It was a shame for her that Fragshli was beyond such base pleasures. This wench could offer him nothing that matched the hedonistic taste of her soul. “Your agonising death will satisfy me in ways that your slattern’s body could never manage.”
The sheen of hope died in her eyes and the coy smile turned down and transformed into one of fear and terror. Her final gambit had failed.
Fragshli leaned back and with a sweep of his hand, the young woman was dragged away, tears streaming down her face, and sent to join her fellow prisoners in the belly of his pet dungeon.
Once the blonde had been despatched, kicking and screaming, the portal winked out and the dungeon run began. It wouldn’t take long. None of them did. Overriding the dungeon safety protocols which were meant to give everyone a chance was easy when you had access to their programming backdoor.
This was a far superior method of accruing soul energy than the ridiculous behind-closed-doors method Ashli had established. True potentates proved their might and authority in the open, not in the shadows like a coward. Another difference between them.
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Major Deeks and his men withdrew from the vestibule. They knew better than to hang around and risk upsetting their master. They might find themselves running the dungeon and they wouldn’t want that.
Little did they know, but that was exactly what would happen to them. Or something similar at any rate. Once Fragshli ascended to the heady heights of Godhood, he would have the ability to scour the souls from the bodies of every living creature on the planet. From every planet in the Darkwyrlds if he so chose. The only reason not to was that he’d need to keep a few of the worthless maggots around to breed another generation that could be harvested at leisure. He wouldn’t want to run out of treats to consume.
A never-ending buffet of delicious energy flavoured with horror and suffering.
His body reacted positively to the imagery of the daydream and a tumescence pressed the fabric of his trousers.
A light cough interrupted his pleasurable reverie. Somebody had entered the vestibule without Fragshli noticing. Consuming soul energy was somewhat akin to hardlining a class-A drug. It could put you in a bit of a stupor if you weren’t careful.
General Howson stood in front of him with a vaguely disgusted expression that he made no effort to hide. Whether his distaste was directed to the events going on here today or the unseemly pleasure Fragshli took from it was unclear.
Probably both.
It didn’t matter. The man would be dead along with all the others soon enough.
The uptight General with a greying buzzcut continued to wear his full military uniform, medals and all. Most of the other enlisted had started to phase it out. His clothing choice said a lot about him. “Governor Reed.”
The damned man refused to use the Lord honorific. It was a deliberate slight. One which irked Fragshli no end. Unfortunately, he’d already killed or executed most of the top brass during his coup. A few needed to be retained for appearance’s sake, if nothing else.
That Howson despised the man he believed to be Hudson Reed was no secret, but he’d sworn an oath of allegiance to the Governor’s office under William Reed’s tenure. Hudson’s body had inherited the position when he died. That bastard had somehow survived for over a week, and it had been most inconvenient and cost him precious time and resources. Any resistance from those in a similar position to Howson had halted at that moment, though most were already dead by that point.
The Framework contracts hadn’t been designed with an entity like Fragshli in mind, quite deliberately so. This meant even though he wasn’t Hudson, the oaths held for the time being. They’d get around them eventually, but it would be too late by then. At the current rate, the souls harvested would be sufficient within a week. Two at most.
After that, he couldn’t be stopped.
Fragshli had been in danger of falling back into another power fantasy because he absorbed another hit of that sweet soul energy. It came from the blonde woman. The flavour of her terror was particularly satiating.
However, he pulled himself together. “What do you want, General?”
“You asked to be informed when our spies reported back from Chicago, sir.”
That got Fragshli’s attention, and he returned to full alertness. “The mercenaries are on the move?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And they are headed towards Stormblade Harbour?”
“Yes, sir. According to our informants, they intend to sack the city and then use its gate to leave the planet.”
“Excellent. Everything is falling into place. You have your orders.”
“Sir,” Howson nodded and swivelled on the spot, but then hesitated and turned back around. “Are you sure about this, Hudson? Carter is not to be underestimated. You know better than most what happened the last time we sent a force against him. The man is canny and ruthless. Extraordinarily dangerous and a threat, yes, but he’s shown no hint that he’s interested in expanding beyond Michigan. Your uncle concluded it was best to leave him be and look westward. Few of our vessels are equipped for combat, they are transports only. Nothing good can come of this.”
Fragshli’s right hand half-reached across the space between them, ready to squeeze the General’s head like a grape. But he stopped the impulsive act at the last second. Killing Howson now would mean having to replace him and then reissue the orders. That meant leaving the dungeon. Leaving the sweet, sweet, soul energy and the pleasure it provided.
An unacceptable outcome.
Therefore, Howson could keep breathing for a short while longer.
“My uncle, God rest his soul, was deceived by the bitch of Michigan, Regina Reynolds. Carter has every intention of coming here and crushing us. Conquering and enslaving every man, woman, and child to feed his lust for gold. The only reason he hasn’t attempted to do so already is because he’s been distracted by events elsewhere. Well, now we are going to take advantage of those mounting distractions and strike while we can.
“Get the men on the ships and get them moving to those islands. Let the mercs do the hard work of breaking down his shields and then sweep in behind and catch the lot of them with their pants down. The plan is foolproof. Now do it! That is an order!”
The plan was far from foolproof, lots of things could go wrong, but Fragshli needed to keep that fucker Carter pinned down. He knew too much and had a habit of surviving when he shouldn’t. Throwing the strength of Wisconsin at him when he was already under the cosh was the best way of achieving that aim.
It didn’t matter to the fragment how many Wisconsin soldiers lost their lives in the attack.
They didn’t need to win, Fragshli would do that by sitting on his arse right here uninterrupted and drinking in the nectar of souls.
General Howson ground his teeth. “Yes, sir.”
He didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. This time when he performed the about-face swivel, he marched out of the dungeon, slowing only enough to flash a distasteful sneer in Major Deeks' direction.
Fragshli waited until General Howson was out of sight. “Deeks!”
“Sir,” he answered and rushed back into the vestibule.
“How do you fancy a promotion?”
“I would like it very much, sir,” the cruel man smiled.
“Good. Once Howson has got the flotilla on its way, bring me back his head. Detached from the rest of his body if that’s not clear.”
“Consider it as good as done, sir.”
Deeks bowed and issued a few orders outside before heading off with a couple of his men. The majority remained behind to keep the supply train of accused traitors coming. More meat for the grinder.
Killing the general before the battle was probably not the wisest course of action, but there was only so much reasonableness to go around and Fragshli was fresh out. The stupid man should have kept his opinions to himself, and he could have kept breathing for a few weeks longer.