"Jim Theis - The Eye of Argon (2)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Theis Jim)

The girl gasped a tortured groan from her clamped lungs, her sea blue
eyes bulging forth from damp sockets. Cocking her right foot backwards,
she leashed it desperately outwards with the strength of a demon possessed,
lodging her sandled foot squarely between the shaman's testicles.
The startled priest released his crushing grip, crimping his body over
at the waist overlooking his recessed belly; wide open in a deep chasim.
His face flushed to a rose red shade of crimson, eyelids fluttering wide
with eyeballs protruding blindly outwards from their sockets to their
outmost perimeters, while his lips quivered wildly about allowing an
agonized wallow to gust forth as his breath billowed from burning lungs.
His hands reached out clutching his urinary gland as his knees wobbled
rapidly about for a few seconds then buckled, causing the ruptured shaman
to collapse in an egg huddled mass to the granite pavement, rolling
helplessly about in his agony.
The pathetic screeches of the shaman groveling in dejected misery upon
the hand hewn granite laid pavement, worn smooth by countless hours of
arduous sweat and toil, a welter of ichor oozing through his clenched
hands, attracted the purturbed attention of his comrades from their foetid
ulations. The actions of this this rebellious wench bespoke the creedence
of an unheard of sacrilige. Never before in a lost maze of untold eons had
a chosen one dared to demonstrate such blasphemy in the face of the cult's
idolic diety.
The girl cowered in unreasoning terror, helpless in the face of the
emblazoned acolytes' rage; her orchid tusseled face smothered betwixt her
bulging bosom as she shut her curled lashed tightly hoping to open them and
find herself awakening from a morbid nightmare. yet the hand of destiny
decreed her no such mercy, the antagonized pack of leering shaman
converging tensely upon her prostrate form were entangled all too lividly
in the grim web of reality.
Shuddering from the clamy touch of the shaman as they grappled with
her supple form, hands wrenching at her slender arms and legs in all
directions, her bare body being molested in the midst of a labyrnth of
orange smudges, purpled satin, and mangled skulls, shadowed in an eerie
crimson glow; her confused head reeled then clouded in a mist of
enshrouding ebony as she lapsed beneath the protective sheet of
unconsiousness to a land peach and resign.

-6-

"Take hold of this rope," said the first soldier, "and climb out from
your pit, slut. Your presence is requested in another far deeper hell
hole."
Grignr slipped his right hand to his thigh, concealing a small opaque
object beneath the folds of the g-string wrapped about his waist. Brine
wells swelled in Grignr's cold, jade squinting eyes, which grown accustomed
to the gloom of the stygian pools of ebony engulfing him, were bedazzled
and blinded by flickerering radiance cast forth by the second soldiers's
resin torch.
Tightly gripped in the second soldier's right hand, opposite the
intermittent torch, was a large double edged axe, a long leather wound