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

as holding a slight margin of plausibility. He might die in the attempt,
but he knew he would not submit without a final bloody struggle. It was
not a foolproof plan, yet it built up a store of renewed vortexed energy in
his overwroughtsoul, though he might perish in the execution of the escape,
he would still be escaping the life of infinite torture in store forhim.
Either way he would still cheat the gloating prince of the succored revenge
his sadistic mind craved so dearly.
The guards would soon come to bear him off to the prince's buried
mines of dread, giving him the sought after opportunity to execute his
newly formulated plan. Groping his way along the rough floor Grignr
finally found his tool in a pool of congealed gore; the carcass of the
decapitated rodent; the tool that the very filth he had been sentenced too,
spawned. When the time came for action he would have to be prepared, so he
set himself to rending the sticky hulk in grim silence, searching by the
touch of his fingertips for the lever to freedom.

-5-

"Up to the altar and be done with it wench;" ordered a fidgeting
shaman as he gave the female a grim stare accompanied by the wrinkling of
his lips to a mirthful grin of delight.
The girl burst into a slow steady whimper, stooping shakily to her
knees and cringing woefully from the priest with both arms wound snake-like
around the bulging jade jade shin rising before her scantily attired
figure. Her face was redly inflamed from the salty flow of tears spouting
from her glassy dilated eyeballs.
With short, heavy footfals the priest approached the female, his
piercing stare never wavering from her quivering young countenance.
Halting before the terrified girl he projected his arm outward and motioned
her to arise with an upward movement of his hand. the girl's whimpering
increased slightly and she sunk closer to the floor rather than arising.
The flickering torches outlined her trim build with a weird ornate glow as
it cast a ghostly shadow dancing in horrid waves of splendor over smoothly
worn whiteness of the marble hewn altar.
The shaman's lips curled back farther, exposing a set of blackened,
decaying molars which transformed his slovenly grin into a wide greasy arc
of sadistic mirth and alternately interposed into the female a strong
sensation of stomach curdling nausea. "Have it as you will female;"
gloated the enhanced priest as he bent over at the waist, projecting his
ape-like arms forward, and clasped the female's slender arms with his hairy
round fists. With an inward surge of of his biceps he harshly jerked the
trembling girl to her feet and smothered her salty wet cheeks with the
moldy touch of his decrepid, dull red lips.
The vile stench of the Shaman's hot fetid breath over came the
nauseated female with a deep soul searing sickness, causing her to wrench
her head backwards and regurgitate a slimy, orange- white stream of
swelling gore over the richly woven purple robe of the enthused acolyte.
The priest's lips trembled with a malicious rage as he removed his
callous paws from the girl's arms and replaced them with tightly around her
undulating neck, shaking her violently to and fro.