By Owen Quinn author of the Time Warriors and Zombie Blues
When Varran offers to help with an alien colony in need, Jacke is struck by crippling nightmares. Something is wrong and the deed of a Good Samaritan may be the cause of the Time Warriors’ destruction. Who are the angels? What is Veloris hiding? What links Jacke to an alien world?
SOUL SCREAM PART 1
The corridor closed in around her as she fled barefoot down the riveted metal floor. She could hear it breathing, its stench that of rotting meat.
Her white nightdress clung to her figure. It was hot, the treacle air clawing at her, making her sweat profusely. Yet she could see her breath fogging as if she were running on a winter’s morning.
It was close behind and she felt the ceiling pressing down.
The corridor was long, a dull grey colour with sickly jaundice light from the inbuilt overhead junctions. The hexagonal shape reminded her of a bee hive. Always had but the Juggernaught had been built by the military for war. A hive mind at best.
Soothing the senses was not a high priority. The heavy bulkhead door reared before her like a metal sentry. She screamed in frustration as she slapped the controls on the left side but although the light turned green, it refused to budge as if it was working with the thing pursuing her.
It couldn’t be seen yet but its presence carved the air with a deep dread. Its evil seeped up through the very pores of the station as it sought out its prey, without remorse, without conscience. A thick fog oozed into the passage as the temperature rose, sweat blinding her.
Its breathing intensified, calling her by name now.
She screamed at it to go away but it gurgled mockingly, telling her to be afraid as it tasted her fear and drank it like water. It would take great pleasure in ripping her flesh and gnawing on her bones.
She could feel the darkness surge closer as the light dipped to a deep red. The fog thickened, dragging at her bare feet as the heat increased with the hissing.
It grated her ear drums and crept into her mind through every pore. It was close, getting closer. She threw herself back against the wall. She’d face it head on, knowing there was no chance of surviving. Better that than running forever. Her hair stuck to her face as she blindly wiped it back. She felt something warm and sticky on her hands.
Jumping, she looked at them in the hazy mist filled light and saw blood running like a tap down her arms. She screamed as the bulk head door exploded into a million molten flaming shards and the thing roared in excitement.
It was seven feet tall, draped in a hooded black gown, torn and splattered with bits of flesh and blood. Its face was in blackness but she could glimpse the flash of fangs curled back in a sadistic grin.
Long, slender hands covered in pale flaky parchment skin flexed slivery talons as she fell to her knees, covered in blood and sweat.
There was no escape.
The air screamed, the walls flowed with blood and the thing raised its arms triumphantly. It threw back its cowl and opened a maw filled with dagger fangs, ready to tear her apart. It leapt….
And Jacke jumped straight up in bed with a scream sweating. Her chest heaved fearfully. Her eyes darted round her dimly lit room checking for monsters. There were none. Lying back down, she pulled the lilac quilt tightly round her shaking body, frightened tears running onto her pillow.
Get your copy today and read the rest of this thrilling adventure here in The Time Warriors The Voalox Horror https://www.amazon.co.uk/Time-Warriors-Voalox-Horror/dp/1461154502/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=owen+quinn+the+voalox+horror+time+warriors&qid=1610488316&sr=8-1