The Soul Eaters (The Thin Hex Line Book 1) by Gwyndolyn Russell (e reader txt) 📕

"Why though?"

"This is his home."

"What?!"

Air rushed in through vents at the ceiling. After a minute, one light lit green. The rest still flashed red.

Ruby hit a button on the console. The door opened.

Fenris rushed through as soon as it could fit.

The base was larger than they thought. The next room appeared like a lobby. Benches, couches, chairs, tables. Plants and decorative rails and pictures. Just about the same size as the airlock. A check in desk at the farthest wall which guarded four separate doors, marked alphabetically.

Everything was flipped over, destroyed. Bodies of civilians laid in pools of blood. Door B was busted open, ripped off its hinges. Crumpled up like paper, it lay in the hall. The other doors required key cards to access.

They took their helmets off, attaching them to their waists. There was no point in wasting oxygen. The air here was safe, but it might not be elsewhere.

Fenris sniffed at the air, pacing in a short circle.

"Why would anyone attack this place? It looks like a lab." Sparrow asked.

No one gave her an answer.

Fenris howled, making them reel back. Its hollow song pierced right through their ears. Shook the plants around them. Chilled their bones. When it finished, it stood in silence.

The others looked at each other for any explanation.

Silence. No one moved for a whole minute.

Something bellowed back. A shrieking bugle sounded off from somewhere deeper in the base, though it ended as soon as it began. Fenris looked to one of the shut doors, a tilt to its head.

"Hey!" Called another voice from far away. "Help!"

Its head turned to the open hall.

They rushed through the doorway with Fenris leading the way.

Several doors down the hall had been kicked open. Ripped in half. Busted from the hinges. People in white coats had been caught running away. Holes had been torn open in their backs, either by knives, or by bullets. They barely had time to examine the corpses. Fenris was on a mission.

"Your girlfriend is fucked." Jackal said as they stepped over two bodies laid out over one another.

"I'm sure she had a good reason to attack."

"Maybe we need an anti-alpha weapon."

"Down here!" The voice called.

Fenris turned into the next open door, stopping abruptly. The floor had caved in, lockers and benches collapsed to the floor below.

"Hey!" The voice called from below. A black and blue metallic hand waved from the debris.

Jackal stood on the edge trying to figure out a way down without hurting the man under all the rubble.

"Mjolnir, think we're gonna need you again."

"Don't have to tell me twice. Let us do all the heavy lifting." Mjolnir grinned.

He and Fenris both jumped down. The others took a safer way, sliding down the rubble.

"Damn." The man coughed. His helmet's visor was shattered, a shard from it lodged in his brow. He was covered in white dust, the blue of his armor barely visible.

"I thought I recognized that howl." He smiled, looking up to Fenris.

The valkyrie sniffed at his face.

"Eight."

"Yeah, you remember me!" He coughed again. "I'd get out on my own, but those fuckers...disabled my armor. I can't move."

Mjolnir was already picking up large chunks of floor off the pile directly over the man.

Fenris helped as well while the others checked around the area.

"Don't worry," Eight called to them. "Those three bastards left a long time ago."

"How long have you been here?" Reaper asked standing over him.

"What day is it?"

Reynolds tapped on her arm for her display. "Monday, the fifteenth."

"Thursday." He groaned. "I don't think anyone else can hear me if they're even still alive."

With enough of the debris removed, Fenris grabbed him by the strap on his shoulder and pulled. The armor and man both must have weighed nearly a ton, yet Fenris pulled him up to his feet with little effort. It sat him down upon the floor. Reynolds knelt down at his side to check his wounds.

"Man, you've grown." Eight laughed, looking up at Fenris. "I remember when you were just a little pip squeak! You look pretty different, too." He didn’t seem concerned at all about the situation at hand.

"Eight is old."

He coughed. "Hey, that's rude! I'm still kicking."

"So, you're an Alpha?" Reaper asked, noticing the large screaming demon skull painted on the chest of the armor.

"Yeah. I got stationed here about thirty years ago. Just a handful of us to make sure the staff is protected."

“Thirty years? You really must be an old Alpha to be here that long.”

“I guess in Alpha years. Naw, it’s pretty normal. We’ve all been here that long.”

"Awfully calm for nearly dying." Jackal raised a brow.

"No sense in worrying about the inevitable." He smiled. "Had a better life than most of my brothers out there. Got it kind of luxurious right here. Look, I've had an itch the last day I cannot fucking scratch. Can you get this shit open?"

"Did they let you live because you were an Alpha?" Reaper asked.

Jackal stepped around to his back for the lever.

"Fuck no! The floor caved in. I got knocked out. They must have thought I was dead. We weren't ready for that kind of attack. No one even knows this place exists. Thirty years and not even a pen has been stolen. We got complacent." His eyes dropped down. “Dumb mistake. Knew those bastards were targeting any Apex base they could find. Just a matter of fuckin’ time till they showed up.”

Jackal pulled and twisted the lever. Air rushed out of the valves. The suit unfolded, revealing a dark skinned man wearing only a pair of pants and boots. The same screaming demon skull tattooed over a branding on his upper arm.

He pulled himself out, stretching all the while. He appeared he spent most of his free time at the gym.

"Woo!" He cheered. "Man that feels good! Thought that was gonna be my coffin." He scratched his rear.

"Are you injured?" Reynolds asked.

"Naw, pretty lady. Armor took everything." He stretched his arms. "All right, heroes, let's go. I reckon any survivors