Hell Town a serial by Martin Slusser

Janissary Project: Book VIII. It was getting hard to tell the difference between the nightmares as he slept and real life, but Benny Grey always seemed.

Spring was coming - Crawling into a damp leafy nest under the trees, Benny put his hands behind his head. Nina was wonderful, but she was in danger, and it was his fault.

Die and you’ll live - Long, slender hands moved up, sliding behind her neck to lift a cloud of thick black hair that was heavy with the damp that chilled the barren room. Cascading over her arms the curls seemed to have a life of their own.

It just seems so right - The bulb flickered and hissed, casting shadows through Sue’s room. A rag of a curtain hung over a window that was more cardboard than glass. Light glittered on the ice forming under the window.

Friggin ghoul - Let me die, Benny whispered into the darkness of her soul. Let me go, Sue.

My soul is safe enough - Sue giggled softly and popped a gum bubble in the boy’s ear. His hand slid over her breasts, then down to the snap on her skirt. He eased her back onto a stack of damp cardboard but she wiggled and pushed. Les tried to hold her down and she bit his ear.

Bye, Papa Bear - Benny slammed into the trees and screamed. Flames ate at his skin and clothes. Benny rolled off a trunk, dropping to the swampy ground.

All hail the New Messiah - A demon grinned in Sue’s dark nightmares. It stalked her, reaching clawed hands for her, and she whimpered.

There was a shriek - The harvester, Jason, glanced back. In the night-vision goggles he saw a flicker of purple light. Three flashes and a long. He signaled in return before slipping the goggles into a jacket pocket and flipping the badge over the breast pocket. Jason scowled. It was supposed to be hanging from the front of the belt, but there was new brass in the upper offices.

It’s Sue Hannah - Howling in pain, one lunged for the child, but she slipped away, twisting and dodging as he chased her.

AWOL - Benny rolled out of his body to drop to the floor. He snapped out twenty pushups on the fingertips of his right hand, then bounced to the left and repeated it. He hopped to his feet to grin at the lady therapist, reaching for her.

Black, unsweetened - As Sue moved to her, she made a small curtsey and held the chair. Sue sat down shivering, but the leather was warmed by an inner element and conformed to her shape.

Run, you fool - The Man, Lord Penn, entered the bedroom. Where before he walked free and innocent of clothing, now he was dressed. The business suit was brown silk, the tie a dark gold. On the big feet were the finest shoes made by Spanish craftsmen and their owners. A single gold ring shown on one finger.

Dry heaves - Mrs. Penn sat to tea with several people from the warrens and slums around her ‘palace.’ She poured while listening to their troubles.

Military boots? - Sue shivered and tried to step away, but he owned her. Her master had arrived, and she trembled at the marble-cold touch and the reek of too much cologne.

No more hope - Sue was hanging on the tourist and laughing at his jokes. For a man that drunk, he was steady enough. Maybe too steady. She let the smile slip away. He was cold. It radiated from him in waves marked by lust and the smell of mushrooms.