Page 96 of King

“Give it a second,” Kane’s voice rumbled beside him. “First time being transported is a bitch, but you get used to it.”

King let out a low growl, his vision still hazy. “If you say so.” He focused, his breath catching as he took in their surroundings. If he had to think what Hell was like, this was it minus the fire and brimstone. There was a feeling about the place, and it wasn’t a good feeling.

The air was thick with a red haze, the fog rolling low around his boots like living tendrils. The trees stood dead like twisted skeletons reaching for the sky. But they weren’t just dead. It felt like they were watching them. The feeling slithered down his spine, a sickening sensation of being observed by something... unseen.

A black-and-white photograph flashed through his mind—one Amara had taken, old and eerie. This place felt like stepping into that picture.

“Dead walkers to our left.” Creed’s voice cut through the fog of his mind.

King turned, his body shifting into battle mode as Raven and Charger stepped beside him.

“Ryker, King’s going to need a sword.” Raven’s voice was sharp.

Before King could blink, weight settled into his palm. He glanced down to see a sword in his fist. There was no flash of movement. No hands passing it off. His hand was empty one second, and cold steel rested against his palm the next.

His fingers curled around the hilt, the balance perfect. The weapon was an extension of himself, the weight familiar despite his never having touched it before.

“Damn.” He shifted the sword from hand to hand, testing its feel. The blade whispered through the thick air, slicing effortlessly as if it belonged there. “Guess it pays to have a Warlock on the team.”

What Creed had called Dead Walkers stalked closer, one leading the pack. Daniel began to walk as they all followed. The leader stopped in front of Daniel.

“What do you want, Demon Slayer?” It talked in a toneless guttural voice, saliva dripping from his mouth that was full of sharp teeth.

“Watch their teeth,” Raven whispered to King. “Their salvia burns like fire.”

“Nothing you can help me with,” Daniel said, throwing his arm out, and every walker dropped to the ground.

King’s eyes widened at the sight. Daniel looked over his shoulder at them. “Guess they aren’t on the Golden Blood yet,” Daniel smirked with a shrug, then continued to move.

“Does he really need us?” Steve asked, coming up beside them. “This fucking place gives me the creeps and makes me have to shit every single time I’m down here.”

He had to agree with Steve, well, not about the shitting part. This place was creepy as fuck, and what Daniel just did was pretty fucking impressive.

“Steve, why are you always talking about shit?” Raven asked, then cursed. “Patrollers up ahead.”

King narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of the monstrous things watching them. They were huge—easily three hundred pounds of pure nightmare fuel. Their bodies were covered in jagged, sharp barbs, their hands horn-shaped with razor-like claws that gleamed even in the dim light. But it was their eyes that put King on edge. Shifty. Calculating. Predatory. There were at least twenty of them. Maybe more. Their barbed tails slammed against the ground, sending up small dust clouds as they watched the group pass.

King tightened his grip on his sword, ready for the first one that dared to make a move. They didn’t.

Yet.

“Ugly fuckers, aren’t they?” Kane muttered, smirking at one that stared too damn long.

“What the fuck are they?” King asked, his voice low. One of the creatures jerked toward him, a quick, menacing movement meant to intimidate. King didn’t even flinch. Fuck that thing. If it so much as breathed wrong, he’d cut its head clean off.

“Hamatulas,” Kane answered as they moved past. “Patrollers of the Underground.”

King’s gaze followed the creatures warily.

“Their claws are razor sharp,” Kane added, voice grim. “One swipe will slice you clean in half.”

“Good to fucking know.” King exhaled, keeping his sword at the ready. His senses were screaming at him, his gut twisting with unease. Something felt off. “Does it feel like we’re walking into a trap?”

Creed chuckled, as did Raven.

"Down here, you're always walking into a trap," Creed said, stopping in front of a run-down building.

King barely heard him. His focus was on the half-dressed women lounging around, their dark, hungry eyes crawling over him and the other men like they were a fresh meal.

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