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Back Monster Hunter Nemesis Save as PDF
Chapters (23)
  1. PART 1
  2. CHAPTER 1
  3. CHAPTER 2
  4. CHAPTER 3
  5. CHAPTER 4
  6. CHAPTER 5
  7. CHAPTER 6
  8. CHAPTER 7
  9. CHAPTER 8
  10. CHAPTER 9
  11. PART 2
  12. CHAPTER 10
  13. CHAPTER 11
  14. CHAPTER 12
  15. CHAPTER 13
  16. CHAPTER 14
  17. PART 3
  18. CHAPTER 15
  19. CHAPTER 16
  20. CHAPTER 17
  21. CHAPTER 18
  22. CHAPTER 19
  23. CHAPTER 20

Heather pulled herself up the wall until she was standing, and tried to get her bearings. The entire concrete room was only twenty feet across. The hatch was in the center, and from the screaming noises coming out of it, Stricken’s people were getting chewed up. There was a big bank-vault door on the far side of the room with a keypad on it. There was a boot print on her tank top. The Nemesis soldier was closing on her fast. Heather held up one hand. Her claws weren’t growing like they normally would. “Hang on . . .”

“Why should I?”

The transformation wasn’t happening as fast as it should. Enough of that toxin was still in her system that it was really screwing her up. Damn it, Stricken! That was really bad news, and an even worse time to find out. “You want a real challenge?” Heather growled. “Give me thirty seconds to get ready.”

“That sounds fair.” The woman grinned until her mouth grew so wide that it nearly split her face in half. She extended her arms wide, proudly demonstrating that each of her fingers had somehow turned into a tentacle ending in a needle-sharp spike. “I’ll give you time if you grant me the same courtesy,” she said, only now her words were hard to understand, what with those things that looked like crab legs splitting through her cheeks.

I hate my job.

Heather flung herself at the monster.

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

Pennsylvania Colony, 1775

Consciousness returned quickly. A surgery had been performed. The work was crude and extremely painful, but his lungs were drawing in air and his heart was beating.

“Well, then, I see that our undying Hessian is awake.” A fat old man was sitting on a stool next to his bed. He adjusted his glasses as he studied Franks’ wounds. “That is a rather remarkable feat considering you had a wound to your abdomen sufficient to see daylight through. General Washington said you spoke English. Is this so?”

“Yes,” Franks croaked. Human languages were easy to master compared to the old tongue. “Where am I?”

“Most of you is present here in my laboratory in Philadelphia, however I regret to inform you that much of the rest of you is spread across a field in Virginia. Traditionally, when a man’s body is forcibly removed from the waist down by a cannonball, they have the decency to perish in a timely manner. To do otherwise tends to frighten the women and the livestock.”

“I’m not meant to die yet.”