Restart Again: Volume 1 by Adam Scott (motivational books for women TXT) 📗

against the far wall in a disheveled pile, moved hastily out of the way for what looked like a new addition to the room: A single bed frame with a well-used mattress. Ropes were tied to each post, currently sitting piled in the center.

Initially, I had planned to enter with some quippy line about a lovely reunion, but my jaw was clenched so tightly shut with rage I could hardly breathe. It was all true. I was right. The thought echoed around my otherwise blank mind, stunned by the scene before me. My stomach turned in disgust at the idea of what they had planned to do.

“Who the fuck are you?” The tall man asked, standing. The rest of the men followed suit, reaching for various weapons on their belts or on side tables. I was about to take a step forward when I felt Lia brush up behind me, peeking out around my shoulder. The fat man, positioned beside his partner, raised his eyebrows in surprise. “He’s got the girl, Jack.”

The tall man, apparently named Jack, rolled his eyes. “Oh, does he, Porks? I appreciate the update; I wouldn’t have known.” His words dripped with venom, but Porks seemed oblivious, just nodding his head. Jack turned back to me. “I’m not sure who you’re supposed to be, but if you hand us the girl, we’ll let you go last.” Two men at the front of the table laughed in unison. They looked like a mirror image of one another, aside from a large scar running across the right man’s forehead.

I felt a small hand on my back as Lia’s hair brushed over my shoulder. “That’s them,” She whispered in my ear. “That’s all of them.” My body was taut as a drawn bowstring, but I managed a nod. Every muscle burned with pent up energy, and my blood was boiling with fury. Lia retreated a step, and I heard the door creak closed behind me.

“Do you understand anything I’m saying?” Jack asked of me, waving a hand in front of him. He spoke slowly, with exaggerated emphasis. “You. Fuck. Off. Now.” I stood statue still, my face a blank mask watching them. Jack laughed. “Looks like he forgot what he was doing. Alby, break his fucken’ teeth, and then grab the bitch so we can get started.”

I finally reached my breaking point. All at once, mana suffused my body and the runes on my sword dazzled brightly. There was no plan, no composed strategy; every enhancement I knew flicked on at once, something I usually found difficult to do. Tossing my sword up into the air, I caught it with a sideways grip and threw it like a javelin at the closest target, an unfamiliar man with dark hair and fox-like ears. It crushed through his chest, embedding itself up to the crossguard in his mangled flesh. He screamed for a moment, but blood erupted from his mouth and cut it short as he toppled backwards over his chair.

“BY THE PRIMES, KILL THIS FUCKER!” Jack screeched, jumping further back into the room to take cover behind the bed. The twins rushed forward, trying to take advantage of my weaponless state. Porks ran to a table by the fire and picked up a crossbow, fumbling with a pouch of bolts. “PORKS, SHOOT HIM!”

My vision was tinged with a pulsing red light, highlighting each man left standing in the room with a radiant crimson glow. It was an unfamiliar sensation, but I was long past the point of intellectual curiosity. Plus, it felt...good. Rocketing forward, I dodged an overhead blow from a mace. The man seemed to be moving at a snail’s pace, at least to my accelerated viewpoint, and I let his momentum carry him past me as I spun around behind him. A flash of red energy shone brilliantly from his belt and I noticed a small dagger sticking out, previously hidden to me. I reached in, yanking it up and out, sending it directly into the bottom of his jaw.

With the first twin out of the way, I rounded on the second. His face was a mix of strong emotions: rage from seeing his brother fall to his knees in agony, confusion over how the plan had gone so wrong, and fear. The fear was...delicious. He held a longsword and a shield to bear against me, but his form was sloppy. The shield was too low, and his footing was terrible. Even though I was bare handed, he was hesitant to approach. The fear of death is taking him. A dark smirk spread across my face as I reached out an empty hand between us.

In a flash, my sword disappeared from the wrecked chest cavity of the first man and materialized before me. Somewhere behind the overturned chair, there was a sickening wet squelch as the gaping wound collapsed on itself. The blade was glowing a monstrous red, a combination of the blood from the dead guards and the combat enhancements I had used. It shone and dimmed menacingly in the flickering firelight.

With a quick cut, I lashed out at the twin’s head. He barely caught it with the corner of his shield, just in time to save his face. The force of the blow sent him stumbling backwards, and he tripped and fell over one of the haphazardly pushed out chairs. I was about to follow up and confirm the kill when an all-to-familiar click of a loaded crossbow echoed in my ears. Turning, I saw Porks had finally loaded and readied a bolt, the deadly end of the weapon pointing directly at me.

Or, almost directly at me. His arms were shaking, and I could see that any shot taken from his current angle would fall far wide of me. Even so, when the bowstring snapped, I found myself moving unconsciously forward, directly into the line of fire. The bolt connected with my left shoulder with a hard thud, spinning me backwards and down to one knee.