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GodforsakenIn 59 AD, as the Celt horde on Anglesey succumbs to Roman aggression, war goddess Fey grants Lucan Mac Aliester his wish—life. Lucan soon discovers that it is not his Druidic people the bargain elevates, but himself.

Bulletproof Soul20 tales of action, suspense, intrigue and terror set in the Majestic Universe by the author of Nocturnal Vacations and Depths of Savagery. "His dark and primal passion explodes in vicious tales. Likened to the timeless author Robert E. Howard's barbarism, Steven L. Shrewsbury is the reincarnated Howard." -Peggy Jo Shumate aka Brutal Dreamer, Eternal Night Science Fiction, Fantasy and Horror

eBook - Depths of Savagery"Depths of Savagery is a collection of 13 tales of barbaric heroic fantasy. Through tales involving ancient Celts, Vikings, other-worldly Crusaders, and Confederate Guerillas, the human animal is dissected to the bone..." Click for more info.

Nocturnal Vacations, by Steven L. Shrewsbury. "Dack Shannon, albino agent from secret intelligence cabal Majestic Services, is exiled to a remote locale and dispenses ruthless justice as he sees fit..."

Deathgrip 2DeathGrip: Legacy of Terror, spanning the globe with tales of ancient horror. "PREORDER NOW! 18 mind-blowing stories by an international cast of authors revolving around the theme of ancient horrors! Shipping October 2003!"

Atrocitas Aqua"Herman Melville said it best when he proclaimed that every path eventually leads to the sea. For it is the sea that holds our most sacred and terrifying fears, yet it also holds a glorious mysticism over us as a race, an attraction so strong that most of us flock to beaches, river banks, creeks, and lakes at every opportunity to stare out into the vast blueness and wonder: what's out there?"

Grimoire De Solace"Grimoire de Solace is a dark fantasy anthology by 15 writers, with illustrations by 15 artists. A vast array of stories covers many settings and themes, with elements of horror, romance, mystery, action, and everything in between. A must for readers of the fantasy genre."

The Blackest Death"In the world of The Blackest Death things are never what they seem and a trip down a lonely stretch of highway, through the shadow-rooms of a darkened house at the edge of the woods, or through the inhuman imagination might just bring you face to face with your worst possible nightmare come true..."

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There was never a king or priest to cheer me by word or look,
There was never a man or beast in the blood-black ways I took.
There were crimson gulfs unplumbed, there were black wings over a sea,
There were pits where mad things drummed, and foaming blasphemy

ROBERT E. HOWARD
Song Of The Mad Minstrel

Juan Santos opened his eyes and found he still was in Hell. No matter how many times he tried to deny it, he burned. While the fire of eternity licked his spiritual form, incorruptible, his mind spun on the new endowed level of consciousness he possessed. Juan imagined Hell long ago in the parish when he heard tell of it from Father Rios. How could Hell be full of fire and yet be a place of eternal darkness? With this newfound reason death endowed upon him, Juan discovered that just such a torturous eventuality was possible. Every millimeter of his being burned, yet he could discern shapes and elements, but an ebony night cloaked everything, accented by scarlet hues.

"Ready for anything else?" a taunting voice whispered close to his ear and Juan felt his genitalia stretched beyond comprehension - only to snap back in place.

Chained to the stone-like wall, unable to breathe or bleed, Juan Santos screamed.

"But lemme tell ya a secret!" the hideous voice cooed in Juan's right ear again. "Just remember why you are here! Hang with me, kid, I'm goin' someplace with this!"

Juan ceased in his shouts, his ears both ripped free from his soul in the teeth of tiny, reptilian parasites only to grow back in an instant. "Go away!"

The demonic entity before him frowned his goat-like lips and his ebony eyes danced. "Still hallowing in pity eh? Ya got eternity to do that punk!" The creature with leathery, bat-like wings snuggled close to Juan's left regrown ear, his feted breath washing over the flames there. "I got a way for ya to get even with the bastard who sent ya here! Interested?"

"You mean I can be free?"

After an hour of laughter subsided the creature replied, "Get serious, punk. Do you remember the offer? I said get even, not get free. None of us can get free. Well, maybe a little bit. We can hang out on the material plain for quite a spell, but it isn't like escape, more of an evasion!"

"Oh, anything!" Juan shrieked. "Anything for a relief in all this torment!"

"Remember when your faith was destroyed? I saw that happen, bud!"

Juan blinked, choked and nodded. "Father Suentes! He bastard who molested me! Yes! I could never believe...in anything after that..."

The creature licked his teeth with a forked tongue and kicked a series of tiny beasts away from chewing on Juan's thigh. "Hey! I'm talkin' here! Take a powder, little gnats! Look here, Juan Santos, wanna make sure the padre gets his in the end?"

"YES!" Juan howled, his tongue flailing, covered in boils.

"Then me and you are gonna team up, see? Ya gotta use me to get out! Ol' Amazarak must carry ya pass the gulf! We will get thrown back eventually, but hey, a few minutes is a few minutes, eh?"

"Why, why help me? You're tormenting me again!"

Again, Amazarak laughed for several minutes. "Kid, I'm just killin' time. General mischief is my bag these days and takin' out a pious man o'the cloth beats stirrin' up boogers in Voltaire's bath again!"

"Anything!" Juan reiterated. "What do I have to do?"

Amazarak mockingly cracked his knuckles, yet no sound emerged from his leathery hands. "All right! Ya are half way there! Ya see, ya must come willingly or there is no chance. Ya see, homey, since you were violated by a Man o'God in a place of worship, that gives yer spirit a bit further rein."

"Wha? How so?"

"Stupid ass! Ya can't go to the Material Plain in your current state or your old body! That carcass was cremated after ya hung yerself, dipstick! But as a spirit, ya qualify under the rules of engagement, as a poltergeist!"

"I...a poltergeist?"

"Haven't you been payin' any attention since ya got here?" Amazarak leapt up, miniaturized his mass and hung on Juan's stomach and chest. His jagged nails dug into the spiritual body of Juan Santos, but the skin sealed around the invading digits. "Yeah, that is how we can get him! As a regular spirit, crap, kid, ya can only try and scare the hell into him. I wager this tool of a priest doesn't spook easy or he wouldn't be screwin' kids with God lookin' over his shoulder! No, a poltergeist can cause damage, you savvy? Real pain and that is what I'm all about. Open mouth, please."

"Huh?"

The demonic creature hissed, "Open yer dammed pie hole, simpleton! Ya agreed to this bargain! I can't very well carry your sorry ass back to Earth, can I?"

Juan's mouth parted some and a confused expression spread on his face.

Out of patience, Amazarak sighed, grabbed Juan's bottom jaw, yanked down and shrunk his mass again. "Gettin' tired of your kind, sparky." With that the demonic creature flew into Juan Santos mouth, disappearing down his gullet in a moment.

Juan felt his body convulse and then the bonds break on the wall. Exhilaration filled his form as he flew through the dusky denizens of Hell, rising above them and gliding over the pits of the lost. Several hands reached out, but Juan kicked them down. He was shocked at his actions, and then heard Amazarak in his head shout, "Leave the drivin' to me, kid."

With incredible speed they rocketed to the gates of rusted blood and passed right through. Juan felt his density decrease so much that his shape truly was like unto a ghost...

Suddenly, as the planet Earth appeared before Juan, he heard Amazarak's voice taunt him, "No kid, not like a ghost. There are no such thing as ghosts." After a long echoing laugh the demon spoke no more.

In mere moments Juan found himself free from the burning pits and in a shape resembling the humanoid one now cremated on Earth, only willowy and practically invisible. It didn't take him any time to find himself back in the old parish church he attended as a teenager. This place, St. Sabinas, was where he lost his faith. In this abode Juan Santos ceased to believe in God and started down the road to perdition. That was ten years ago and Father Suentes remained the assistant priest at St. Sabinas.

Juan hovered near the back of the church, thinking the old ladies leaving the confessional aside aged Father Rios could see him...but the ladies genuflected and walked right through his outline. He reached out, waved at one of them - and her scarf ruffled! The old lady turned, looked about, then headed out the door. Juan grinned, realizing that if he could touch them, or affect them in some way, Father Suentes had not a prayer!

Glee bubbling in his breast, Juan glided in moments to the front of the church and beheld his nemesis, Father Suentes, walking out of the side door that led to the altar. The priest, a tad older, some winkled, still carried himself with confidence that exuded trust. Juan understood that this smooth talent was why children came to trust the priest. Father Miguel Suentes was exactly the kind of man one would want to be - confident, strong and fun loving. It was all a charade, Juan ‘s mind surged as his bile exploded. He reached out and tried to seize hold of the large statue of the Virgin Mary. The statue teetered, and then tumbled off the pedestal and fell nowhere near Father Suentes.

"Maria!" Suentes exclaimed, crossing himself as the statue broke asunder at his feet. The middle-aged padre fell down, gathering up the pieces on the red carpet as if he could put them together again.

Confused as to why the statue didn't fly as far as his strength directed, Juan reached down and tried to grab up a jagged edge. Visions of the false-priest, his throat bloody and then writhing in Hell next to him filled his mind--yet Juan lacked the ability to fulfill this dream. His hands gripped the piece, but it refused to levitate into the air.

"Amazarak!" Juan said, but the priest heard nothing. "Where are you?"

Up the aisle limped the elderly Father Rios, "Father Miguel?" His weary tone sang out in a heavy Spanish accent.

Abruptly, Juan turned from Father Suentes and found his body floated toward Father Rios. Confused, he attempted to set down, but discovered he couldn't prevent an impact with the old man. To any bystander, it looked as if the aged priest grabbed his chest and fell backwards. Astonished to see his hands buried in the priest chest, stirring about, Juan tried to pull away and warn Father Rios. Double failures rippled through Juan in his poltergeist persona...

Then the old Priest died.

Juan screamed to only his own ears and ascended above, horrified at his actions. He hollered in his skull, "Amazarak! Father Rios was the wrong one!"

A small, still voice chuckled from deep in his skull and replied, "Oh, on the contrary, kid. This old fool was the right one!"

As Juan's spirit flew to the rear of the church and Father Suentes rushed to the dead Father Rios' side Juan yelped, "But it is Father Suentes I wanted dead!"

"Who gives a crap about him?" Amazarak retorted and threw Juan through the closed church doors and into the shining sunlight. "Suentes is ours already! He ain't gonna do anything but good for us! Father Rios, however, spreading too damned much good cheer!"

Juan roared in anger as he glided over the street of the rough neighborhood, trying to weep.

"Hold yer water, punk, we got a lot more to do!"

Juan shouted back, "Never! This is my body! You can't..."

"Ya can't fight with me, punk! I...crap on a shingle..."

Sensing confusion or panic in Amazarak, Juan searched his mind and then the street about him. Several people stood talking, but none acknowledged him, save for one very tall man. In the midst of this Mexican neighborhood in Chicago stood a gigantic man of Spanish descent, dressed in leather pants and a long fur coat. Standing between two women in miniskirts and cheap make-up, the tall man zeroed in on Juan as if he could see him. This man with a grim expression gaped at Juan and moved toward him, discarding his purple hat. Yet Juan could see the pimp still standing between the girls! There was two of him! It was as if the pimp divided and replicated himself! Stupefied, Juan froze up and whispered, "Amazarak? What is going on?" No voice returned as the large man's doppelganger came near to Juan and suddenly transformed.

Fear seized Juan as the tall man's hair grew longer and the sheen glistened a deeper black hue. His skin tone lightened, but still bore a slight tan. The flat nose arched into an almost Semitic fashion and his features took on a more pronounced profile. The leather clothing melted away and the man's body gleamed in white clothing...and a series of six wings stretched around the converting pimp. Two gigantic wings extended out to the sides, while two smaller sets curled about his legs and the other about his shoulders. Each of these wings bore a system akin to feathers, but Juan swore that they were constructed from glittering razors.

"What is he?" Juan howled.

Amazarak mumbled, "Seraph. It was fun while it lasted."

Juan Santos wished he could cry as the massive creature put his hands on his white linen covered hips and wondered, "Out for a walk?"

"I escaped with him..." Juan bleated.

The Angel immediately wore a sour look. "Be silent. Amazarak, stop letting him imagine that he is really here."

Amazarak relied, "You know the game."

The Angel sighed. "Yes. It's getting old, don't you think?"

Amazarak giggled and Juan couldn't prevent his hands from clapping like a sports fan, "Worth a try! It was in my nature to escape by any means I could!"

The Angel raised his dark, arched eyebrows and his body mass seemed to grow. "And you know your penalty."

Juan cried out, confused as the two long Angelic Wings enveloped him and suddenly returned to the chambers of Hell. The only light in the area emitted via the colossal Angelic being. He held Juan's image by the shoulders and pointed down at the seething mass of sizzling bodies and endless abodes of torture. "NO!"

The Angel frowned. "Wake up."

Juan blinked and his perspective changed. He was again chained to the wall, maggots festering in his burning mouth...but he could see his body held above by the glowing, beautiful Angel. In his mind boiled the question, how could that man be two places at once?

"You never left," the Angel informed Juan as the beaming face looked at the body in his hands. The shape of Juan Santos faded and the creature sharing attributes of a bat, reptile and goat reappeared.

"Amazarak!" Juan shouted in anger.

Juan heard the Angel tell Amazarak, "Never learn, do you? First, mating with females, then being cast out of a fortuneteller in Greece. Being in Hell-Proper wasn't good enough for you! Now you must go to the Abyss!"

Amazarak spat at the Angel, defiantly screaming, "Ya gotta have the key to that, big guy!"

The Angel smirked. "I do."

True panic leapt across Amazarak's face as if some chance existed somewhere that this personage before them wasn't who he seemed to be. That hope dashed, Amazarak snorted back, "You are just a slave! Your power is almost as great as Lord Lucifer's!"

Juan could see the Angel smile, as could the rest of the inhabitants of that plain of Hell. . From the mouth of the six-winged creature came the almost arrogant words, "Mine is greater."

"Then join with us!" Amazarak begged. "It is not too late! You are the most powerful creation in the Universe bar none! Your power rivals that of the Luciferian horde! You wouldn't come with us back in the beginning! One of the underlings, the anointed Cherub who covers had to fall first! Do it now! Be our new Messiah in this realm of fire! Your power is almost absolute!"

"Almost. Key Phrase." The smile still clung to the Angel's face. "You see, although blessed with the second greatest power in the Universe, Amazarak, even I must lay prostrate. The greatest must become the least..."

"Spare me your weakness!" the demon hissed and the Supreme Angel bore his filth spewing, fallen comrade away.

Juan, feeling cheated, used and lost anew, had his question answered by the hordes about him as to the identity of the Seraphim that ascended. When the seal of the bottomless pit of Hell was opened, clouds of ashen darkness bloated out all they could see for a time. With a bellow heard from the corners of Hell to the nightmares of every child in the Universe, Amazarak was confined to the abyss. As the seal ground closed and the Angel ascended above their masses, Juan and the rest received a glimpse of pure light for an instant. Juan heard the multitude of the damned shout out a stunned cry of both admiration and hatred for the one who went beyond, "MICHAEL!"

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