Tainted: Astin Fell, #1

By H.C. Cavall

Astin Fell lives the life of a struggling barista until he inexplicably sprouts wings and horns. Now he's the last servant of an unknown power, conscripted to fight the Taint---a horrific evil devouring the world one tiny piece at a time.

He'll have help: Nemesis, the shotgun-toting Goddess of Vengeance; Claudia Fischer, a woman with three different souls bonded inside of her; his nightmarish vampyre ex-girlfriend; and his telepathic housecat. But if Astin and his friends can't unravel the vast conspiracy lurking in the city's shadows, the Taint will consume everyone and everything in it... and there'll be nothing left to stop its spread.

• Language: English
• Publisher: H.C. Cavall
• Release date: Aug 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536595420

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Copyright

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons, places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Text Copyright © 2016 by H.C. Cavall

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.

Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com

For Jen, Thalia, and Her

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 1

Gunpowder.

At least, that’s what I thought the smell was. I didn’t know much about guns. Do they still use gunpowder in the bullets? It’s funny, the things you think of when you’re about to die.

"Move!"

She grabbed me by the back of my collar and threw me—and I mean threw me. I soared over concrete into the side of a dumpster. If I didn’t instinctively air brake with my new wings, I might’ve had a broken back then and there. Instead, I bounced off it face first with a clang, and—

Oh, yeah. I forgot to mention. I have wings now. And horns.

Maybe I should start from the beginning.

---

It was just a few days earlier, and I was coming out of the theater. Snow was on the ground, and I huddled farther down into my coat. It was a modern Chesterfield I had found at a thrift shop—dark navy, double breasted, a little frayed around the edges. It was warm and seemed to fit well. Besides, the price was right.

I coughed into my fist and crossed the parking lot, stepping over the raised median. The snow crunched under my boots. Stars twinkled in the sky, bright and happy. The movie had helped cheer me up; some fantasy fluff with swords, elves, chain mail bikinis, and elves in chain mail bikinis. (I won’t lie, the last one was the best part.) Fun and utterly forgettable, they provided a cheap release on weeks where the budget was thin. The coffeehouse wasn’t offering as many hours as they used to, and—

Wait a minute. Stars? Twinkling?

I stared up at the night sky, mouth partially open in confusion. They were all there: Polaris, Orion, Big and Little Dippers… I could even see Venus. One little problem: The floodlights in the parking lot were on. With all that light pollution, I shouldn’t have been able to see anything.

I felt something. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and it was like some unseen person walked through me. It’s the only way I knew how to explain it. I felt someone watching me, and I whirled around. There was nothing behind me but cars, concrete, and the buzz of electricity through the lights overhead. My heart slowed, and I rolled my eyes at my sudden paranoia. The stress of living paycheck to paycheck was finally getting to me.

I turned back, and she was there.

She was on the other side of the parking lot, a leather coat wrapped tight around her body and red hair spilling down her back. She was pale, her eyes tucked behind a pair of aviator sunglasses—seriously, who wears those things in the middle of the night?—and was frowning disapprovingly. She stayed quiet and motionless, her hands in her pockets. Her stare was hard, sharp, and oppressive. I broke into a cold sweat despite the temperature.

She was watching me.

I took a step back, then looked over my shoulder to shout for help. There was no one there. A major summer blockbuster just emptied out, and there was no one in the parking lot. Just concrete and cold night air.

I broke into a run for my car. The only thought in my head was that I wanted her to stop looking at me like that. Besides, she was half a foot taller than me and looked like she mugged people for fun instead of profit. I finally reached my hatchback, my lungs on fire. My hands shook as I tried to get the key into the lock, and oh God don’t look back, nothing good ever happens when you look back, just get in get in get in—

I glanced up anyway. Call it morbid curiosity, or maybe just panicked instinct.

She was gone.

It didn’t slow me down much. I wrenched the door open, dove in, and slammed it behind me. I hit the automatic locks and cranked the starter as fast I could. I wasn’t stupid enough to think a beat up decades old hatchback was going to stand between me and someone like that, so I needed to get out of there. Now. The car staggered to life on the first try—for once—and I hit the headlights. I immediately put it in reverse and stomped the accelerator, intent on getting to a crowded area, a damn police station, anywhere but here.

There was a crash. I didn’t notice the hood denting inwards, because the car was now tilted forward at an angle, and I was too busy screaming. This… thing… had landed on the hood of my car.

Its face was sickening. Honestly, I shouldn’t even call it a face. It was a blob of darkness contained in a hood, with… eyes. A lot of eyes. Eyes in places they shouldn’t be, in angles that weren’t horizontal, and a hell of a lot more of them than two. Whatever it was made out of temporarily occupied a grey hoodie and pair of jeans. It didn’t have legs or feet, just a trail of black awfulness oozing out behind it. Tentacles of ichor burst from its sleeves, swaying and jiggling in the air.

I stopped screaming and caught my breath. I looked around hastily, assessed the situation, and considered my options. I took the best one available.

I started screaming again.

Then, I put it in drive and slammed the pedal all the way down. The wheels squealed under its weight, smoke rising from the burnt rubber, and I went nowhere. The blob-thing suddenly split its arms into multiple fingers. Three of them squished wetly against the driver side door and ripped it off its hinges, flinging it through the air and into the windshield of a car a few rows back. They surged through the now empty door towards me, twisting and splitting into tiny capillaries as they sought my face. I didn’t know what would happen if they made it there. I got the feeling it was going to be a hell of a lot worse than what happened to my hatchback.

The shot came from out of nowhere, and it wasn’t a pistol. It was the booming report of a shotgun, and it blew the thing clear off my hood and down the parking lot. The car shot forward as it suddenly righted, back wheels still bouncing. I have no idea how I managed to avoid flipping over when the front end crumpled against an SUV’s rear bumper. There was barely a dent in the other car. I had long since accepted that my hatchback was made of compressed aluminum and chewing gum.

I fishtailed around in a panic, managing to slam the passenger side against another car in the process. I looked in my rear view mirror. The thing was upright, a hole blown clear through the chest of its hoodie. Black sickness was slowly oozing back together to close it.

I hit the gas and didn’t look back. I can’t remember if I was still screaming or not, but my throat was pretty hoarse the next morning.

Chapter 2

Auto State Insurance. Please state the nature of your claim.

Yeah, hi. I glanced out the window. I need to report some vehicle damage.

How was the vehicle damaged, sir?

Oh, you know. Something out of H.R. Giger’s fever dreams jumped on top of it. The usual.

In a parking lot. It wasn’t a total lie, at least. Somebody really did a number on it while I was gone.

The operator was clearly unimpressed. How bad is the damage?

I looked out the window again. The crumpled front bumper fell off with a loud smack.

I sighed. It’s gonna have to be totaled.

---

I had to take the bus to work that day—which, of course, meant getting there two hours late. Phil was waiting for me outside, arms crossed. I could tell he was pissed that I no-showed without calling. When he saw the thousand stare I was giving the world, his expression changed entirely

Jesus, Astin. He met me halfway up the sidewalk. You look like hell. What happened?

Something smashed up my car last night, Phil. I caught myself. "Somebody. I meant somebody."

That old piece of crap? They did you a favor, if you ask me. You have insurance, right?

I’m filing a report today. I still had no idea what I was going to tell the cops. Sorry about being late. I was on the phone all morning with insurance, and then I missed the first bus, and—

Save it. He held up a hand. You shouldn’t even be here. Go home.

Can’t. Next bus is in an hour and a half. I shrugged. "I’m already clinging to my sanity by my fingertips here. I need something to keep me occupied."

Fine. But next time, you call in and stay at home. You hear me? Work should be the least of your problems right now.

Yeah. I didn’t bother arguing. Phil had a way of turning questions into non-optional statements.

Good.

He held the door for me as I walked past. The familiar smell of the Black Hole Coffeehouse hit me right in the nose. Caffeine, java, and spice. The good stuff, not the preprocessed charcoal briquettes they sold at major chains. Phil got his beans directly from Columbia, fair trade, and roasted each and every batch himself. Like everything else in his life, he demanded the absolute best—first and foremost from himself. He was a pain in the ass sometimes, but no one would ever accuse Phil of being a hypocrite.

I hung my coat on the beat-up brass coat rack by the door and tried to find my apron. The Hole was inviting but disorganized. Actually, patchwork would’ve be a better term, or maybe just chaos. Abstractly twisting metal sculptures were offset by the cheery paintings of fruit on one wall and Pollock splotches on another. Pink plastic chairs surrounded antique wooden tables. A chalkboard hung over the counter with a hand drawn flamingo and today’s specials. We were apparently having a two for one sale on our namesake, a cup of black coffee with two shots of espresso and whipped cream. The whipped cream masked the flavor long enough to get it down. After that, the hard part was not exploding.

Mary was first to greet me as I finally located my apron and hurried over to the espresso machines. She was wearing her usual dark mascara, cherry-red lipstick, and a small snake made of silver wrapped around one ear. Her hair was a dark, natural black. It made me jealous every time I saw it. My black hair had to come out of a bottle.

Hey! she said. About time you showed up! Were you going to leave me by myself at rush hour?

You know I wouldn’t do that. I hastily dumped ground espresso into the holder, getting half of it on me in the process. I had some stuff come up. My car got completely wrecked.

Fuck. I’m sorry, Astin. I didn’t know. She dropped what she was doing—much to the annoyance of the next customer in line—and put a hand on my shoulder. Are you okay?

Yeah, I’m fine. I snugged an arm around her hourglass waist. She smelled like coffee and roses. I loved that smell. Some asshole decided to do a number on my car while I was at the movies. It’s gonna have to be totaled.

They did you a favor, if you ask me.

Yeah, well. It may have been a piece of crap, but it was the only car I had. The bus lines in this city suck. What am I supposed to do now?

She gave me an impish grin and leaned forward on the counter, pushing her arms together. The tight apron made her chest even more noticeable. I can give you a ride after work if you want.

I accidentally dumped the rest of the espresso on me, and she choked back a laugh. She kissed her fingers, pressed it to my lips, and wandered back to the register. Horrific as it was, I could already feel the aftershocks of last night draining out of me. Mary had that effect on people.

---

One of the fun things about sex and dating is learning new things