Wrath Origins

By Nathan Orgill and Kareem Humphrise

The book Im writing is about a Savior from another planet, who protects his people form evil. Savior Wrath Arch enemy no other than Sunai the Villain. Every SCI FI fans dream is to have a story that has a great ending to it.
Wrath Origins provide indefinite great Story line, action, and adventure. Ways of our everyday life, and how to fight for what is right. Enjoy this high action packed adventure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 3, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483695693

Nathan Orgill

Kareem Humphrise: American artist publisher writer. Taking the time to express myself about my work. Grew up in a small town in Hopewell VA. Raised by two wonderful parents Earl and Regina Humphrise. My parents taught me the ways of Life and to conquer problem we all face. I decided to write a novel on science fiction. Science fiction is coming back popular, subjects like Star Trek huge movie, old ones like Battle Star Galactica, another The V. All these are great SCI FI television shows.

Book preview

Copyright © 2014 by Kareem Humphrise.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014903641

ISBN:       Hardcover       978-1-4931-8031-8

                 Softcover         978-1-4836-9567-9

                 Ebook             978-1-4836-9569-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 05/27/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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540135

Contents

THE FIRST INVASION

SUBJECT 211

THE FIRST INVASION

Stiff footsteps echo down the halls of a dark corridor. Dust makes the beams of light that angle down at the ground visible in the air. A man in tan pants and glossy brown loafers strolls through the hall, chewing gum. Coughs in the distance fade away the further he travels. His shoes grind on the bone-gray concrete as he comes to a stop and turns heel. More dust particles scatter about the soles of his shoes. His fingers bled through tight welded steel bars.

Had enough time to cool down? The man said, his scratchy, yet warm baritone voice reverberated briefly off the walls.

In response a growling sound comes out of the cell in front of him.

I’m talking to you. He said softly. The sound of thick metal chain links dragging, then suddenly being forced to their full extent, came next.

Use your words. Come on. The man said with squeezed lips and a heightened pitch. He hummed a tune to pass the time, then his fingers slid down from the grate of metal in front of him. One of his hands then slid down into the pocket of his slacks. The shape of his pants about his upper leg relaxed as he pulled out a maglight. Holding it by the bulb end, he started tapping the cross-bar of the cell. With each tap, his hits grew harder.

Stop. A voice like a lion came from inside. The chains started to settle on the ground.

That’s all I wanted! The man said with a bit of an optimistic whine.

So have you had enough time-

Yes.

How long did it take you to learn our language?

Five minutes.

The heavy chunking sound of industrial lighting being switched on and buzzing allowed the man some time to reflect. In the light, it was clear he wore a cream suit with a dark red silk shirt and a black tie. The suit’s lapels were high and stretched over his chest. His skin was a seasoned brown, and his slick straight black hair tight against his head, ponytailed in the back.

You look different from the others in the blue clothes. Said a burley, turquoise-blue skinned Arcxian alien, who was dripping with glistening chains. He was shackled and fettered at just about every joint of his body.

You expect me to believe five minutes is enough time to understand and speak a foreign language?

Most species greet with names and physical contact of some form. Yours greets with metal ropes.

I am guessing that is your form of sarcasm. My name is Mr. Hawk. Alan Hawk. And yes, I do look different from the others. I hope you realize that you, an alien, have started your judgment of a species first by pointing out their different skin colors, when we associate your color as being nothing more significant than a frog. Forgive our frailties, but most are not going to accept you.

Are you a different race? A strong silence fell at that moment. You can call me Wrath. Does your species have different races?

Yes. Mine have been here longer than the ones you saw. That race you saw before invaded this land and took it over. My people were almost wiped out.

"Your people? You are all the same species; you shouldn’t say it that way. You are all the same no matter how you look.

Well, we are a weak species. No matter how much time we spend trying to live above such petty behavior, we can’t help it. That’s exactly why I am here though. I work for people who might be able to get you a room with some more… pleasant accommodations. You would like that wouldn’t you? Consider it an apology from a nicer side of the human race.

Human. Wrath said in contemplation.

That’s what we call ourselves. Our police sacrificed their lives to save their people, but we seem to be the only people smart enough to see that you are actually different from the ones that attacked us.

Sunai.

Is that what you call them?

No. Sunai is their leader. You were lucky I was there.

You are scheduled for termination by just about everyone except for the organization that I represent. I am taking too long. If you do exactly what I tell you, I can pull enough authority to get you out of here forever.

You can’t terminate me. None of your people can. Sunai hasn’t even figured out how to do it.

I wouldn’t count on it. I saw you get injured. But you don’t have to worry about it if you simply do exactly what I tell you. Can you do that for me?

If you can promise me freedom.

Your freedom is not mine to give.

Who can give it to me?

Only you. Alan Hawk looked to his right, back where he came, to the sound of multiple footsteps charging light-footed toward him. He gave a smile and pointed to them as he stepped back. Stay exactly where you are. He said, much to Wrath’s confusion.

As fast as lightning, men and women in gray and black SWAT outfits charged up to the bars of Wrath’s cell and placed small explosives at the corners. With a rapid series of explosive bursts, the bars fell into the hallway. After more dust cleared, the team stormed toward wrath and started to pick the locks that held him in place.

This is where it gets tricky. Go where they want you to! Alan yelled above the clamor of commands, heavy boots, and the clattering of small arms. One black-clad woman set her hand on Wrath’s wrist to begin directing him. She shook off the thought that his hand was