The Morderer’S Sacrifice: Wunderkind’S Weakness

By Sarah Smothers

When Fay Garmone made the decision to save Lee Yellen, it brought her to a new world. A world both amazingand horrifying. Ensnared in the Morderers Sacrifice, a trapping and trying competition forcing her to hide everything in fear of her life while enduring the terrifying wait for the first sacrifice to take place, she discovered there existed things she never believed possible.
After revealing the truth to Gladdimir Kwiloz, she finds herself struggling with the task of learning everything she can about this world, but when her search for knowledge unearths more information about the Morderers Sacrifice, including Jay Morderer himself, the competition takes a darker turn; The other team attempts to sabotage as they struggle to remain competing; Lee Yellen, her deadly rival, now has more dire reason to end her life; and a few new faces bring her deeper into the mystery of Evans, Firky, Lyda, and Darr, as well as dark truths going on behind the scenes of the game.
But amidst the fear, even above her struggling family and living with her enemy, Fay faces her greatest battle as she may discover the one thing she cannot live without.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 27, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499012828

Book preview

The Morderer’s Sacrifice

Wunderkind’s Weakness

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Written and Illustrated by

Sarah Smothers

Copyright © 2014 by Sarah Smothers.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014908024

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-4990-1284-2

                Softcover       978-1-4990-1285-9

                eBook            978-1-4990-1282-8

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.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 05/20/2014

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris LLC

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

1.   Dividing Ways

2.   Hironori’s Plea

3.   Jesse’s Present

4.   Legends

5.   Wunderkind’s Weakness

6.   Rules

7.   Samer and Jordin

8.   Autopsy

9.   Gladdimir’s Mistake

10.   The Woods of Wunderkind

11.   Foxglove

12.   Jack Spencer

13.   The Funeral

14.   Non-practical prodigies

15.   Another Kind of Confession

16.   From Black to Turquoise

17.   Jordin’s Story

18.   The Sacrifice

19.   Jones, Kaseph, and Guiddeon

20.   Endure

For Jordan and Joshua,

My Geronimoe and Triumph.

There comes a time when strength may fail

No serum at hand to cure the ail

Resisting hearts begin to tire

Still forced head first into the fire

The horrors near unequivocally true

Uprising lends no help you

When passes by a minor release

This with both hands you must seize

And dive into a fleeting smile

It will only linger for a while

However minor, the slightest bit

Take it, for it’s all you’ll get

The truth returns upon you fast;

Your sacrifice is far from past

With peace and sovereignty surly gone

Find the means to stumble on

Forbid all hope, refuse to bend

You know not when you’ll see the end

But through the toil emerges light

Bequeathing strength and will to fight

Define and defend most precious of things

Grasp all evanescent delight they bring

Though in their wonder, beware the price

If this you cannot sacrifice

Chapter One

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Dividing Ways

O n the corner of Deyo and Burlington Avenue, hundreds of miles away from the isolated participants of the Morderer’s Sacrifice , stood a dilapidated and weather beaten building. It marked the corner of a cluster of houses entailing a rather pathetic village. The river that split the village in two was mossy and undesirable to the small, water seeking animals unfortunate enough to find the place. An unnatural fog blanketed the village in its entirety. The houses, even in broad daylight, appeared to be blackened.

Surrounded by stretches of craggy lands that undulated in every direction, the village had nothing to show for itself other than years of desertion and neglect.

The saddest aspect of this village was not the pea-green river or the decaying houses: It was the people. The people made the place, if you can imagine, even more uninhabitable.

No one wished to live in a place where your next door neighbor was likely to riffle through your garbage at three o’clock in the morning, or throw a brick into your window out of the delusion you stole their cat. It was as though the usual traditions of functioning society were not a practiced custom.

In that decrepit house perched ricked on the corner lived a man by the name of Prince Firky.

On the one hand, Firky was not happy living in such a dumpy place, where the outcasts of the outcasts had decided to come together and try to live. It was all he could stand to look at his front door and call it home.

On the other, he was glad of the opportunities it provided. For one thing, it was not uncommon to avoid conversing with, looking at, or even acknowledge the existence of the people around him. This made useless chit-chat with the neighbors completely unnecessary. Firky was perfectly content having his existence kept secret.

Being a man of intellect, he felt like an outcast even in this dilapidated village inhabited by the bizarre, disgusting, and socially awkward. His knowledge of relationships only made living amongst them that much harder to endure. He, of all people, understood their outlandishness.

From age three, Firky’s mother and father had trained him to become a prodigy in the practice of Sociology. Human relationships, Firky remembered his mother saying to anyone who listened. They’re fascinating!

To his misfortune, he was never able to pick what his prodigy would be, enduring his entire life hating the subject he knew everything about; the philosophy of human relationships.

No matter the quantity of ridiculousness he placed into his prodigy, he was still master of the trade. Because of this unwonted skill, he had proven himself to be very useful in the eyes of three other prodigies.

One of the only reasons he felt need to associate with them was because they found him useful. His prodigy being useful was never something he considered a possibility until the introduction of Lyda, Evans, and Darr. So he endured them with hidden revulsion, alongside a rare sense of pride.

He was certain they did not know he lived here. No one that was of prodigy kind knew he lived here—at least to the best of his current knowledge.

Ever since he had, for want of a better word, moved in, not even a mouse had come to call. Which is why on a chilly night in February, he was startled to hear a knock on his front door.

It caused him to jump a foot in the air, dropping his cup of bad coffee. The cup shattered into tiny shards of porcelain, scattering across the dull wooden floorboards. Firky took no notice; a broken cup was not what troubled him at the moment.

The knock was powerful. It was as though all thoughts of the protective dissociation he had come to find here were suddenly forgotten. The world he lived in now and the world he used to live in merged into one.

He was very skeptical to reveal himself. People around here weren’t the kind who simply knocked on doors when they wanted a word. Just who exactly would come to call on him in the scum of his household? More disconcerting was their reason to come in the dead of night, when you could expect anything bad to happen and no one around to care.

Then again, Firky reminded himself, the village looked so depressing during the day that perhaps the coverage of nightfall made it easier on the eyes.

He glanced out of the upper story window to see who it was—who they were—and recognized them immediately.

Damn it… .

Panic overtook him as he imagined one of his ill-headed neighbors spotting the three of them on his doorstep. It caused him a slight headache as he tried to make sense of the fact that their normalness is why his neighbors would view them as strange. He sent a chair flying in his haste to rush downstairs and fling open the door.

The tallest of the three hurried in. He threw his hat and coat on the sofa before even saying hello. This man was Gherrett Darr. The other man was Hunter Evans.

Long-time-no-see, said Firky, addressing them all. He thought his tone of voice served as a good indication he was not thrilled to see them. He would have to change that; he needed to be careful around Evans.

The second tallest figure stepped inside, lowering the hood of his black winter coat to reveal a pink face. How is it out there, Evans?

Beautiful, he answered, smiling and looking around at Firky’s shabby interior. It was hard to find you, Firky. You did pretty well. He looked as though he was refraining from laughing with extreme difficulty.

I’m not trying to hide, snapped Firky. He wasn’t really that offended, but he needed to pretend for Evans’ sake.

Of course you aren’t, said the final visitor, who seemed unwilling to remove her hood or the scarf wrapped firmly around her mouth. Her cold, grey eyes told Firky that there was a mocking smile underneath the scarf.

Let me close the door, he said quickly.

Quit trying to change the subject, said Evans.

Firky frowned because that wasn’t what he was doing at all. They didn’t understand the people around here, but Firky didn’t feel like wasting the evening in attempt to explain them.

"I’d never guess you to live outside of prodigies, Firky. It took me, Darr, and Lyda ages to find you."

He’s glad to hear that, said the provoking voice of Cora Lyda. It means it’s working.

"What’s working?" He asked Lyda angrily.

Give it up, Lyda, said Evans. I’m playing with him. There is no reason for him to be hiding. Don’t you think I’d know if there was?

Lyda chose not to respond.

Who is that? asked Darr, speaking for the first time since entering. His eyes were narrowed in the direction of the front door.

Firky turned. He could barely make out the silhouettes of two heads through the grimy, domed window. He knew again who these people must be and quickly crossed the room to let them in. He did not want them here, but the neighbors’ glimpsing them presented a problem.

Wait! Lyda hissed, but it was too late. Sirus Musil and Steff Zuro were already making their way over the threshold, both looking uneasy. There was snow covering their heads and the bitter wind had pinked their cheeks.

Discomfort was prominent on their faces; winters in Wunderkind never reached such low temperatures. In each of their right hands, meshing together and casting a greenish tint over Firky’s living room, were their fire spheres; Steff’s a rather dull yellow, Sirus’ a twilight blue.

Lee’s coming, Sirus said in a rush. He closed the door behind him. He must make sure everyone is sleeping so no one notices his absence.

He glanced around the room at the mismatched furniture and the cob-webbed dirt-encrusted windows, distaste all over his face. He quickly began rubbing his frozen hands together to hide his look of disgust.

Firky you couldn’t light a fire could you? asked Darr slowly, eyeing the spheres in Sirus’ and Steff’s hands as if wishing these flames emitted heat. Firky paid no attention to that. He didn’t want to make the atmosphere welcoming for fear of them staying longer. Darr then took it upon himself to kindle a fire. Soon the room was doused in more soft, yellow light.

In the moment Darr sat back down, rendering the room silent, their ears picked up the sound of crunching snow on the pathway leading to Firky’s front door.

It opened without a knock and Lee Yellen, leaning on a waist-high expensive-looking cane, entered with the air of displeasure to be there.

Six pairs of eyes were suddenly staring his direction. He was the reason they’d come, after all. Firky knew that. He also knew every one of them was wasting their time. But Lyda was determined; she wouldn’t give her idea a rest until she heard the conclusion straight from Lee Yellen’s mouth.

He shuttered at the thought of her disappointment and the schemes she would invent after this one failed.

Sit down, Lee, said Firky courteously. Lee and Lyda were the only two refusing to remove their coats.

I’d rather stand.

Look, Firky responded, silently agreeing with Lee and wishing to get this over with as quickly as possible. I think I know why you are here.

You’re right, Lee stated in the commanding tone of a thought-to-be-leader; he had used it so often before. The proud, haughty tone made Firky frown at him. You know what this is about, and—

Lee! said Steff, who was the only one in the room that was smiling. Let them say what they need to say, man.

Lee frowned, rather like an upper-class citizen would frown at a drunkard passed out in the gutter.

I wasn’t—I didn’t know that they pitched our idea to you already, Lee. Firky cast angry stares at Evans, Lyda, and Darr for not keeping him informed.

They did. My answer is no.

Like I knew it would be, thought Firky.

The atmosphere in the room changed from expectant to a piercing cold, having little to do with the wintery outdoors.

You haven’t even given the matter thought, Lyda accused. I spoke to you a mere two weeks ago, just after the first sacrifice.

Lee mustered up his dignity. "I have thought about it. I’ve got an answer for you. No. I should have answered you right when you asked the question, right when I first discovered your excuse of a gang or whatever it is you four call yourselves. I knew I wasn’t going to consider your request. Sorry for keeping you waiting, but—"

This is foolish! Why would you refuse—?

"—I believe I am gracious enough for not turning the four of you in. I assure you that if you contact me again, at all, for any reason, or attempt to interfere with the Sacrifice, or anything else that I—dislike—it will be the first thing I do."

The silence in the room was pronounced. They continued glaring at one another for a long time. Then Sirus broke it. He turned to look at the rest of them, an expression of innocence on his face.

"Lee has been… rather reluctant to tell me exactly what it is you’re after and… this doesn’t sit too well with me. I’m aware it has to do with the Sacrifice. Frankly, I believe this information has long been over-due to reach my ears. If you would be so kind as to enlighten me."

Any normal mind would have been astounded at the effort made to travel around the fact that he was the ignorant one in the room.

Evans put the tips of his fingers together and smirked, knowing that it killed Sirus to say that, brought him down a peg from whatever pedestal he had righteous belief to perch on.

"You know, Musil—or I don’t know, do you? Sirus’ eyebrows contracted. The Sacrifice might go on for a long time ‘n well… Lee’s already told us the nature of that Garmone girl. She has already confessed her wishes to remain mortal."

Evans intentionally brought it into the open. Firky briefly wondered if Sirus knew the truth of why they needed the immortality.

The four of them had a plan: A brilliant and terrible plan. Lyda was the one who thought of it, long ago when the four of them were confined in prison, solely in the company of dark thoughts to fuel it.

She is a stupid little child, Lyda said confidently. We will take what she doesn’t want. I will find a way to get it. There is nothing we cannot do.

Her confidence was, perhaps, well placed. She was a prodigy of minds: The way the mind of a prodigy worked and the subtle differences from the normal mind: The way they absorbed information and functioned on different frequencies and the unique way they displayed information to the conscious.

Having Evans as a deception prodigy in one hand, Darr a prodigy of war in the other, and Firky hovering in the background knowing when, how, and who to manipulate, Lyda was able to invent something incredibly terrible:

Her most prized invention was a neurotoxin. This neurotoxin would affect only the brain of a prodigy. Once the prodigy was exposed, their brain would shut down within twenty four hours. Every hour would be incredibly painful, as the toxin would cause the brain, within its own defense to stop it, to send messages to every inch of the body of unendurable agony. Even if there existed a way to counteract the side effect, Lyda didn’t particularly care for doing it.

The only problem was that it would kill her, too. That is, unless she was immortal.

The fact that Fay Garmone is foolishly throwing away an immortal life is of no cause for concern to you, Sirus spat at her. It is a completely irrelevant bit of information which is of no cause for concern to us either.

You are an idiot and you’re blinded, Lyda hissed. What is there to say this stupid girl will not fail? How could she remain competing without reward of a prize? What reason could possibly exist for her to continue?

It seemed they could not answer her. She tilted her head back smugly, pausing before continuing to allow the statement to sink in.

If it was granted to us, the Hunters would be dead. With the rest of the world’s ignorance to our technology, the possession of control would fall to us. If we brought them out into the normal mind world every soul on the planet will be certain that nothing could stop us.

That is not yet the case, Lee interjected. Nor will it ever be. You will not lay hands on the immortality. If it takes until I am dead, I will make sure of it.

Sirus looked out of the window as if he could suddenly see something they could not. He seemed to be having some type of nervous battle in his brain none of the rest could see or hear. For a while he merely stared, his eyes moving back and forth ever so subtly, growing narrower and narrower all the time. Everyone waited for him to speak.

Finally he found his voice. You’re not going to give it to them, are you Lee? he asked fiercely.

Of course I’m not going to give it to them.

Ludicrous, Lyda muttered harshly, now dangerously angry. Do you not see what it is we’re after? Why not join us? Guarantee your survival? Survive with us immortal and there will be no one on Earth that will not do as you command. Live forever in power. Or are you so unseeing that—

The only blind here are the criminals attempting to wage a war which will never come!

Then we will kill you before you can take it yourselves!

Kill us and you’ll return to your cage!

Lyda stamped into the middle of the fight, her body rocking back and forth with forced restraint. I’ll find you when you’re immortal, she hurled at Sirus. I will put you in a metal box with eighteen locks and throw you into the ocean. Then if I had to I’d swallow the swiftest poison and let the secret of where you are eternally suffering die with me.

Steff got in Lyda’s face, identical scowls stared the other down. You’re one sick, twisted—

Darr rose out of his seat. Sirus stepped in.

HEY! HEY! Evan’s pushed everyone roughly apart as they all closed in on one another. His forearm punched into Lee’s chest, causing him to stagger.

Lee’s mouth twisted in anger. Touch me again and I’ll cut your head off, Hunter.

To this day, Lee had never met anyone other than Hunter Evans who hated so intensely to be called by his first name.

Don’t, his voice shook dangerously, don’t call me that, for the last time, Yellen.

Dropping all forms of reservation, he moved in for the attack.

With a whoosh Lee’s cane swung out of nowhere and made contact with the side of Evan’s head. The resounding crack could be heard throughout the room. Evans staggered a little, but it didn’t prevent him from grabbing the front of Lee’s coat and forcing him fast against the wall with a loud thud!

There were many shouts of rage from everyone in the room, but also yelled reminders they were unable to hurt one another.

They had agreed: If anything happened to Lee, then Sirus or Steff would turn Evans, Firky, Lyda, and Darr over to the Hunters and send them back to prison. If anything happened to the four of them, they would tell everyone that Lee had broken a rule of the Sacrifice and his team would lose. Either way, nobody won.

Evans regained himself slowly from the recoil at the use of his first name. Perhaps it was simply a reminder of who he used to be before he was thrown into prison by his own comrades.

They all hated the Establishment for making them suffer; Evans hated himself for once being part of it; the ever searching prodigies of deception whom it was impossible to lie to. There was never an accidental imprisonment. He had put prodigies in there himself, as none could lie to Hunter Evans.

However, it was only next to impossible. Firky had been one of the only to discover a way around his gift. He had learned, by way of his own prodigy, that it wasn’t Evans he had to convince, it was Lyda. It was the one flaw in his prodigy; if she believed it, he believed it.

The two men remained gripping each other’s clothing, standing offensively close, looking livid. Lee took a small step back before speaking. I have nothing more to say to you all. I’d advise you to stay out of Wunderkind. You can be the normal mind’s problem. Whatever it is you’re planning, bring it to them. I can promise you when all is done, you will be lost and forgotten, and it will be me with eternal life.

Steff looked at Lee for a moment as if in internal debate. "I’m an official of the Sacrifice, Yellen, I can just as easily—"

Unfortunately for you, so am I, said Sirus, louder over the conversation. "So I have a say in what goes on as well as you do. I won’t let them touch it.

"This is the all-inclusive reason we finally organized the Sacrifice. The entire public eye is upon the competition and its prize. That keeps the four of you away from it. I’ll sooner see it destroyed than in your hands. I think it’s safe to say Mr. Yellen will do the same."

Lee then took a step forward with a measurable amount of dictation. If you possess any level of intelligence, you would let go of this now. There exist no method for you to get it. You will never have it. Divergent to your popular belief, I know exactly what it is I’m doing.

He looked into the face of everyone in the room, personally closing the conversation with each of them before leaving. It would be a wintery day in the desert before he ever pursued another.

It was stroppy for a moment, them speaking as though they were acquaintances leaving a party when they wanted nothing more than to start maiming each other.

 . . . Get out of my house, Firky said darkly.

You’re denying the wrong people, Darr threatened dangerously, a final attempt to reason.

Ah, Mr. Gherrett… we’re prodigies, too, remember? Sirus conceded, managing a smile at him from the opened door.

Lee openly grinned at Sirus’ comment. Coming Zuro? he asked, daring him to say no.

Yes, he said mater-of-factly, pushing his arms though the sleeves of his coat with a little more force than necessary. He took one last look around the room and grudgingly led the way out of Firky’s dank house. Lee and Sirus followed, closing the grimy door with a snap behind them.

We need it, concluded Lyda desperately. There is no other way…

Evans looked up. Give him time to let his thoughts stew. Once he realizes what he’s letting slip through his fingers, we’ll have him on all fours. He’ll give it to us. He’s no fool.

Exactly, said Lyda angrily. I don’t do well with maybes. It’s time to find a sure thing.

They spent much more time dwelling on Lee’s decision than he did, particularly because they were the ones being thwarted by it. None of them slept at all peacefully that night: The arguments were still running through their heads, turning over and over, determined to find a weak spot, an opportunity for black mail or murder or stealth.

I had the perfect chance to kill the bastard, she whispered bitterly, remembering bending over him while he slumbered, completely defenseless, some six and a half months before to retrieve a certain invitation

Lyda rolled over on the couch in Firky’s living room. He had asked them to stay overnight rather than risk being seen by his neighbors. She bit down on the arm of the sofa she was using for a pillow in a weird, almost sadistic way as she brooded over the prospect of failing to persuade Lee Yellen. She felt her teeth satisfyingly break through