The Beast's Mark: Emunah Chronicles, #2

By Janice Wee

Emunah Chronicles: The Beast's Mark is an electrifying rollercoaster of emotion, power, and conspiracy, where a once utopian Earth veers into a harrowing dystopia under the reign of the cryptic Beast. As whispers of a worldwide vanishing point towards a shadowy plan, a new hierarchy rises with a currency more sinister than gold – a mark only the chosen bear.

 

Embark on a journey with a cast of characters caught in a tempest of their own making. Friendships will be strained and alliances tested as they navigate through a labyrinth where every turn holds betrayal or bloodshed. The mark of the Beast promises power, but at what cost?

Author Janice Wee crafts a world that is vividly haunting, with an intricate plot that will keep you hooked till the very last page. Perfect for fans of dystopian thrillers and those who savor a tale with rich characters and a pulse-pounding storyline.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Janice Wee
• Release date: Jun 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223989080

Janice Wee

Janice Wee is Straits Born Chinese from Singapore. She is a sixth generation Singaporean, the daughter of two English teachers and who spent her childhood in libraries. Learn more about the worlds and characters in her stories in her website janicewee.com

Book preview

Eclipse of The Four Horsemen

The metallic smell of blood enveloped Logan - the red stain on wool, spreading as the Lamb died. Logan’s heart bled for the innocent one.

Then the Lamb’s eyes snapped open.

Logan heart missed a beat. The dead Lamb, now alive, exuded power, the magnitude of which, immeasurable. Yet His eyes, so gentle, so genuine, assuaged the trembling man’s fear.

Wh.. who are you? Calm enveloped Logan as the words fell from his lips.

Light, too brilliant to bear, blinded Logan.

When his vision returned, he watched with morbid fascination as the Lamb broke open a seal, setting into motion the events that would lead to the end of the world.

In an instant, Logan found himself standing within a man-made utopia. A sweet, hypnotic fragrance embraced him, tantalizing his senses. His head swirled with heady pleasure. Around him, men, women and children, their faces ecstatic, gathered around a handsome man seated on a white horse. This regal man carried a bow with no arrows. His tranquil smile welcomed everyone, though Logan caught a wicked glint in the man’s cold eyes. A chill ran up his spine.

The man on the white horse beckoned at Logan. A magnetic force drew Logan towards the enigmatic man, his feet taking one step after another towards the white horse, though his mind screamed No!

A mob gathered around the man, demanding that he rule the entire world. As they raised him on a throne, his white horse turned red.

The man sat on his now red horse, his handsome visage peeled away, exposing the demon within. Logan shuddered in horror at the grotesque reveal.

The skies turned fiery red. The man on the red horse wielded a massive sword, rallying his troops.

Tranquility evaporated, replaced by irrational rage. Logan felt rage within every ounce of his being bubble, overflowing as peace gave way to war.

Brothers shed one another’s blood. Every man fought for himself with swords, knives, guns and any weapon they could lay hands on.

Planes soared above raining bombs.

Molotov cocktails struck buildings, vehicles and any unfortunate souls in their way. Screams of agony, roars of anger consumed the city.

The beautiful Utopia gave way to charred ruin.

As the sky blackened, so did the horse. The man who rode the black horse held a pair of balances.

Hunger gnawed on Logan. His stomach threatened to digest itself, his legs too weak to carry him for lack of fuel. The faces around him, once well fed and content, now gaunt. Ravenous. Their bodies skeletal for lack of food.

With the remnants of his meagre strength, he dragged himself to the nearest stall in the market. A few small loaves of bread, though stale, looked delectable to the starving man.

How much? He rasped, pointing at one.

The exorbitant price made him baulk. Rummaging through his pockets, he hadn’t enough gold for the smallest bun.

The black horse turned pale. Its rider turned towards him.

Logan found himself looking into the empty eyes of the grim reaper.

He jolted awake, dripping with cold sweat. Heart palpitating, he was too disturbed to sleep. He channel surfed.

In the wake of the Great Vanishing or Abduction or Rapture, the news channels have been a mish mash of conspiracy theories mingled with reports