The Vagrant Read Online Free PDF

sits back as the messenger speeds on its way. Her skirt of limbs twitches in anticipation; with the Usurper’s favour comes the promise of completion.
    She does not hear the soft whisper from beyond her doorway nor does she see the fly fork downwards from the air, landing twice, the message flecking the floor.
    Casually, the door yawns open, drawing her attention.
    The Vagrant enters, sword first, humming softly.
    Between them the winged insects buzz their distress, they throw themselves against furniture, against each other, unable to escape the blood that vibrates within them.
    The sound builds, shaking the Overseer’s skull. She rises, stretching her body out to its full size, shadow sprawling behind, nightmarish.
    In answer, the Vagrant raises his blade. At its hilt, silvered wings unfurl.
    An eye opens.
    Two storm-heads of sound build: infernal wings and dying insects vying with steel-bound song.
    The Overseer sizes up her adversary, copied many times by her compound eyes. Each image is still and waiting. She falters under the glare of the sword; it hates her in ways she cannot fathom, stirring feelings of fear, of shame. Normally she would crush a man without thought but instinct tells her to be cautious.
    Subtly the sound changes.
    With no preamble or announcement, the Overseer moves first, reaching into a drawer.
    In four steps the Vagrant has crossed the room, his blade stretching out for her across the desk. His mouth opens with the stroke, a mournful note blending with the sword’s voice, igniting the air lightning blue.
    Squealing, the half-breed leaps back, avoiding humming metal, shrivelling wherever flames touch her monstrous body. In her human hand she now holds a gun, ugly and battered and ready to kill.
    The Vagrant freezes. There is little cover in the cramped room and less time to think. He spins to the left, blade pointed downwards, silver wings reaching to protect his face.
    Six times, the gun shouts angrily, spitting its hot metal phlegm. Four are lost to the air, one is foiled by the sword, ringing out in fury but the last finds its mark, slamming the Vagrant against a moist wall.
    Frantically the gun clicks, its voice momentarily spent. The Overseer begins to reload, many of the bullets spill hastily on the floor, rolling among the dead flies.
    By the time she has raised the smoking weapon again the Vagrant has stood and drawn breath. He rushes forward, she squeezes the trigger. The barrel flashes but this time does not shout, yielding to the Vagrant’s song. There is a wet smack as the Overseer’s hand strikes the floor, leaving a stump waving in the air, pink and crazy.
    Pain lances all thought from the half-breed and she latches her many limbs to the desk, its metal legs screeching as they’re ripped from the ground. With a grunt she hurls it down on her enemy.
    He answers with a long cry as he blocks, sadness counterpointing the wrathful resonance of the sword. The desk crashes to the floor, once, twice. Neither half touches the Vagrant.
    There is a flurry of movement, a mix of arms and sword, of man and half-breed, of bestial grunts and sharp song. When it is over, the Overseer lies prostrate and limbless, a grotesque pear-shape.
    He plunges the sword deep into her. Fire burns blue, devouring the corpse greedily, until only charred chunks remain.
    An eye closes.
    The Vagrant hurries along the path. It is dark and starless. From their shelters people hear him stumble. They do not yet understand what has happened but they sense that change is coming and they tremble.
    Neon letters sputter into view. They hang above a doorway where stronger lights blaze, telling a story of violence within.
    Outside a man lingers, uncertain. He turns towards the Vagrant, squinting.
    ‘Stranger, is that you? It’s me, Ventris. Looks like you got here just in time. A whole bunch of guys showed up just now and barged their way into Lil’s. I heard an explosion, suns knows what that was! Then gunfire and now,