Chapter 32: Carcass Mail
Chapter 32: Carcass Mail
Oliver sat perched on the thick, gnarled branch of the cactus tree, breathing heavily as he pulled the needle-like thorns from his body one by one. Each sting was a sharp reminder of the pain, but he barely flinched. In his previous life as a slave, he had endured far worse than this. Compared to the whips, the starvation, the fangs, the abuse, the hopeless nights — this was nothing.
One by one, the thorns came out, tiny punctures riddling his body like a worn-out cloth. Yet, curiously, no blood flowed from the wounds. Just as he suspected.
No matter how injured I get… bleeding out won't kill me.
Honestly not a bad gift from the blood flowing in his veins. Dying of blood loss was not a nice way to go. But the wounds still hurt.
Then again, Oliver was not so foolish as to believe that a deadly blow would not kill him. Also, there were other ways to die outside blood loss.
And in the somara empire, there were at least a thousand of them.
He looked down at the scorpions prowling below, then up at the burning red sun that hung heavily in the sky. It was blisteringly hot. His body ached. But he was alive.
At that thought, a small chuckle escaped his lips. It grew, bubbling up into full-blown laughter, raw and victorious. It was reckless. It was dangerous. It was human.
The bloodline will — the floating, bloodied skull that haunted his every step — tilted slightly, regarding him like one would a madman.
><"Are you going crazy already?"> it asked, its voice dripping with amusement. <"Or is the heat cooking what’s left of your brain?">
Oliver snapped his head toward it, his grin fading into a scowl. "Shut the hell up," he growled. "You didn't lift a damn finger to help. You're nothing but a pain in the ass."