Skulduggery Pleasant - Night of the Dying Rose

Sneak Peek to City of The Dead

His goals had changed. His morals had changed. He was once again driven by rage at the loss of someone important to him. His jokes had become fewer since the months she had been dead, his words being replaced with determination and vengeance, determination to bring her back, vengeance towards the traitor who had the taken name of Tanith Low. He had many questions still, but until she was back, he didn't care about them. Not anymore. He'd spent months trying to find a way to undo what had been done, he'd lost count how many months, but he knew he was close. So damn close. He was following a lead, being the Detective he had managed to keep a hold of through it all. His searching has brought him back to Africa, that time with her seeming so long ago now, and the Pyramid of The Brides of Blood Tears stood silently in the distance. Six years ago, Darquesse had decimated everyone in there, but within that time, new mages had taken in the Pyramid as their base, their shelter. It was no longer the Pyramid of The Brides of Blood Tears. It was now called The Pyramid of The Forsaken. Home to the rejected mages of the world, those so twisted they could not be trusted, but so dangerous that no Gaol could hold them. Skulduggery Pleasant looked at the Pyramid, and felt no fear, no hesitation to the goal at hand. If anyone got in his way, they'd be met with magic and bullets. He was done following the rules, he was done holding back his brutality.

 He felt like Lord Vile again, but he had just chosen the grey side. 

Skulduggery made his way down the sand dune, and headed for the entrance to the Pyramid. Two men were standing guard, both intimidating with their features, both brimming with power. Skulduggery didn't care. He stopped before them, and spoke in a voice he had become more and more accustomed to as his desperation grew. Coarse as sand, and thinning with patience.

"Step aside." Skulduggery growled. 

The guards, both elementals like him, surveyed Skulduggery with cold calculation, sizing him up. Strike One.

The guard on the left, bald, plain looking, yet heavy with muscles, spoke in a low, unimpressive voice.

"You have no business here Mr Pleasant, and if you do, then I'm afraid you will have to wait until that business has left the building."

"I said Step. Aside." Skulduggery repeated, his growl turning into a snarl. Strike Two.

The left guard spoke again, the right hand guard sneering. "We won't be doing that Mr Pleasant, your presence is not wanted here. So turn around, and leave. This doesn't have to get ugly. We're folk who want to be left alone. So leave now, while you still have the chance."

Strike. Three.

Skulduggery moved his fingers, curling them slowly, and the air around the guards necks grew heavy, too heavy for their necks to bear. And both necks broke with a sickening snap. Skulduggery stepped over their dead bodies, and looked at the entrance.

He had one task here, find the mage who had the knowledge he wished to seek. Find Delara Noctis. Get her answers. And if she resisted, or anyone. They would all die. Skulduggery didn't care which one of him did the killing, himself, or his armour. He was fairly sure they were on the same boat now.

Skulduggery took out his gun, checked it was fully loaded. And strode into the Pyramid. 

He fired three bullets within moments of entering.