God's Revenge

or

‘dag av blod’

REEKFEEL

Continuing Stieg Larsson's Millennium Series.

This is a work of fanfiction, not for commercial use. It is for personal entertainment.

A free book.

The storyline is Copyright to the Author.

The identified characters: ‘Lisbeth Salander’ and 'Mikael Blomkvist' and 'Miriam Wu' and 'Jan Bublanski' and 'Alexander Zalachenko' and 'Monica Figuerola' and 'Marcus Erlander' and 'Camilla Salander' are the intellectual property of the Estate of the late Stieg Larsson (all rights reserved)

For more details about this book, including Easter Eggs, please visit -

reekfeelauthor.wordpress.com

ALSO BY REEKFEEL

BLOGGING YOUR HEART OUT

TRIMURTI ONE — Vishnu the Preserver

IN DREAMS : A Fairytale

MR SKRIMSHAW'S PICTUREBOOK

THE DEVIL'S PICTUREBOOK : The Secret of the Tarot revealed as an esoteric fairytale

[A Game of Thrones type fantasy novel]

EINSTEIN A GO-GO : An ingenious 1900s student scientist comedy

[Paris, 1900. And Albert Einstein's wacky student days]

STARFALL : An epic supernatural oddity

[An unconventional novel full of mad characters employing esoteric tricks and jokes throughout all Space-Time]

WEST OF WEDNESDAY : A Lovecraftian Mythos Mystery novella

[Warning : This has a deep evil in it. A new impossible book]

GOD’S REVENGE

TITLE PAGE

PROLOGUE

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

EPILOGUE

BOOK FIVE

BOOK SIX

BOOKS BY REEKFEEL

PROLOGUE

Sunday 30.4.95

Two shadows encircling at the ready drawn.

Breathing hard and hearts screaming.

Sudden sharp darts pummelling deep.

Grips enticing: hands lost, clothes lost.

Reconnected sweeps lifting snap-downs.

Punch crack. Pillows sail.

Shrieks again they clash, meet and tear.

Reasserting flowing forms merge again in couplegrip entanglement.

Single leg trip into spin spiral ride.

Pointbursting backflesh spladdled for a cross body ride.

Locks seeked but wriggling butt-drags out.

A kicking foot contacts forcing separation.

Back again quickly, the blood up swearing.

Switch reswitch.

Underhooks groped, pins pry.

Double-leg drives, twisting deflections.

Grunts echoing.

Inside arm drag, elbow pulls forces again the position.

Hip-heist shrugs but quickly a wrapping of arms.

Head and arm levers, arm bars.

Tilt-loading.

They fall again into a Jacob’s ride.

Elbows stabbing, fingers poking.

Then a vengeful guillotine.

And screams.

Spectacularly a lift and sweep. Smashing down.

Shredded fabric drift in the snow of feathers.

The two depart with split lips and black eyes amongst other soreness.

PART ONE

ARTIFICIAL SELECTION

Friday 16.6.6

- the most impossible

- practical fucking pig

- vandals

CHAPTER ONE

There she was. Just woken. Just awoken from that nightmare. The same again. These past nights.

Lisbeth laid sprawled. The single damp sheet ruckled about her body. Face buried in cushions and legs up against the wall, ass up, thighs in midair. It had been a hot night and the breathing body to her side didn’t help. She went to sleep sore but happy, tired out and shimmering sensitive. She felt it linger about her body.

But still that lasting image. That black beast animal, wolf bear panther, fixed in her mind. She was running away. The shame. Oh sure, to phone the police and ambulance. Her excuse. But she left them dying. Mauled by the deadly beast. Why did they start to attack it? It only entered out of curiosity. Her nearest and dearest. She fled fast. But even then she hardly made any progress as she soon tripped up; and on all fours scrambled deeper and deeper. Why? I can’t tell anyone this. There is no good side to it.

Miriam Wu kicked during her sleep.

Still unravelling her head, Lisbeth slid her leg down and slinked to a cooler part of the cotton. A brief check of her eyes. The brightness of the blood on the white sheets. Wu looked at her. Gnashing claw marks down her face and neck. Lolling on her side of the bed.

Startled, she looked closer. It was that face. She had last seen peeping round her door with murderous intent. But more memorably ripped open from her axe. Zalachenko’s face rolled into her. Breathless screaming he was laughing out. Its rancid breath spitting blood and bits onto her.

Lisbeth double-shot, raised, twisted and crawled on the bed. Get away. Her fiercest instincts snarled away. Shot-through, turning again, it was gone. Mimmi lay on the bed murmuring, waking to her. Lisbeth, in her hurry, had pulled the sheet right to. Nothing. No threat. Just Mimmi’s plump flesh.

Too early, Mimmi groped, rubbing herself.

Not again, she said.

From what she saw from her eyes she half expected the naked girl kneeling on the bed to jump her. She braced herself.

Lisbeth strove down behind her and sighed. Mimmi turned into the cuddle and kissed her.

What’s wrong? she said.

Oh nothing.

Come on.

It was nothing! Lisbeth said giving that look Mimmi was used to.

You’re the most impossible person I know, Mimmi said turning away.

I know you have sex with other people just to avoid conversation, but you’re straight from Dottyville as regards real intimacy. I don’t know why you don’t get pregnant from all those easy men you sleep with. General paralysis of the insane.

Lisbeth listened in scornful silence as Mimmi reached to the bedside table and pulled the hand-mirror to. In a half circle she swept it into her face.

Look at yourself.

Lisbeth bent forward and peered at the mirror held out at her. Features she knew too well, still screaming out at her. Angular wrong-sided pieces held about a perfect button-nose. The only good thing about this Frankenstein face. Who chose this face for me?

She looked away. She was tired of the ugliness of it. She didn’t care. Her eyes drifted about the floating lights outside. Blinking out.

You won’t kneel down and do it. Why? Mimmi enquired and answered, because you have the cursed strain on you, only it’s injected the wrong way.

Pulses were beating in Lisbeth’s eyes, veiling their sight, and she felt the fever in her cheeks.

You know I don’t talk about that! Lisbeth flashed at her.

I know you’ve been treated unfairly but…

It seems history is to blame. What I am running away from, Lisbeth interrupted.

Mimmi put the mirror away and replaced it with a packet of Marlboro Lights. Passing one over to Lisbeth, they both slouched against the headboard as they lit up, looking ahead their nakedness reflected back against the night window.

Miriam Wu exhaled a cloud.

I mean, you’re not a believer, are you? In the narrow sense of the word. Creation from nothing and miracles and a personal god.

There’s only one sense of the word, it seems to me.

Oh yes?

You behold in me, Lisbeth said with grim displeasure, a horrible example of free thought.

Wu laughed.

And there was me fearing like father like son… or daughter. A ghost of your father. The father was himself his own son.

Enough! Lisbeth interrupted, There are three things not to be trusted: the horn of a bull, the hoof of a horse and the call of the wild.

You’d have to be some sort of Uebermensch to get away from it.

I’m no hero.

Well maybe after a few, Mimmi joked.

You may be free, but you’re still drowning, she continued.

Yeah, I have my masters now. Like everyone else. It’s a sorry thing to be emboldened unto.

They’re bastards, those paparazzi.

Lisbeth looked down.

Well you have hats, Mimmi finished.

Wu yawned.

Well, I’m awake now… Hmm… a shower.

Mimmi slid to the edge. She knocked a clonking thing down which she picked up to examine.

Yours I presume. Your Mjolnir!

Wu rose and walked off, her buttocks rising and falling. She looked over her shoulder.

Are you not coming in?

Lisbeth finished her smoke, thinking, and stubbed it out violently. She slunk down and rolled and rolled the sheet around her. Her eyes glinting, then shut with a relief to the sounds of Mimmi singing though the rain and smoke.

Silently he comes to her after his death, his wasted body within its loose brown grave clothes giving off an odour of wax, his breath, that had bent upon her, with mute secret words, a faint odour of wetted ashes.

Her father’s face half ripped off. The rest melted into itself. Howling eyes alive after her. A deep chuckle gurgles up. Blood coughing up but still it laughs. The bang floods the face molten red with gleams of white and twisted turns of black. But still it laughs, despite there being hardly anything left. But still it lives. Laughing, laughing and laughing at her. Echoing though her head, chattering her teeth. Alive. Alive in her.

Lisbeth’s legs had gone. She couldn’t feel them, nor anything else. Why again?

Another day. Re-awake from this existence. Flinging her mind about, settling upon different layers of mental reality. One as convincing as any other. Even the alien mindscapes to wander about. Her body had gone. To exist without a body or turned into something different. Something higher, or is it lower? The non-human life forms are the best; no pain or worry or threat there.

Dark outside. What time is it? What day? Startled, Lisbeth looked about, confused. Her brain unsure. Doubts and what? The sound of the shower and singing. The smell of fags. The lights outside. Check. I remember. Remember now. But still trapped. Unable to move. Shit what is happening to me. I am losing things. Misplacing parts of my body. This there and that. What is that?

Her mind refocusing, remembering. Sucked back into place. With the rest of her. Gripping the sheet tight, she relaxed.

Wu returned back in, patting herself down with a towel.

You OK? she asked.

. . . .

CRASH. BANG!

FUCK OFF THEN!

OK!

. . . .

Wu reflected in the window in the bobbing lights. What had just happened?

. . . .

Look, I’ve been thinking about this, Lisbeth said, for me to tell you ‘what’s up’, we need… we need, like, a binding contract. Something special. Like what if we were to… to get… married.

. . . .

Lisbeth stood watching the coffeemaker, tending a split-lip. Still dark outside, she noticed.

From her hideaway apartment in Fiskargatan, her mind wandered and reflected what had just happened. Taken away. Denied. The feeling of losing. What went wrong? But I’m the one that said so. I’m the one that makes it.

. . . .

Marry! Are you kidding! Wu exclaimed.

I have new masters now. Trying to do it their way.

A civil marriage!

Cast me into a sticky darkness, forever. My eternal sin. Stop licking my soul in shame. I’m sorry Mimmi.

Well it would mean a lot to me. Settle me down, Lisbeth said.

You’re crazy! I told you trouble follows you about. Remember.

Might be sad. Might be fun. Might be weird. Unfinished beginnings.

You’re too unpredictable. All or nothing. Like how sex for you is the same thing as death. Easy to kill. Easy to fuck. It’s in your… genes.

It’s an extreme want to have sex with you and have you like me, Lisbeth said, it is extremely warm and exciting when someone else climaxes comes near you in you, but mainly the warmth.

Wu just looked at her.

What are you afraid of then? Lisbeth asked.