The Sorcerer Gaumata has lost the Throne of Persia to the true king, Darius. He has also lost his own body, but it is still going well. He has managed to possess Mihr, son of the powerful sorcerers Rustem and Anahita. He should have known they would retaliate. Not only have they now forced him to give up his beautiful, new vessel, but they also forced him into the vile body of a fly. As if this were not insult enough, Gaumata learns that they have managed to save their unborn baby, Antiochus.
Gaumata has sunken so low that he knows that the only way is up. Years have passed and Gaumata has been able to safely inhabit the body of a weaker, minor dragon. He plots his revenge. He must kill Antiochus, but he can’t do it alone. With the assistance of two trusted men, Gnel the Evil and Papyan the Sinner, Gaumata is now on the brink of success. How was he to know that the killing of Antiochus would produce a horror even worse than he anticipated? How was he to know that his evil acts would give birth to two powerful werewolves bent on his destruction?
The hunger was acute as Papyan the Sinner looked at the heap they were poised to fight over. He felt himself drooling profusely, but when he noticed the great tendrils of saliva that hung from the other man’s mouth, he was terrified. Papyan the Sinner knew he must have the prize or die trying to get it. His arms swung back and forth as he tried to menace his opponent. “You bag of chicken shit, I’ll use your hide to wipe my ass,” he screamed, his voice pitching too high.
In a blur the two men attacked each other.
They were suddenly wrenched apart and were both overcome with the stench. Each man felt on his shoulder a horny claw that held him in a death grip. They went limp like kittens held by the scruff of the neck.
“What have we here, my two pups?” a voice growled. It seemed to come from the bottom of the never-ending cave, and was drenched in an evil so pure that it was mesmerizing. “You are fighting over this while forgetting what I called you for!” the throaty voice chuckled. The reek that emanated from his mouth was a mixture of decayed flesh and the cloying, fetid smell of a very large reptile.
“I need you to make yourselves useful. There is a man who must die, for with my power, I can see that he will be a problem for me if he is allowed to develop. One of you will have the job of killing him and his entire family now, while he is weak. The other will be there to help if there is a mishap.” He eyed them with a look that was primeval and reptilian. Both the men shivered. He threw them to the ground roughly. With one sharp talon he divided the large mound that was between them. It was a mound of the Sorcerer Gaumata’s excrement that they had been fighting over. Both the men trembled with renewed desire, but the creature backhanded them, his scaly skin stinging like a thousand scorpions.