BOOK EXCERPT: Edwin Phylis and the Tales Within Darkness

By Omoruyi Uwuigiaren

CHAPTER ONE

Ugly Night

A blanket of blackness descended upon the city. Bats swooped and swirled across the sky, leaving their silhouettes against the moon. The old wizard’s prophecy of tragedy was about to be fulfilled. The Feast of a Thousand Necks was imminent.

Darkness descended upon Dempsey, a ravaged ancient city where godlessness stalked the streets. The hands of despair crippled the day, swallowed smiles, and strangled thoughts. Mischief, however, was far from over.

In this world of penitent dogs, the destiny of many rested on the shoulders of the bravest. Fate cuts off the weak. The mighty have fallen. No one leaves anything to chance. Life fades on the face of the beautiful earth.

He who dares to win must not hesitate to wield his sword. The sword of honour, the pain of sorrow, and the gain of valour exist on a different level. Yet, they all answer the call of man.

Death is inevitable, but a swift strike might offer a chance for survival. To hold back one’s weapon is to surrender one’s neck to death, a fate that unleashes its venomous instinct, leaving only a trail of waste in its wake.

Only the strong and obedient could endure the horrors of a night pregnant with evil intentions.

Twig, my shrewd and slim neighbour, was a prodigious snorer. His nocturnal symphonies reached Olympian heights and disrupted the tranquillity of the surrounding area. In the realm, perhaps such cacophony was a curious anomaly. But in my world, it was a significant disturbance, sheer dominance from the corridors of hell.

Restlessness permeated the air as I struggled to sleep. My eyes were heavy, and my body felt as though it was drowning. The malevolent forces lurking in the troubled village exploited my vulnerability.

I yearned for solace that would ease the strain on my weary eyes. Milk me or kill me. Once peace arrived, I would be more resilient than a fugitive facing an uncertain future. When happiness assumed control of my life, I embraced joy.

I prayed that comfort would soon find its rightful place within my heart. Living in peace is power, and silence is a thorn in the flesh of my critics.

A rare battle raged within me, of conviction, of identity. Few write in stone. On one hand lay the common struggle of those who have achieved success; on the other, the disappointment of having no achievements on the table. Wastelands seemed better. Dunghills appeared as paradise.

My poor soul was caught between both extremes.

Flirting from one end to another, searching for what was never missing. Sometimes, merely gazing into space could be problematic.

But every day, it is an achievement to open my eyes to the light of the world. I counted my blessings.

Fix my pain and choose my Maker. It’s a free world, but it’s a war without end. I die to live. I live to die.

Leaders often fill their minds with ambitious plans and innovative ideas that enrich their lives and elevate their status.
Yet, my heart harboured a burden, destructive thoughts that threatened to consume me and wreak havoc.

These conflicting emotions tore me apart. I felt lost, existing in a state of chaos. For a troubled mind, sorrow is an inevitable companion. Evil intentions paved the road to recovery.

Hard to please. Hard to admit. Nothing is more terrifying than the loss of oneself.
A suffocating silence hung in the air. Green leaves stood motionless on the tree branches.

The moon lingered in the sky, casting a weak glow over the desolate landscape a grim reminder of dark days, accompanied by the stars.

Mere embers of their former brilliance offered a skeletal outline of the heavens and a faded testament to the universe’s grand design.

CHAPTER TWO

Maggof

Out of the belly of the night, a monstrous bird its neck adorned with a severed human head perched on the roof. There was no mirth in its eyes, only a cruel, predatory gleam.

This creature, a harbinger of doom, was a tyrant whose heart was a barren wasteland devoid of compassion.

On a day suffused with sorrow, even its mere breath could extinguish the life of a fragile dove. Its large, malevolent eyes held terrifying power, enough to send a hundred men fleeing in terror.

CHAPTER THREE

Edwin Phylis

Startled by the unnatural sound, I scanned the darkness, searching for answers and the source of the chilling apparition.

A primal instinct warned me to be vigilant, to remain alert to the dangers lurking in the shadows.

As I surveyed the room, my gaze darting from wall to ceiling, a wave of unease washed over me. Finally, I buried my face in the worn-out mattress, seeking solace from the unsettling sight.

The sound, however, seemed to have subsided and faded into the background like a distant memory. Nothing happened, it seemed.

My imagination grabbed me by the neck and pinned me to the wall.

As I kicked, trying to free myself, it slammed me onto the concrete. I let out an agonised cry. Misery stared at me. Despair took its toll. Had I fallen from grace? Life and death are an expensive trip. Grab the bait and live. Run away and die.

I convinced myself it was a mere figment of my imagination—a trick of the wind, a casualty of the tumultuous storm that had raged. The room fell into an eerie silence, a suffocating stillness that pressed down on me. I felt myself being drawn into the abyss, swallowed whole by the encroaching darkness.

I yearned for the oblivion of sleep, a respite from the horrors lurking in the dark. A painful slumber on the rickety bed was preferable to the suffocating embrace of a stranger—an embrace that could end life like a sorcerer’s spell.

CHAPTER FOUR

Owl

The creature on the roof was ugly. Its face was a roadmap of wrinkles. It shifted like a predator sizing up its prey. There was a chilling cruelty in its every movement, a malevolent intent that could send shivers down any spine.

From beneath its wing, it produced a wicked-looking club.

The vicious thorns studding its surface proved its sadistic nature. The king of terror had finally emerged—ready to hurl blows and thunder at the slightest provocation.

The creature took a few menacing steps forward, its gaze sweeping across the night like an evening wolf assessing the damage after a bloody hunt.

A hulking owl, larger than any ever seen, emerged from the cruel hands of the night and settled onto the roof beside the creature. It was a sight that would have sent chills down the spine of the bravest man a chilling reminder that the night held far more than just shadows.

The owl rubbed its talons together, and a low, guttural chuckle rumbled in its chest.
“Maggof,” Owl said, his voice a chilling whisper. “I trust you haven’t forgotten our agreement?”

Maggof nodded with a twisted smile. “Indeed,” the creature hissed. “But I see no reason to let this opportunity slip through our claws. When I’m finished with him, he won’t even recognise himself.”

The owl took a predatory step closer. “I trust you won’t deviate from our original plan, Maggof?”

“Of course not,” Maggof said. “But if the need arises, if it’s the only way to ensure our success, then eliminating him becomes a necessity. Better to silence him permanently than to risk his vengeance later.”

The owl inhaled and said, “We must adhere to our original plan, Maggof. Time is of the essence. Others will arrive soon.”

He turned and surveyed the scene below. “Who will be the first to enter the room?” he asked, returning his gaze to Maggof, who already had his fist clenched and his formidable club resting on his broad shoulder.

“I will,” Maggof said, lowering his weapon.
“Proceed then,” Owl said. “As I mentioned before, we must resolve this matter tonight. Arad and Kalendah are the sole arbiters of the boy’s destiny.”
“Okay,” Maggof said.

The owl, whose head was as bad as a poorly decorated coffin, continued watching as Maggof disappeared into the room below.

About the book

It begins with strange occurrences in a small room and escalates into a brutal war for survival.

Edwin’s quiet life shatters when he realises that the malevolent Maggof and Owl plaguing him are tied to his parents’ tragic deaths.

There is no end in sight to his dilemma if he refuses to bow to Kalendah, the god of his ancestors.

Unaware that his every move is being watched, Edwin must confront dark forces, including Fagos, the despicable king of bats, and Mud the Monster, to uncover the truth and stay alive.

Maggof warns that if Edwin does not uncover why his parents died, he will follow them to the grave. But Edwin is no ordinary boy; he possesses a unique quality, though whether it is sorcery remains to be seen.

The fight with Maggof is only the beginning of sorrow. One morning, after eating a bird, something inexplicably transports Edwin to another world, where he meets Mud the Monster, who instantly takes a dislike to him.

The creature seizes every opportunity to kill him. Edwin leaves a town with two companions: Goosef and an old friend who prefers to remain in the shadows.
The journey takes him back to where it all began.

What separates Edwin Phylis from his destiny is a formidable forest where trees resist anyone not allied with them. Goosef, however, knows how to speak their language, and Edwin will need patience to master this art.

To protect his foster father, Twig, Klause is tempted to take up arms. If he does, it will reignite an old rivalry on many fronts. Klause is never in the good books of Maggof and Owl.

It is only a matter of time before they clash again. Meanwhile, two sinister figures from the underworld, Arad and Kalendah, the four-headed beast, know Edwin’s true destiny and will stop at nothing to ensure he never becomes the powerful force they fear.