Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 130317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Hot words rose to Chud’s lips, but he swallowed them back down—though they almost choked him.
“Sorry, Professor,” he muttered, casting her a resentful look.
“I’m putting a note in your file,” Professor Higgly lectured. “Next time you’re late, you’ll be up for a performance review and I very much doubt you’ll pass it, Mr. Brumpkin!”
“Won’t happen again,” Chud muttered, not meeting her sharp grey eyes. Bitch! She would be the first one on her knees if he had his way, he decided. She’d taste the pain of punishment and she’d be grateful to serve him—a superior male.
He made his way down the hall but once he heard her office door click closed and knew she wasn’t staring at him anymore, he made a hard left into the bowels of the History building.
Chud’s aim was the Antiquities Collection. It was the pride of the University but there was so much old shit back there, nobody knew what all of it was. Not even that old bitch, Professor Higgly knew. On occasion, Chud had liberated one or two small pieces and sold them on the Outernet—the electronic information network that connected most planets in the galaxy where sentient humanoids lived.
He was careful to conceal his identity, of course—it wouldn’t do for anyone to find out he was taking pieces from the University’s collection and selling them to the highest bidder. But so far, no one had even missed the things he’d taken. They were small, insignificant artifacts that hadn’t even been catalogued yet. And they made a nice supplement to his salary—since that bitch Higgly hadn’t given him a raise in the past two years.
The door to the Antiquities Collection was supposed to be locked at all times, but Chud had found a way around that. He’d gotten the keycards from Higgly’s desk when she was on an extended leave and copied them. Now he fished them out of his pocket and pressed the card he needed against the locking mechanism.
There was a buzzing sound and the door unlocked, swinging open to reveal a huge, dusty storage area filled with piles of artifacts just waiting to be sorted and catalogued.
“Gonna get something good today, you old bitch!” Chud muttered to himself as he stepped inside. He only wished he could somehow let his supervisor know he was stealing from what she considered to be her private collection without getting into trouble. He would love to rub her face in it! He would—
“Would you like to make her pay?”
The deep, sonorous voice startled Chud so badly he dropped the keycards on the ground and had to scramble to pick them up.
“What? Who’s that?” he demanded, looking around. But the room was empty, except for himself.
“I said, would you like to make the female who holds dominion over you pay? Would you like to make them ALL pay?” the voice demanded and this time it was accompanied by a presence—a dark, malevolent force that surrounded Chud like a storm cloud filled with lightning. And the presence was most definitely male.
“Of course I want to make her pay!” he exclaimed. He could feel the short hairs at the back of his neck and all along his arms standing up. Whoever was talking to him was bad fucking news—he could tell.
“I will make you a god among men if you do as I say,” the unseen speaker promised. “But you must swear to make them pay—all of them—all the females who have risen above their stations and the males who helped them to rise instead of holding them down as they ought to.”
“Fuck, yes!” Chud exclaimed. Now the voice was speaking his language—it felt as though the inner monologue that had been running through his head for years was finally being spoken aloud—only much more eloquently than he could express it.
“I will make you eloquent and urbane,” the voice promised him. “Your words will sway thousands…millions…hundreds of billions. But you must do always as I say.”
A vision rose in Chud’s mind—it was him, but not as he had ever seen himself. He was tall and handsome and the pockmarks from his adolescent acne had been erased from his face. His silver hair was thick and smooth, no longer receding from his forehead and he had a full, lush beard. He was wearing long, splendid robes and addressing a crowd of people who were hanging on his every word and doing everything he told them to do.
“Like I was some kind of a prophet or something,” Chud muttered.
“Yes—you will be my prophet!” the voice assured him. “Through my guidance and vision you will rule. You will crush women and teach other males to do the same!”
“Yes, I’m in!” Chud looked around again, but there was still no one he could see. “What do I do?” he asked. “How do we get started?”