Chapter 239 - The Birth of Death part 14

He drew his knife as he approached, blinking his eyes to clear them. The smoke, now that he was near, had a terrible odor, and stung his eyes when the wind blew a puff of it in his direction.

"Is this the god of death?" he said aloud. "If it is, I am… disappointed."

The black egg, if it had sense to understand his words, was not moved by his derision.

It was about the size of a man's head, and looked like nothing more than a blob of crude oil, although Khronos had no way of knowing what that was. It sat in another, smaller declivity, looking for all the world like a large black egg in a nest.

He heard a hissing sound as he drew near. The surface of the black egg seemed to be boiling away in the air. That was the source of the column of smoke. The god of death was… evaporating.

Khronos edged cautiously closer. He stretched out his arm and pricked the surface of the egg with the tip of his blade.

The glistening black surface was soft. Its shining skin dimpled slightly but did not allow his knife to pass through it.

Khronos withdrew, looked at the thing thoughtfully, then shrugged and thrust his blade into it. If this was the god of death, he meant to do what he had sworn.

The ball of black goo exploded.

Cold pitchy fluid splattered his hand and face. It was in his eyes, his nose. He gasped instinctively and somehow it got into his mouth.

Blinded, he stumbled back and fell onto his rump. Before he could jump back to his feet, he felt a great weight smash down upon him, and then the foul tasting fluid was forcing its way into his mouth, forcing its way down his throat. He felt his insides turn to ice. And pain! More pain than he had ever felt in his life. Like a hundred spears were piercing him at once. Like he was being devoured from the inside out. Like he was freezing. Like he was on fire.

He howled in despair.

I have been deceived!

It was his last thought as a mortal man.