Meet Anomie, Michael R. Fletcher’s Cotardist Assassin and Leader of the Schatten Morder
When we first came up with the concept for Evil is a Matter of Perspective: An Anthology of Antagonists, Michael R. Fletcher was one of the first people I had in my ideal author group. His book, Beyond Redemption, was one of the most criminally under read books of 2015 and is full of the type of characters I wanted in this anthology.
Michael jumped at the opportunity (he said something about needing some new pants, or whiskey, or something) and pitched Anomie as the character he wanted to further explore. My obvious answer was, “Hell yes.”
If you haven’t read Beyond Redemption, you need to asap. For now, meet Anomie.
Introducing Anomie, Michael R. Fletcher’s antagonist contribution to Evil is a Matter of Perspective
The sky broke and torrents of rain and hail hammered the earth. Slashing lightning lit the dark underbellies of sick and heavy clouds with flickering and unnatural hues. The heavens screamed in torment.
Anomie, deafened by Konig’s delusions, heard none of this. Even the stunning displays of colour seemed little more than strobing shades of grey. The eyes of the dead, robbed of life and beauty, saw the world as a stain of monochromatic twilight.
Men and women, gaunt with hunger and covered in filth, hurled themselves in the path of the Schatten Morder. Life meant nothing to Anomie. It rose before her and she cut it down. For those who could achieve the Afterdeath, annihilation was a gift. Anomie and her Schatten Morder had many gifts to give. They climbed mountains of dead and more flocked to receive their alms.
They mobbed her, stabbing and cutting, punching and kicking. It meant nothing. She felt nothing.
She knew this to be the camp of a Slaver. Though never as large, she’d seen similar groups before. The boy will be here, somewhere. She’d kill the Slaver at the heart of this mob and help Morgen Ascend as was his destiny. Death will be my gift to the god-child.
A stabbing flash of lightning momentarily blinded the living but, to Anomie’s dead eyes, served only to better illuminate the hellish scene.
Gehirn Schlechtes, Konig’s pet Hassebrand, stood waiting for her with a feral smile. Gehirn’s dog-like canines glinted in the brief light. Anomie laughed. The dry hollows of her empty skull flickered with reflected light. The skulls of the dead, skin long cracked and peeled away, grin forever.
Gehirn gestured and burned clear a path between herself and the Schatten Morder. Like rushing tide-waters, the Slaver’s followers poured in to fill the cleared area.
Anomie laughed again, an insane cackle dying as breath leaked from decaying lungs.
Fire meant nothing to the dead.
End of Excerpt
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