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FINAL DESCENT (The Monstrumologist) - Softcover

Buch 4 von 4: The Monstrumologist

YANCEY, RICK

 
9781481425513: FINAL DESCENT (The Monstrumologist)

Inhaltsangabe

Will Henry has been through more than seems possible for a boy of fourteen. He’s been on the brink of death on more than one occasion, he has gazed into hell―and hell has stared back at him, and known his face. But through it all, Dr. Warthrop has been at his side.When Dr. Warthrop fears that Will’s loyalties may be shifting, he turns on Will with a fury, determined to reclaim his young apprentice’s devotion. And so Will must face one of the most horrific creatures of his monstrumology career―and he must face it alone.Over the course of one day, Will’s life―and Pellinor Warthrop’s destiny―will hang in the balance. In the terrifying depths of the Monstrumarium, they will face a monster more terrible than any they could have imagined―and their fates will be decided.“Beyond a simple finale, this is a brave statement about the duplexity of good and evil, and the deadly trap in which all of us are snared” (Booklist, starred review).

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Rick Yancey is the author of The Monstrumologist, The Curse of the Wendigo, The Isle of Blood, and The Final Descent. He is also the author of The Fifth Wave series. Rick lives with his wife Sandy and two sons in Gainesville, Florida. Visit him at RickYancey.com.

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The Final Descent
Images

Canto 1

ONE


I reach for the end, though the end will not reach for me.

It has already reached for him.

He is gone

while I, locked in Judecca’s ice,

go on and on.

If I could name the nameless thing

My father burns, and living worms fall from his eyes.

They spew from his sundered flesh.

They pour from his open mouth.

It burns, my father cries. It burns!

His contagion, my inheritance.

If I could face the faceless thing

From the fire’s depths, I hear the discordant duet of their screams. I watch them dance in the final, fiery waltz.

My mother and father, dancing in flames.

If I could pull the two apart

If I could untangle the knot

Find one errant strand to tug

And lay out the thing from end to end

But there is no beginning nor ending nor anything in between

Beginnings are endings

And all endings are the same.

Time is a line

But we are circles.

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