My name is Frank Butcher, and when I got out of my truck to deliver the last package of the day, I never expected to get blown up by anti-magic zealots.
Yeah, you heard me right. I said magic. I didn’t know it was a thing either.
Now, an ancient artifact is the only thing keeping me alive, and to make matters worse, that artifact is what those cultists wanted.
Still, I could have made a run for it, disappeared down into South America and spent the rest of my life on a beach. I nearly did it, but I didn’t.
Why? Because the cultists have offered me a trade. Come to them or they start killing kids.
Read chapter one here!
My name is Frank Butcher, and evidently when you save the world, it comes back for seconds.
After I stopped a world ending apocalypse, my allies tried to cut open my chest with an axe. Kind of messed up, if you ask me.
Thankfully, I’ve got a chance to return the favor. And I’m going to take it. Not because they’re trying to magically reshape the natural laws that govern our planet. No, I’m doing this because trying to cut out my heart is not okay.
Remember what I said about saving the world? Yeah, apparently the third time is the charm.
Turns out our little plan to stop the apocalypse left the gate open for some bastards straight out of HP Lovecraft. Now they’ve come on through to try to turn the planet into an all you can eat buffet.
That’s not exactly my jam, so if I want to go on living here, I’ll need to find a way to stop them.
My name is Frank Butcher, and one way or another, I’m putting an end to this once and for all.