Page 39 of Of Monsters and Mazes

“I mean ‘I don’t know.’” He repeated. “I feel like half our conversations are me repeating myself to you. Try to keep up.” With that, Theron paced over to me, and he forcefully grabbed my wrist. I jerked on instinct, not knowing what his goal was, but he effortlessly lifted my hand to his face, and he held it there with his superior strength. I was about to give him a piece of my mind, when he leaned forward and took my index finger into his mouth. He used his tongue to hold it in place, then he drew me in to the second knuckle.

“W-what are you—” My whole body heated, and I stared into his eyes with a hint of panic. Instantly my mind flashed back to the nightmare on the table, and all too vividly, my knees buckled at the reminder of how he’d felt on top of me.

Just as quickly as he’d riled up my imagination, a sharp pain shot through my finger as his fangs broke skin. He kept my finger cradled on his tongue for several more seconds before he drew my hand back out of his mouth, holding my wrist captive all the while.

Then we both watched as the puncture on my fingertip healed itself.

“Fascinating.” He blinked rapidly, processing it all. I didn’t know how to make heads or tails of it. “Maybe you don’t need me after all.”

He released my wrist and stepped away. There was no emotion betrayed on his face.

Without further explanation, we resumed navigating this lush section of the Labyrinth, and I just walked along quietly, at a loss for words and an even bigger loss for understanding.

The lush vegetation was the only comfort to my spinning mind. This sector was beautiful, honestly. It felt so peaceful and nonthreatening. The walls were alive with the brightest greens, and the grass felt so soft and springy beneath my otherwise aching feet. It made me want to stop for a picnic. Maybe sit down on a nice blanket, eat a sandwich, drink some wine, let him feed me a few strawberries. I’d been walking for quite some time now. It would be nice to get a rest soon.

I glanced at Theron’s back, where those light scars criss-crossed down his body. They were barely visible unless you were in the right lighting, but they were most certainly there.

How did one scar a devil? If they were immortal and instantly healed even when they were completely gored through, what kind of weapon or circumstance would result in permanent marks? They weren’t tattoos. That Rai character had tattoos, and the difference was distinct.

I considered asking him about it, but I thought better of it. What if it was from something traumatic? We weren’t really friends, anyway. He told me as much, so I was certain he wouldn’t be confiding in me with his darkest struggles. I was accepting that he felt nothing for me at face value, apparently.

I rounded another bend, lightly brushing some leaves in the process. The soft, fuzzy underside of the vines bristled against my bicep. I took a few more steps, when I felt another vine graze my ankle. I stepped away from the wall, trying to avoid touching more of this overgrowth. It was ivy after all. It was probably full of spiders, and like any sensible human being, I fucking hated spiders.

A leaf grazed my cheek out of nowhere, and I pivoted away, slipping towards the other wall, where I felt the gentle caress of a fuzzy stem moving up and down my thigh. Was there a breeze rustling the leaves?

“Hey, Theron. What’s with the pla—” A thick vine filled my open mouth, cutting me off and yanking me into the thick, bushy wall. I would have screamed if I’d been able, but instead I found my vision blurring and my consciousness fading rapidly. Immediately, thorns broke skin and started slicing rings around my biceps, my legs, my waist, and my neck.

Instant panic sent me thrashing, while the pain was quickly turning into numbness. The vines gripped me roughly, while continuing to feed leaves down my throat to cut off my screams, and tightening around my neck to cut off my lungs. Needle like spikes on every thorn sunk in and started sucking the blood from every point of penetration. My attempts to fight back were met with restraints, and the ivy manhandled me into compliance.

My blurred vision turned green as I was dragged into the thicket. My blood mixed with the morning dew on the leaves, while crimson stained the stems and vines.

Then a loud shriek rang out, and I fell backwards on my ass in the middle of the Labyrinth floor. I caught myself on my elbows, hyperventilating, dripping in blood, and completely disoriented. My vision cleared, and the feeling of plush, scratchy grass brushing against my legs had me scrambling to my feet, not wanting any of these plants to touch me anymore.

Just like before, the cuts started closing rapidly, and like so, so many times now, I looked to the platinum haired devil who was glaring down at me with all of his pity, a hand on his hip, and a sigh in his throat.

“Literally all you have to do here is not touch the walls. It’s not that hard. Clear?”

“Sir, yes sir.” I mumbled with my head down and embarrassment burning through me. That didn’t seem so tough, really. It would have been nice if he’d thought to mention that sooner, but god forbid anyone give me a hint or two to keep me untraumatized.

I barely managed to compose myself again, when I noticed the rustling sound in the distance. I glanced down the next bend, where a man with deep red hair, a tail, and something akin to cat ears rested on a bench. He leaned back into the wall, and that vague scent of lilac was immediately overtaken by the moss. The vines tangled and coiled around his every limb, just as they’d done to me.

“Shit.” I started running, hoping to help him from suffering the same fate.

Theron, however, groaned behind me. “Leave it.” He snapped, like that was in any way an option.

I shook my head, not even entertaining that suggestion. “We have to help him.” I called back. I knew I should have listened, but it seemed so wrong to let an innocent devil die, when I’d been rescued left and right. I couldn’t turn a blind eye right after someone had just helped me.

I was probably going to regret it—I knew that—but that was a risk worth taking. Any creature powerful and deadly enough to be a threat to the two of us wouldn’t have fallen subject to such a trap. And anyone defenseless enough to make the same mistakes I did deserved mercy.

Theron started through the grass to catch up to me, and I was grateful he was on board with helping after all. Just one more indicator that he wasn’t as cruel and heartless as he claimed to be.

Even if, under his breath, I may have heard a very disgruntled “Goddammit, Butterfly.”

Chapter 19

A vine fed into the sleeve of my jacket and wrapped around my arm, extending and growing in spirals that squeezed my biceps and tickled my forearm. Small flowers sprouted in the thickest portions, while thorns dug into my skin, as if attempting to pin me to the wall of the Labyrinth.

It was fascinating, the way these plants grew unencumbered, despite the drought conditions that plagued Jericho’s kingdom over the last several centuries. I suppose what he lacked in rain, he made up for with blood. Though it would have been prudent to start gathering more tributes to make up for that deficit. For a king of all devils, he wasn’t terribly logical or resourceful, in my opinion.