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Just a little more.
His footsteps grew closer, and I panicked. I let the floodgates go and pushed as much power inside of her as I could. My body swayed as I stood and pulled her up with me. Shoving her forward to force her to start moving, I fell onto my knees as dizziness overwhelmed me.
I scrambled to get up again, but it seemed I had fueled her legs by taking energy from my own. The witch didn’t look back at me. She was now running down the aisle, shoes stomping loudly, as she searched for an exit. I cringed with every booming sound she made.
His steps were faster now as he heard the commotion.
Move! You need to move.
I crawled and willed my body to take the shape of a being far more agile, quicker, and smaller. Soon, I was detangling myself from my clothes, pushing them under the shelf, and with a quick shake of my fur, I set off running in the opposite direction to the witch.
Turning down one aisle, then another, I skidded, my paws sliding and my nails scratching against the polished floors. I jumped onto a tall shelf, landing next to a box, and hunkered down. I knew the color of my fur was not conducive to camouflage, but I hoped being surrounded by boxes and being high enough would keep me from being spotted.
Fafnir roared and stomped. I closed my eyes. Lack of energy made my body feel ten times heavier, but I kept listening. A prayer was whispered in my mind for the witch. I hoped she escaped. It would be one less thing to worry about.
A piercing scream dashed those hopes.
He had caught her again.
Fear held me frozen.Should I risk it? To save her? Risk myself, Zaide, and Charlie?If it were only me, I would have thrown myself at him, but Zaide and Charlie needed me to keep safe for their survival too.But can I live with myself if I let a person die?
I crept between boxes toward the screams and came to the edge of my shelf, which overlooked Fafnir, pinning the witch to the floor with a hand at her throat.
“Who is here? Who is helping you?” he shouted, spittle flying into her face. But she couldn’t reply. Her face was turning purple, and she scratched at his hands as she gasped for air. So furious, he wasn’t even stealing her magic, he was just taking his anger out on her. He pulled her up and quickly smashed her head against the hard floor.
Crack.
He raised her to do it again, and without thinking, I nudged a box off the shelf, and it fell to the floor with a loud bang. As objects scattered broken across the floor around him, his attention didn’t deviate. He shook her by the neck, her head smacking against the floor again and again.
He huffed out a breath of frustration as he sat back on his heels and ran a hand through his hair. His calm demeanor had my fur prickling with unease as I hunkered down.
Then his head turned, and his eyes met mine, dead on, and all the air in my lungs seemed to evaporate. I scrambled back and took off running down the shelf, uncaring if I knocked into things sending them flying to the ground.
I took a running leap at the next shelf in front of me, aware that Fafnir was probably following right behind me, and barely made it. My nails clawed into the bottom of a cardboard box. Using my back legs, I was able to clamber up and keep running. Adrenaline fueled me, but I knew I couldn’t make the next jump. It was too far away. Even as a cat I had limits.
Seeing an open box, I crawled inside and prayed for a miracle.
“Here, kitty … kitty … kitty,” Fafnir cooed.
His footsteps were slow and sure. My heart stuttered in my chest, my ears were flat against my head, and my blood turned colder with each step.
He continued, “You shouldn’t be here, kitty, and you shouldn’t get between a man and his meal.”
It was only a matter of time before he found me. My breaths felt short, as though I couldn’t get enough air in. I closed my eyes. What had I been thinking, believing I could spy on this man? That I could be helpful in any way?
I’ll die in this warehouse, killing Charlie and Zaide with me, because I didn’t run away when I had the chance.
My eyes shot open as a puff of warm, reeking breath ruffled my fur.
“Here you are,” he snarled and reached toward me. I hissed and shuffled back, jumping out of the box and away from him, almost falling off the shelf. “Come here, you stupid beast.”
I continued to back around a box and then, as the box was shoved to the side, I, too, was pushed off the shelf and into the next aisle, the box falling on top of me. I whimpered, feeling broken and winded as I tried to drag myself out from under the box.
But it was too late. Rough fingers picked me up by the scruff of my neck and shook. I hissed and struggled.
“Zaide!”
His response was instantaneous, probably having felt my pain. “Clawdia? What’s wrong?”
