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More volatile projectiles scream toward me — fire, electricity, and ice. Each narrowly misses as I throw myself recklessly around the passage.
The blasts surge wildly out of control past me, leaving the stone corridor jagged, blackened, and scorched.
Zoey screams again and frustration bleeds through the bloodlust haze. I can’t afford to be driven back for long playing his chaotic game. He’ll lose me or escape somewhere I can’t follow if I don’t catch up swiftly.
The forked passage ahead offers two options — no time to guess. I’ll have to try one, then double back if it’s wrong. I grit my teeth and change direction.
In my peripheral vision, I register another blistering charge barreling down the tunnel. I realize — too late — that there’s no time to dodge fully with the turn I’m making.
This one catches me hard in the shoulder instead of a clean miss. It knocks me off-balance and I strike the far wall in a painful tumble of limbs before sliding to the gritty floor.
The smell of charred fur and seared flesh floods my nostrils, making me snarl. I flex my claw experimentally, assessing the damage.
Muscle and skin already rapidly knitting back together. Good enough. No rest for the wicked here.
The sword-wielding menace thinks he can outmatch mewith unstable fireworks and parlor tricks? He hasno ideathe hell about to rain down on him.
I push up from the scorched floor, a low deadly rumble building in my chest. The gaping blackened hole in my shoulder continues to regenerate, slowly stitching itself back together.
I take a step forward but the pain echoes down my arm. I ignore it and push on. A thick film of sweat coats my brow but it will be gone soon enough. I can’t let him take her from me. I can’t let him escape.
Let him have his fun for now. His tricks won’t save him forever. And mercy isn’t in my vocabulary when something I Claim is threatened.
Zoey
My elation at spotting M’ijel in pursuit evaporates in a heartbeat. I watch in horror as a massive bolt of energy slams into his shoulder, sending my poor hero flying violently around the corner and into an unforgiving stone wall.
That simply can’t be enough to stop my determined protector though… can it? Fear constricts my chest and I sense the approach of tears.
The alien brute carrying me hesitates. He seems in two minds about checking M’ijel’s condition. He’s not sure if he ended him either or not. Finally, he turns and continues racing down the corridor.
I reach toward the corner M’ijel disappeared behind but it’s no use. M’ijel — my M’ijel — is gone from view.
My shock transforms rapidly to outrage on M’ijel’s behalf as we continue hurrying along our way, apparently now home free. How dare this disfigured deviant simply blast away my dear one and abduct me without retribution?
My captor eventually notices the same suspicious lack ofraging pursuit. He pauses to glance behind us, lip curling in a contemptuous sneer I yearn to claw off his smug face.
Finding no sign of vengeance forthcoming, the wretch chuckles nastily to himself. My blood boils.
We continue onward, though now the creature seems to choose directions hesitantly, as though the maze layout is less familiar.
Good! I hope he gets us thoroughly lost, the ignorant creep!
Might increase chances of encountering additional threats or traps too. Would serve him right to blunder straight into some carnivorous hedge beastie by mistake.
My frantic scheming stutters as I gradually comprehend our apparent aimlessness means M’ijel likely can’t track us easily anymore either. Icy unease replaces fiery temper when confronted again with my utterly helpless predicament.
Still, where there’s life, there’s hope, as the old saying goes. And I’m certainly still breathing for the moment. Uncomfortably so, considering muscles-for-brains has some sort of steel python embrace on me. But definitely alive!
Honestly, who needs ribs or oxygen? I can always count on my relentless imagination to uncover solutions where others might despair.
In fact, I retain one crucial advantage my intellectually challenged captor has yet to eliminate in his negligent pawing of his prize.
My mouth remains entirely unhindered. No gag or muzzle silences my primary asset! A good scream or shout will be enough to alert M’ijel to our location so he can rip this asshole apart.
If he’s still breathing, that is…
The blast had been a powerful one. Who’s to say how badly he was injured?
