Abarith
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Chapter 30: Flight and Fight
🕑 Added 2024-11-22 06:08:26 +0000 UTCJeremy’s lungs burned, each breath tearing through his chest like fire. His legs felt foreign to him, shaking with each step. But he couldn’t stop. The sound of claws scraping against the stone behind him kept getting louder—closer. He couldn’t even look back; he didn’t need to. He knew they were there.
The shadows danced on the walls, and the dim light made everything blur together. Every corridor looked the same—suffocating, endless.
He ran blindly, his mind spiraling. Run. Just keep running. Keep running. The words banged in his head like a drum, drowning out everything else—his fear, his panic, and the pain in his legs. He turned a corner too fast, nearly slipping. His boots scraped against the ground, and he barely caught himself before falling.
How long had he been running? Minutes? Hours? The maze twisted and turned so much that nothing felt real anymore. He’d made marks on the walls earlier to help him find his way, but now they blurred together. Was that the same crack he passed earlier? That faint bloodstain—was it his from before? His stomach tightened. Had he gone in a circle?
“No. No, not like this,” he muttered, stopping suddenly and driving his spear into the ground. He bent over, gasping for air like a man drowning. His heart pounded in his head. He pressed his trembling hand against the cold stone wall to steady himself.
Think, Jeremy. You can do this. You memorized the maze. You planned for this.
He squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself to block out the panic. He pictured the map in his head. Left at the cracked wall. Straight at the dark patch. Right at the scratches. Slowly, piece by piece, it came back.
Skill Improved: Memori—
“Not now!” he hissed, clenching his fists as the notification pulsed in his head. Without even thinking, he dumped every bit of Essence he could into the skill. Maybe boosting his Mind stat would help, even if it was just a tiny bit.
His eyes snapped open, and everything clicked. The maze in his mind sharpened like a jigsaw puzzle finally coming together. Relief flooded through him, and he felt a shaky grin tug at his lips. “Finally,” he whispered.
But then the sound came again. The claws. Louder, sharper. They were still coming.
Jeremy pushed off the wall and took off, his legs screaming in protest. The scratches he’d carved into the stone now stood out like glowing signs, guiding him forward. For the first time, he felt like he was actually ahead. Maybe he could—
He turned a corner and froze. The small alcove he’d rested in earlier came into view. He remembered leaning against the wall, panting, safe—at least for a little while. His eyes darted to the narrow passage behind it. Could he stop there? Maybe he could catch his breath, make a stand if the lizards caught up.
He barely had time to acknowledge the thought barely had time to take hold before a sound tore through the maze. Claws, not just one or two but dozens—a chorus of scraping. They weren’t just following him blindly—they were hunting him.
His chest tightened. The alcove wasn’t a safe place anymore. It was a trap.
Jeremy’s legs moved before his mind could, and he sprinted past the alcove without a second glance. It didn’t matter if he wanted to rest. Survival was all that mattered now.
And then he saw them.
The lizards.
They were waiting for him, crouched low in the shadows of a wider passage ahead. His heart stopped for a beat as he realized—they were the same ones. The ones he’d run past earlier on his first pass through the maze. This time, they had regrouped, and they were ready for him now.
“This can’t be happening. Not now!” he shouted, his voice cracking. He skidded to a stop, gripping his spear so tightly his fingers ached. His thoughts tumbled over each other in panic. He couldn’t outrun them. Not now. Not anymore.
The first lizard lunged. Jeremy braced himself, planting his feet as he jabbed the spear forward with a desperate yell. The point sank into the creature’s side with a sickening crunch, and it collapsed. But before he could pull the spear back, two more darted toward him.
One went low, snapping at his legs, while the other dove straight for his chest. He twisted, swinging his spear in a wide arc. The motion felt smoother than before, like his body was finally catching up to the chaos. The second lizard dropped with a thud, but the third was too fast. Its claws raked the air inches from his chest, and Jeremy stumbled back, barely keeping his footing.
More claws scraped against the stone. Jeremy’s stomach churned as the others closed in, their snarls filling the narrow passage. He’d been cornered, and they’d trapped him perfectly.
“This is so unfair!” he yelled, his voice raw, cracking with frustration.
Two more charged at the same time. He sidestepped one and drove his spear into the other’s neck. Blood sprayed the walls, and the first lizard spun back around, snapping at his heels. He kicked it hard, sending it sprawling, but his arms felt like they were made of lead. The spear was too heavy. Everything was too heavy.
Another lizard lunged, its claws aimed at his face. Jeremy ducked just in time, the reflex almost automatic. He drove the spear upward, catching it under the jaw, and slammed it to the ground.
Panting, his knees nearly buckling, Jeremy staggered back. The snarls and snapping jaws didn’t stop. He didn’t have time to stop. He darted a glance to the scratches on the wall, the faint blood trail he’d followed earlier. The path was still clear in his mind, but his body refused to listen.
“Just... keep... going,” he gasped, his voice barely audible.
He bolted forward again, every step a fight against the weight dragging him down. The lizards wouldn’t stop, but he wouldn’t either. Not until he was out. Not until he survived.
Jeremy’s legs screamed with every step, his breaths coming in bursts. The sound of claws on stone was constant now, haunting him from every direction. They were everywhere—behind him, ahead of him. He could feel their hunger, like a burning weight pressing against his back.
Exhaustion blurred his vision. His spear felt heavier than ever, his fingers cramping from holding it too tightly. A sharp nip at his ankle made him stumble, and he let out a panicked shout.
I can’t do this. The words hammered through his mind, over and over, overpowering the growls of the lizards. His legs felt like they’d snap at any second, and the cuts and bruises from his earlier fights were not helping. I’m not going to make it. There’s no way.
Then another thought slithered into his mind, uninvited but stubborn. You have to. You don’t have a choice.
His body was begging him to stop, to collapse, to let the monsters take him. He wanted to stop. He wanted it so badly it hurt.
As Jeremy turns another corner, the sound of claws behind him fades for a moment, replaced by silence. His pulse quickens—did they lose him? But as he pushes forward, something about the corridor stirs a flicker of recognition. The jagged walls, the uneven floor—he’s been here before. Or at least, he thinks he has. His eyes dart to a crack running along the left wall, faintly glowing with the same pale light he remembered passing earlier.
A cold pit forms in his stomach. Had he doubled back? The thought gnaws at him, his heart pounding harder as the corridor narrows sharply. The walls press closer on either side, jagged and uneven, forcing him to slow. Each step feels heavier with the weight of doubt clawing at his mind.
And then it happens. The corridor narrowed, tighter and tighter. His chest constricted. His steps faltered. No. No, it couldn’t be. The corner loomed, mocking him. A dead end.
“No,” Jeremy whispers, his voice cracking. He spins on his heels, gripping his spear tightly. The sound of claws is back now, growing louder, echoing like a relentless drumbeat. They’re closing in. His mind races, desperate for an answer. The glowing crack along the wall catches his eye again, and for a fleeting moment, he wonders if it might lead somewhere—if there’s a way out he’s missed.
He edges toward it, his fingers brushing against the cold, uneven surface. But there’s no hidden passage, no miraculous escape. Only the jagged walls, trapping him like prey in a hunter’s snare.
The snarls grow deafening, and his grip tightens on his spear. For a brief, wild moment, Jeremy thinks of making his stand here. His legs shake, exhaustion clawing at every fiber of his body, but defiance flickers in his chest. If this was it, he wouldn’t go quietly.
And then he saw them.
The first lizards round the corner, their glowing eyes reflecting the dim light. More follow, a writhing, snapping swarm that fills the corridor behind him. They move as a single, deadly army, their claws scraping against the stone in a constant rhythm.
“No choice,” he growled, his voice trembling. Tightening his grip on his spear, Jeremy surged forward, adrenaline pushing his exhausted legs into motion. The first lizard lunged at him, its claws outstretched. Jeremy sidestepped, swinging the butt of his spear into its side. It screeched and collapsed, but another snapped at him immediately, forcing him to duck.
The air was thick with the stench of sweat and blood. Every breath burned, every motion was agony, but he couldn’t afford to stop. The lizards swarmed closer, snapping jaws filling the air with sharp, echoing clicks. Jeremy twisted, thrusting his spear into the flank of one, only to feel the hot breath of another on his shoulder. He shoved it aside, stumbling backward, his boots sliding on loose stone.
The wall behind him pressed against his back—a painful reminder of the narrowing passage. He couldn’t run. He was cornered. The lizards fanned out, their glowing eyes watching him like predators savoring their prey. Jeremy lashed out with his spear again, catching one across the jaw, but another darted forward, raking its claws across his shin. Pain flared, and he let out a strangled cry.
Think. Think!
His mind raced desperately for a way out, but the chaos made it impossible to focus. Another lizard lunged, and Jeremy swung wildly. His grip on the spear was slipping. The scratches on the walls, the faint glow of cracks in the stone—they all blurred together.
What could he do? His spear wasn’t enough. His speed wasn’t enough. Nothing he had was enough.
“Come on!” he gasped, his voice raw. “There has to be something—”
A lizard’s claws swiped for his chest, and he twisted, nearly losing his footing. The motion brought him face to face with another, its hissing maw inches from his face. He drove the spear into its throat, the wet crunch sending a jolt through his hands. But even as it fell, three more moved to take its place.
Jeremy’s back pressed harder against the wall, the hopelessness of the situation sinking in. And then it hit him—a memory, as sharp and sudden as a blow to the gut.
It was a story—an old one his mom had shown him and Andrew when they were younger. Not to entertain them, but to warn them. A girl, trapped by monsters, her escape impossible. She couldn’t run fast enough or fight hard enough, so she tore a piece of her soul and used it to fuel her magic.
The spear shifted in his hands as the memory consumed him. He barely ducked in time to avoid more claws, nicking his ear.
The ending of the story was clear. The girl escaped the monsters—but not the cost. The magic consumed her. Her body crumpled, her soul burned away, leaving behind an empty shell.
His mother’s voice came next, sharp and commanding, cutting through the chaos around him: “Magic isn’t a toy, Jeremy. It’s part of your soul.”
Sweat dripped into his eyes as he swung the spear blindly. “If you use too much,” her voice continued, even as his lungs screamed for air, “you could burn out.”
Another lizard lunged, and he twisted just in time, the spear catching it in the throat with a sickening crunch. “You could lose everything—yourself included. Never use magic untrained or unsupervised.”
He slipped, barely regaining his balance as her final words hit him: “This is what happens when you don’t.” But, here he was, with no one but himself to blame for what he was about to do.
The lizards surged closer, and a claw raked his arm, leaving a burning sting. He lashed out with the spear, but his motions were sluggish now. Every muscle screamed in protest.
“Damn it!” he hissed, blinking back tears of pain and frustration. He didn’t have time for his mother’s warnings. He didn’t have time to think about Mia collapsing, her body limp after pushing her magic too far. He didn’t have time to think about anything except survival.
A lizard leapt straight for his chest, and Jeremy barely managed to skewer it midair. Its weight drove him down to one knee, the impact reverberating through his arms. Blood dripped from his fingers, his grip trembling on the spear.
His mother’s voice lingered in his head. “It’s your soul, Jeremy. Not just magic. It’s you.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words trembling on his lips as another lizard closed in. He wasn’t sure who the apology was for—his mom, or himself, for ending up in this situation.
He couldn’t afford to think anymore—his body screamed for rest. Gritting his teeth, Jeremy forced himself to concentrate. The sounds faded into the background, muffled by the pounding of his heart.
The world around him blurred—until all he could feel was something deep within him, faint and brittle. It glimmered like a fragile crystal buried beneath shadow, cold to the touch but resonating with a warmth, like the lullabies his mother used to sing when his nightmares woke the house. The last undamaged piece of himself. It was his. It was him.
His soul.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again, his voice breaking as he reached for the crystal, his desperate thoughts wrapping around it.
And he tore off a chunk.
