Page 78 of Demonic Cage
But I can’t look away from the monster’s jaw. The protruding, sharp teeth. It strains against the chain, eager to pounce on me. And then it swallows. As it does, its throat swells too much. The skin is thinner there. That’s the weak point! I need to aim there. I thank myself for bringing the bow.
“Ten!” Nárs’s sharp voice hits the arena as he counts down. Come on, Lotte, think. This isn’t enough! It will catch you before you have a chance.
In the space of a second, I scroll through all the days of the past months in my mind.
“Everything can be a weakness,” Kripot said once. “Even our strengths.”
This monster is strong. But that doesn’t make it skilful.
I have no other choice; this is my only plan. It has to work. I start running towards the door of my cell, keeping the monster in my sights. The demons laugh and scream. They think I’m running away. I just about manage to reach the door and draw my bow.
Nárs shouts, “One!”
The chains clatter as they fall from the cyclops’ body, and it charges towards me. Luckily, it’s not on all fours, so I can aim for its neck.
I haven’t spent a day in the past months without practicing with Kripot. I never hit the target, but now… I release the string.
The monster deflects the arrow with a swipe, continuing its charge towards me. I don’t move. I have to stay here longer. It’s only five of its massive strides away now. Come on, Lotte, hold on! Four. Three.
As it’s almost upon me, and as it reaches out a hand to crush me, I throw one of my daggers straight into its fingers. The monster pulls its hand back, and I somersault under its arm. Unable to stop due to its massive weight, it crashes into the wall, while I end up unharmed behind it.
Without even thinking, I withdraw two knives from my belt and throw them at its neck. The first one hits perfectly. It screams, and a red streak of blood begins running down the monster’s neck, but the second one misses the mark.
The monster turns around; I don’t have time to escape. Its rough hand reaches for me. The air escapes me as it grabs me. But before it can crush me with its thick fingers, I pull my sword from its sheath. It presses against me so hard it almost snaps. My ribs crack. I writhe, screaming in burning pain. My vision blurs. I can barely breathe. I drop the sword and the blade lands in the sand.
I hear Kripot’s words again:You’ll have time to scream when you’re dying.Until then, act!
One of my arms is free. As much as it hurts me, I pull a knife from the belt attached to my chest. I throw it straight into the single yellow eye of the monster. It immediately drops me, clutching its injury.
I fall to the ground. Gasping for air. My teacher’s voice still echoes in my head.You’ll have time to suffer when you’re dead.
I stand up. Breathing heavily. The creature holds its eye, screaming of pain. But the fight is far from over. I watch the cyclops, but in the background, I notice the orange hair. Its owner leans over the railing, cheering.
“Come on, my love, don’t let her stab you!”
I’m stunned. Nárs isn’t talking to me. He’s talking to the monster.
My jaw drops. Bluish-gray skin, red veins, a large, yellow eye. Cyclopes don’t have wings…
“Kripot?” I ask in amazement. I take a step closer. He’ll listen to me; he has to listen to me. “Kripot, is that you?”
At the mention of its name, the monster awakens and looks into my eyes. I don’t understand how I didn’t notice before. The yellow eye belongs to Kripot. He looked at me every day with that gaze. I take a step forward.
“Kripot, it’s me…”
The monster roars and charges. I barely manage to dive into my cell when it strikes where I was. It gropes at the doorway, but its hand is too big to fit through. I retreat as much as I can. It pounds the entrance with its fist, and the ceiling collapses.
“No!” I scream as the mud wall falls on my leg. I already have broken ribs, and now a wounded ankle too. I won’t survive this.
I’m completely desperate. Please! I pray to myself because I no longer believe that any god will help me. Another blow comes.
Weapons scatter. Only my scream is heard. It’s going to kill me. It’s going to…
I scrabble along the ground until my hand touches something rough. It’s a rope. Another idea forms in my mind.
I kick the pieces of the wall off my leg, but I can’t stand up. I lean on the other leg as the ceiling falls around me. I have only one chance.
I tie one end of the rope to my waist, the other to a thick arrow whose tip is like a knife. I just need to get out of here. I need a distraction. I cut off my hair at the neck, twisting the curls around another arrow. Meanwhile, the giant bellows, watching intently, waiting for me to emerge. Waiting for its next meal.
