Den of Monsters
T he wind knocked out of her chest as she landed on her back. There was a crack that reverberated through her ears, and she was sure she’d broken a bone. But with the pain radiating through her whole body, she couldn’t be sure which bone she’d broken.
Too stunned to even move, she lay in the wet mud, gasping for breaths that were too slow to make it to her lungs. Her vision had gone blurry once again, the lenses on her face had fallen somewhere in the muck beneath her. She wanted to reach for them, and her fingers twitched with every intention, but she couldn’t.
Foul-smelling mud invaded her senses. It reminded her of when she’d first landed, but this was somehow worse. It coated her eyelashes, and she blinked it away, staring up at the darkening sky.
There was a clang, and something fell from above the ravine next to her body. The smell of overripe fruit entered her nostrils, mingling with the stench of muck.
From above, the queen peeked over the edge. Bryson could only make out a blurry form, but she could imagine the cruelty dripping from her voice.
“Eat the fruit, little blind Fae.”
Bryson gasped and found strength enough to push herself to a sitting position. Every bone in her body ached, and she wondered how many she’d broken. Her wrist felt extra sensitive, and she cradled the limp part to her chest.
“Fuck,” she hissed, feeling the ache in the back of her neck as she looked up at the queen. She gave her the most defiant glare she could muster. Her other hand landed beside her, squelching in the mud, as her fingers absently searched for the lenses. Her fingertips met the cold metal and glass, and she quickly brought them up to her face and adjusted them one-handed.
They were covered in muck, but they helped her see.
“Perhaps you just need a little persuasion,” the queen purred from above. “A little exercise to work up your appetite.” Then she stepped back, away from Bryson’s line of vision.
Bryson glared up, her head whipping back and forth all along the wide, maze-like distance of the ravine. No one peeked over the edge again.
Her heart began thumping wildly in her chest and fear slid down her back. She pushed herself to a stand, purposefully stepping on the Unseelie fruit as she walked over to the edge of the ravine. The walls, while solid, were made entirely of mud. It was slimy, slipping down in clumps.
She held her breath, testing movement in her injured wrist. It screamed with its pain, but she had to ignore it if she wanted to get out of this situation alive. She had to bear it. She had borne things much more painful than this. That was what she told herself, if only to trick her mind into believing the pain didn’t exist.
Gritting her teeth and suppressing her scream, she lifted both hands and gripped the edge of the ravine. White-hot pain shot from her fingers all the way up to her shoulder. Her vision turned white, and her mouth watered.
Don’t black out, she told herself. Do not fucking pass out down here.
Once she had her breathing under control, she found a good grip and tried to haul herself up. But the mud was too slippery, and it seemed like there were layers of it to where she couldn’t dig her fingers in and get a good hold. All she managed was to slide back down and fall back to the ground on her ass.
Her entire front was caked with sludge and she stood, ready to try again, but this time with a boost of magic. She reached deep into that well where her magic nestled and grasped at it with her fingers. It felt dormant, and the place where it usually was felt hollow. Still, she reached, stretched, and grasped its sleeping form, shaking it awake with all the desperation she could muster.
Before it awoke, the ground shook once again, a terrible vibration she felt straight down to her teeth. She fell backwards, putting her hands out to stop her fall. Her wrist screamed at the landing, and she felt the tears prickle behind her eyes.
The ground kept shaking, rattling her down to her skeleton. She tilted and fell, attempting to find her balance. She eventually made it to her feet, separating them hip-width apart and steadied herself. The walls of the ravine rumbled, splattering soil through the air.
Bryson’s breathing grew labored and her whole body shook as she tried to hone in her senses on whatever was making the ground quake. In the distance, turning the corner, she was met with a monster of nightmares.
Her scream caught in her throat, but she kept her legs planted firmly on the ground.
The creature was a gargantuan beast like nothing she’d ever seen before. Its wide, circular, gaping mouth sported several rows of knife-like teeth. Several eyes dotted both sides of its cylindrical head, and spikes jutted out down the length of its back. It was like a snake, with stubby, clawed legs down its torso and entire scaley length.
It crawl-slid towards Bryson, and each step shook the earth. It caught sight of her with its dozens of eyes, and for a second it froze. They measured each other before the creature threw its elongated neck back and roared.
It picked up speed her way, and Bryson had no other choice but to turn and run.
Her feet slid on the ground, and she fought to right herself as she darted between the tall walls of the maze. The walls shook and she had no idea where she was going. She ran aimlessly, feeling the hot breath of the beast at her neck.
It was too close. Far too close. Her body was screaming; she knew she couldn’t outrun it.
Predator or prey.
That meant she was just going to have to face it.
Bryson reached inside herself so deeply she screamed as she ripped the magic up by force. Her feet skidded as she whirled, surprising the beast.
Her hands shot out and she screamed as her magic obeyed. Wind burst from her fingers, shoving the creature back through the tight space between the walls. A riptide of a tornado spun from the bottom of its claws, sucking it into the storm.
The screech it gave was deafening. Its head thrashed side to side, hitting the walls on either side. A landslide of mud poured down from the force, and Bryson had to jump back to avoid being buried beneath the sludge. Her ankles were sucked in it, and she nearly tripped. Her magic flailed and failed. The wind whooshed down, blowing her backwards. The beast screamed as it fell to the ground and the entire world felt like it would split down the middle from the impact.
While the creature writhed on the ground in its attempt to right itself, Bryson forced herself to a stand, turned, and ran once again. It didn’t matter how light she tried to make her steps, they squelched and made too much noise in the mud. She slip and slid, and it slowed her movements. But she needed to put distance between herself and the creature, just enough so she could land another blow.
Bryson felt along the walls as she ran, hoping to feel something solid. If she put in enough distance, she could fly up to the edge of the ravine and away from the monster. But what were the odds that the queen and her guards would only surround Bryson and toss her back inside?
The odds of that were very high.
There would be no winning.
Not unless she killed the beast.
She was going to need a weapon for that.
The ground quaked again as the creature righted itself and went in search of its prey. Bryson quickly covered herself in mud, rolling against it so it caked her skin and face. Then, she pressed herself quickly to the wall just as the creature thundered down the path she hid in. It rushed past her, and as soon as it did, Bryson peeled herself off the wall to face its back. She took a breath and forced her magic out. It was like taking a knife to her chest and carving out her own flesh, but she gritted through it.
A gust of air pushed her through the air where she landed on the creature’s back.
It let out a roar of rage as she bent and gripped one of the spikes on its spine with her hands. Her wrists screamed and the spike cut through her flesh, but she pulled, using magic to aid her, and popped one off.
The creature cried out in pain and thrashed its tail in her direction, but Bryson was already moving away, jumping off the side of its body to land in the mud while its tail slapped down against itself, causing it to rumble angrily.
Bryson wielded its spike like a weapon. She didn’t care that it grew wet and warm with her blood. Her hands shook and she fought to contain her fear and rage. She steeled herself, so when the beast turned on her and charged, she was prepared. She met it in the middle, running, ducking under its soft underbelly. With a two-handed grip, she shoved the spike upwards, piercing past hard, leathery flesh. She screamed as she sawed through it, pushing herself further and further, gutting the creature.
Guts and blood rained down over her, staining her skin and mouth. She felt her own palms split open from the force she used, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t let go of the spike. Even as she used her magic to help tear her away from beneath the beast, she gripped it tightly until her palms burned as badly as her eyes had once so long ago.
The monster keeled over, its great body thumping on the ground. Mud splattered everywhere, and it wasn’t until Bryson was sure the beast was not breathing that she dropped the spike and raised her bloody hands to her face, wiping off the lenses. All she did was smear dirt and blood.
Her head tilted up. Several gazes stared down at her from the top of the ravine. Among them, the queen’s. Bryson fought the urge to flip her the finger, only restraining herself when the queen, in all her beautiful glamor, smiled cruelly down at Bryson.
It was in that malicious, calculating look that Bryson knew she hadn’t won at all.
Suddenly, the beast’s body began to twitch, and Bryson’s gaze snapped to it. She took a fearful step back as bones within it began snapping. Its leathery, scaley flesh started moving like something had come alive within it.
Bryson stepped back as its flesh reamed open, splitting with a terrible wet sound. Bright green blood sprayed, and rib bone pushed through carrion. One pointed bone peeked out at a time until it pushed through completely.
Bryson barely contained her scream as she was met with an enormous spider made of bone. A creature of muscle and ivory, smeared in green. It scuttled across the corpse of the beast and charged.
Bryson turned and ran on impulse. Her heart slammed up to her throat, nearly choking her. Her arms pumped at her sides, her lungs burning as she heaved. The creature slid through the mud, thundering the ground as viciously as the leathery beast.
She cursed herself for dropping the spike. She shot her hands backwards, ripping her magic out to push the thing back. She sensed it behind her, sensed the way it slid away. She could only run with all her might, but it felt useless. Her fear choked her, nearly paralyzing her. And that thing was way too fast, her magic weakening.
When a sharp bit of bone scraped against her spine, Bryson screamed. It tore through her clothes, her skin, and shoved her face-first into the mud. Her back blazed with a fire that spread down her spine. The creature dug the bone in deeper, ripping through her skin.
Bryson screamed as it dug deeper, pinning her into the muck.
Her magic exploded, but the injury made her weak. Her magic flickered like the flame of a dying candle, like the slowest breath leaving lips.
Her fingers clawed against the mud, but every jerk of her body made her back scream. The agony was unbearable, and tears slid down her eyes as she sobbed.
“Please,” she cried, tasting mud, salt, and blood. The glasses slid down her face and through blurry vision, she stared skyward, finding faces leering, hearing their voices as they laughed at her.
“You can end this torment.” The queen’s voice echoed down the maze. “You can save yourself. All you have to do is eat the fruit.”
Bryson sobbed. Never before had she felt so weak. She wanted to fight, but something inside her fractured the harder the creature dug into her back. She felt it push past muscle, to her own bones. She screamed, “Please, please stop!”
“Eat. The. Fruit.”
“Please.” Bryson tilted her head up and stared directly at the queen. “I don’t want to.” Something inside her broke at the sight of the queen’s expression then. Half-blurry, half-clear, smeared with blood red and green and mud, but she saw clearly.
Begging was futile.
She’d either die in the mud or...
From above fruit began to fall. It landed in front of her, one fruit after another, splattering and buried in front of her face.
An invitation.
A threat.
Die in the mud or eat the fruit and remain trapped in Unseelie forever.
“Eat,” the queen commanded.
Bryson stared at the half-buried red, Unseelie peach, but didn’t reach for it. In retaliation, the creature dug deeper into her skin. Tears streamed down Bryson’s cheeks. She screamed, she was sure of it, until her throat was hoarse, and it felt like she was spitting blood.
“Please,” she moaned again.
It was useless.
Die or eat.
Die or eat.
Predator or prey.
Bryson sobbed as she reached for a peach in her shaking, broken hand. There were cheers from above as she brought the nectar to her lips. She sobbed again and tried one last time. Just one. But her magic died. It flickered and went out.
Empty. She was nothing but a broken, empty vessel.
Cheers rained again as Bryson had no choice but to open her mouth...
...and sink her teeth into the fruit.
The bone tore from her back. She swore she blacked out before she felt herself being lifted... lifted.... She was thrown unkindly to the ground. Not mud, but a harder surface. She tried to hold back her tears but failed as the pain engulfed her, pushing her in and out of consciousness.
Her eyes opened, blinking past tears and mud and blood. The queen loomed over her, smiling down.
Bryson could still taste the sweetness of the overripe fruit on her tongue, and it made her want to gag.
The queen bent and took Bryson’s chin in her hand. Her grip was firm. Unkind. Unyielding.
“You are mine now,” she whispered cruelly. “And I am going to take you from him just like he took my daughter from me.”