chapter fifteen
A prisoner has entered the labyrinth.
The labyrinth walls buzzed with the new energy, tensing the beast’s muscles like he had smelled something foul. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a prideful scumbag today. He’d end their life quick and enjoy his solitude for a little while longer.
He attached his axe to his back, tightening the carrying strap that rested snuggly over his shoulder. The wooden handle thumped against his spine as he walked, digging into the thick, calloused skin underneath his fur. The axe was practically an extension of himself after all the years he’d made use of it. The maze provided for him fairly well, but it never gave him any weapons. After spending years fighting off the prisoners with stones and a grizzly roar, he decided to craft his own weapon with the discarded metal breastplate from a fallen prisoner and a large splint of wood that a prisoner snuck in as a spear. It wasn’t anything fancy, and it needed repairs often, but it was sharp enough to end a life without so much as a wince of pain.
He twisted the gold ring on his finger, allowing the labyrinth to guide him through the tunnels to the newest visitor. He hoped this one would be compliant. He wasn’t in the mood to chase down a sweaty man through the tunnels, but he would if he had to. The silence was far too appealing.
The labyrinth didn’t seem to share the sentiment of his haste, and took him down extra tunnels and passages, dragging out his walk. The beast sighed; the maze could be so finicky at times. It was truly alive in some ways, with an agenda of its own and often a bit of attitude thrown into the mix. The creator’s magic was truly something extraordinary... extraordinarily annoying.
“What do you want?” the beast huffed at the ceiling. “Why won’t you just take me to the prisoner?”
The walls remained silent—they always did—yet he still sensed a tug toward a different tunnel. He rolled his eyes and walked a few feet in the direction the labyrinth called him toward. The walls glowed happily when he complied, highlighting a specific patch of stone that housed one of the beast’s precious rose bushes at the back of a dead end .
“I’m here. Now what do you—”
Wait...
He saw it then. The maze wasn’t trying to draw attention to the wall, but to the roses sprouting from it. The beast rushed over to the blooms, his heart thudding in his chest as he knelt down beside the flowers. They were wilting... Only slightly, like they had gone a few days without a proper drink, but it was still more than he had ever seen.
“No...” the beast whispered, his claws shaking as he gently reached out to brush one of the flowers. The tender touch caused a petal to flutter to the ground, stopping the beast’s heart as he stared at the blood red petal on the dirty ground. “The roses... They can’t die. They’ve never died before.”
Panic pushed the beast to his feet. He stormed through the tunnels, completely ignoring the pull of the labyrinth as he hunted for another patch of roses. Even without the labyrinth’s guidance, it only took him a few moments to come across another bush. He hurried to look at the blooms and felt his stomach plummet as he noticed the exact same wilt in the petals.
“Who’s done this...?” the beast growled. “Have they been poisoned? Someone must have disrupted them...”
The new prisoner .
“Take me to the intruder,” the beast demanded to the ring, his chest tugging as the labyrinth floor rumbled in response to his request. “Now!”
The magic ring obeyed his command, though he could sense it was reluctant to. He followed the guiding glow of the tunnels, his hooves clattering with each step. Whoever this man is, he better pray that he didn’t have anything to do with my roses. There were fates worse than starving in the tunnels.
Those roses are all I have left. If something happens to them…
He couldn’t think about that. They were still alive for now; he just needed to figure out what was making them wilt. He raced around the corners, his heart pumping with each turn as he felt the magic drawing him closer to the prisoner.
There .
The bright red color all prisoners wore caught his eye, blurring his gaze with his own red-hot fury. He reached for his axe, the metal reflecting the dark red color as he crept up behind the unsuspecting… woman? He froze.
Why was there a woman in the labyrinth?
He was looking at her from behind, but she looked younger than most prisoners. She was easily two feet shorter than him, though his beastly stature left him at a towering height, and her dark hair flowed down her back in long tresses that looked like they deserved to be braided into a crown. She was slender, but almost too much so, like she had already been in the maze for too long and was in need of a proper meal. Her skin was tanned from being in the elements, as opposed to being light and untouched by the sun like the pompous nymphs who found their way into the tunnels. He couldn’t see her face, but he could tell by her posture that she was already braver than most who found themselves in the tunnels.
She stood tall, chin raised, and hand on her hip as she seemed to study something in her other hand. Something red and vibrant...
A rose.
All the curiosity the beast held melted into blood lust as he narrowed his eyes on the perfect bloom. How dare she pick one of his roses... That must be why the others were wilting.
“You...” the beast growled, his voice thunderous despite the low tone.
The girl whipped around, her hair fluttering over a pair of onyx eyes and soft features that stunned the beast with their grace. She gasped, her rosebud-pink lips parting as she clutched the full bloom to her chest and stared straight into the beast’s eyes. Not his fangs, not his horns, but his eyes...
His chest tightened, but he didn’t let the girl’s beauty soften his anger. The rosebush behind her was in the same horrid state as the others. This was her fault. She did this to his roses.
“What have you done?”