Blasting him with another wave of light, I prepare for his menace to resurface. At first, he eludes my power, but as I’m forced to endure his unrelenting laughter, my rage compounds, and I find the strength to strike again, stronger, more furious than before. Soon his darkness enshrouds me.
I clasp Summer’s neck with both hands and squeeze. I force more of his menace from her throat, refusing to let it reenter.
Adrial coughs and gags, his laughter breaking. He writhes his hips as I choke him, throttling his airflow. Despite my efforts, the darkness recedes and is sucked back into his mouth. He contorts his lips into a sneer.
He throws me off him, but I catch and rebalance with my wings.
Bruises form along his neck as he wipes his mouth and rises.
Summer, forgive me.
We stare at each other. He sneers, yellow eyes flickering. He’s not playing any longer.
“How much more damage do you think this body can take? You nearly crushed her trachea. She’s almost—”
Pummeling forward, I thrust him back, knocking him into the bookshelf blocking the museum’s entrance. He staggers, and I clasp his neck again, throwing him deeper into the museum, through the entryway wards and beyond trails of salt.
His body thuds as I chase after him.
Shrieking, he rips from my grasp, launching at me, his fingernails tearing at my eyes. He grips my head.
Suddenly falling, I’m forced from my body, my mind landing in the trenches of Adrial’s menace.
The reek of sulfur and brimstone rushes through my nostrils as the shadows darken. My light barely penetrates the darkness, the demon consuming it faster than I can create it. I swipe my claws outward, but he’s not there. Blinking, my eyes refuse to adjust.
The gloom expands, growing heavy, thick, more like a wet blanket than air.
In the distance, there’s screaming, a chorus of wailing. I wince, brought to my knees. They’re all the souls Adrial has devoured. My gums swell—my ears bleed. The shrieks heighten, piercing my mind, enveloping me with their despair.
They’re endless, trapped, tortured. My mouth opens, and I join in with a bellow of my own. The sound drowns the screams until my throat throbs. Unable to hold my breath any longer, I inhale Adrial’s menace. It winds around my heart and squeezes.
The screams fade, lowering, becoming crunching.
I’m hunched, my wings wrapped around me. Pain courses through them, like the darkness is shredding their webbing.
Somewhere nearby I hear soft crying, barely rising above the crunching. There’s whispering and praying. Soft mutters of, “Stop, stop, make it stop.” I strike out again, readying to knock Adrial away.
Clenching my hands, I lift my head and search the shadows, focusing on the voice.
The murmuring rises, growing louder somewhere to my right.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, I follow the voice, wandering through the miasma, and I reach a naked form, curled up, rocking back and forth. I recognize Summer’s hair, her pale skin, and the subtle, corrupted scent of peaches. Our bond flares, ever so slightly.
I kneel before her. “Summer. It’s me.”
Trembling, she prays louder, rocking quicker. “No, no, no! Leave me alone!”
I lift my hands to touch her, but when she whimpers, becoming smaller, I hesitate. “I’m not him. Look at me.”
“Go away. Please!”
My chest constricts, wanting to draw her to me—hold her, soothe her bruises—anything to reassure her. However, my touch, kind as it may be, could cause further pain.
“Summer,” I whisper, shuffling closer. “Let me help you see.” Dropping my hands, I settle their backs against the ground, palms lifted, one on each side of her wilted form, placed so she may see their tenuous glow. Draping her in a cocoon of my wings, I shield her from Adrial’s menace. The light ebbs, weak—but even in this abyss, it is not entirely dark.
“It’s me,” I say again, my voice soft.
A few moments pass before she makes another sound, her body stiffening.
