The hourglass stands crooked on its base, the stone beneath it tilted by the shifting sand. If I can break the glass, it’ll fall. Crush them. Maybe even kill them.
I run.
Sand sprays behind me, muscles burning, the world narrowing to the towering hourglass ahead. But the leeches don’t react. They don’t chase.
They don’t even notice me.
Why would they? I’m one person. There are dozens of meals behind them.
I stop short, pulse hammering against my ribs. My mind locks on their name.
Fleshleeches. Meat. Blood.
I tighten my grip on the pin. Don’t think, just act.
I slash.
Pain explodes through my arm as the sharp tip cuts deep. A strangled gasp tears free, my fingers spasming, but I keep going.
Blood Magic surges beneath my skin, sealing the wound as fast as it opens.
I slash again. And again. Screaming—at the pain, at the rage, at the damnable efficiency of the magic that refuses to let me bleed.
Enough blood eventually wells up, dripping between my fingers. I clench my fist, forcing more to fall before the power can stitch me shut again.
Then I see movement.
All three leeches jerk their heads toward me. Their bodies whip around, teeth gnashing in a frenzy.
They come for me.
I run.
The ground quakes beneath me as they surge forward, massive bodies plowing through sand. Their screeches tear the air, suctioned underbellies rippling as they close the distance far too fast.
I veer left, then right, dodging wildly.
They don’t slow.
Something grabs my foot—a wet, suffocating clamp around my calf. It yanks me back.
I hit the ground hard, choking on sand. I thrash, clawing at the ground, but the teeth come next.
The nearest leech’s cavernous maw clamps onto my foot, its spiraled fangs shredding through the soft leather of my shoe, sinking toward my skin. I twist, kicking hard. The shoe tears free, and the creature’s jaws close on empty air while I scramble away, my leg spared.
The chaos erupts around me. Another Fleshleech collides into the first, slamming with enough force to shake the ground.
The shock knocks me loose.
I crash into the sand, gasping. The leeches want me, my mind tries to reason, but now they want me from each other.
They spiral together, a tangled, writhing mass of flesh. Wet bodies collide and crush, snapping and biting in blind frenzy.
And I’m trapped between them.
A massive coil slams me down. Another crashes over my back, shoving me into the ground. Desperation surges. I claw at the slick flesh, shoving, writhing, forcing any gap I can find.
The leeches thrash and coil, squeezing tighter. A tail whips across my side, hurling me through the air.
