"A human," the Void purrs, voice rough with pleasure. "It's been an age since I killed one of your kind."
The creature scents the air with relish. Grime and goo slip from its curling black tongue. Greenish-brown vapors puff between its teeth.
"Your bodies decay beautifully." I stiffen as its gaze locks on Arden. "Oh, little Fairy Queen, never fear. Your bones will look lovely once consumed by my rot. It is time you join the rest of your kind in death."
My lips curl as my body goes rigid.
"Don't look at her," I snarl.
My head whips towards Arden. Her face is paler than I've ever seen it. The Void’s presence siphons her lifeforce. Withering like a bloom in winter, she sways on her feet. Only staying upright due to her hand on my shirt.
"Death is already upon you, little Queen. I can smell it," The Void chuckles. "Your magic is failing you. I destroyed the others at full power. You cannot stop me."
Arden's eyes begin to roll back. Her throat works as she tries to stop herself from throwing up. The power she radiates is all but depleted in the oppressive darkness. I have to act.
She needs me.
"Look over here, you ugly fuck!" I shout. "Your fight is with me."
The Void grins harder.
"Confident," it sighs. "I like that."
"I bet you do."
"If you wish to end me, you know where I am." It lifts its clawed hand. "That is if you survive this."
A spear of dark power streaks through the air.
The force of the blow rocks me back on my feet. It feels as if hot metal has been poured across my chest. Arden screams asthe darkness descends on us. Oily sludge and dark blood seep through my shirt.
The Void disappears in a dark cloud, a throaty chuckle echoing in its wake.
I press a hand to my chest, snarling at the pain. It radiates through my whole body, making it hard to breathe. My vision blurs as I fall to the ground. This is different than when the goo consumed me before. I can feel the writhing fingers in my blood, racing towards my heart.
Arden sinks beside me, no more than a wraith of pale green and pink. I feel her small hands as they divest me of my shirt.
Her gasp of horror makes my blood run cold.
"Oh Spirits, Finn?—"
"That's not the typical reaction when I take my shirt off."
"Be serious," she snaps, "and hold still. I need to burn out the infection."
Her magic brushes over me. Metal and roses coat my tongue. Her hands on my skin are a delight despite the pulsating pain tightening each of my muscles. I give in to her gentleness, letting her touch steady me.
It guides me away from the beckoning darkness I won't emerge from.
The longer she works on me with her fleeting magic, the more the pain begins to ebb away. My vision returns, as does feeling in my limbs.
I watch through half-lidded eyes as her hands glide over the harsh planes of my chest. Green magic flows between her palms, pulling out the writhing goo.
She traces fingers over each harsh ridge of my stomach. Sweat beads on her brow as her cheeks pale. I like holding her entire attention.
Being her singular focus is heady.
This is the most she's ever touched me. Despite death looming, I can’t help but want to test my luck. Just a little bit.
