[#Battle the Beast] -3- Samodiva

Самодива // Samodiva

The portal opened over a street.

Quentin struck the pavement hard. His jeans, already torn and singed in places, bloomed red splotches over the knees. Quentin barely felt the pain. He pushed to his feet and started running. The ground lurched before he was halfway down the block, sending him stumbling into a light post. Quentin's heart dropped.

The portal hadn't closed in time.

The earth shifted under his feet as he ran, vibrating with the weight of something enormous. There was a bus shelter at the corner of the street. A woman waited inside. Quentin's eyes slipped over her to the shelter's glass walls. He searched the world reflected in them for monsters with bloodstained teeth. His own face stared back, pale and wild-eyed. No monsters. Nothing but cars and trees and buildings behind him.

Quentin looked over his shoulder.

Burning red eyes caught his.

Quentin tripped. He would've dived nose-first into the sidewalk if not for the hand that shot out to grip his arm. Quentin looked up. The woman from the bus stop was frowning down at him.

"I'm alright," Quentin stuttered. "Please, let me - let-"

The monster roared. Quentin's teeth snapped over a whimper.

The woman shifted her grip. Her hand slipped into Quentin's, their fingers interlacing.

"Come on."

The woman broke into a run. Quentin stumbled in her wake, disorientated and confused. He found himself steered through a network of side-streets and narrow alleyways. His lungs protested the hard pace. His feet fell heavy, muscles aching from hours of strain.

The woman veered to the right. They ran through someone's backyard. Quentin tripped over an inflatable kiddie pool.

"Shit, there's a fence!"

The fence exploded in a burst of white light and sawdust. They barreled through the remains, then down a slight incline and across a ditch. Another fence, this one short and easily surmountable, and they were running on grass rather than asphalt.

"We're - this is a park."

"Yes."

"The monster came from a forest. This is its home turf. We should-" Quentin looked over his shoulder. His gait, already unsteady, faltered.

"It's gone," he breathed.

The woman nodded. She looked around, prompting Quentin to do the same. They were in a small clearing. Trees grew around them, clumping densely at their back. A river rushed just out of sight. The sound of water splashing over rocks was clear and sharp.

Silence reigned over all else.

"It's here, isn't it," Quentin whispered.

"Yes. Remain calm."

"You don't know - it's going to kill us. It's going to rip us apart, I saw it happen- I saw-" Quentin gasped for air. His legs were shaking, his hands too.

The woman grasped his elbow with her free hand, steadying him. "Look at me."

Quentin looked up. Large brown eyes caught his. Quentin's shoulders relaxed from their tight clench.

"Talk," the woman said.

"What about?"

"Anything. Yourself. Tell me your name."

"Quentin. Coldwater. That's um, first and last."

"Where did you come from?"

"Fillory. Brakebills before that. Which is in New York. I think." Quentin bit his lip. Awareness was seeping back in. Something - something wasn't quite right. "Where am I now?"