The Strings Between Us

I'm Choosing This

The doors to the ritual hall slammed open.

Jonathon Chiller disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

As the smoke cleared, it revealed something truly horrifying.

An enormous beast burst in — hunch-backed, fang-jawed, with one broken horn and glowing red eyes, growling.

Belinda froze.

Slappy took a step forward, green flames gathering at his fingertips.

"Step back." He ordered Belinda.

The monsters lunged.

Slappy moved faster.

Green fire shot from his hands, slamming into the stone floor and knocking the beast back slightly, but it was too strong.

Belinda ducked behind the altar, heart pounding.

Slappy and his magic were protecting her.

But it was weakening.

The beast knocked Slappy off his feet. He hit the ground hard.

Belinda ran to him.

"Slappy!" she cried, holding him up.

"You have to do the spell," he choked. "Do it now. Send yourself back to your world and save yourself. While the moon's still—"

"No! I can't leave you!"

"Belinda—!"

A roar silenced them both.

The one-horned beast strode forward, claws out, ready to finish it.

Belinda stood.

Between it and Slappy.

Her porcelain hands curled into fists.

"You want a fight?" she said. "Pick on someone who's not injured."

The beast growled low, a sound like grinding stone.

It crouched, preparing to pounce.

Belinda's eyes darted to the wall.

Above the altar, mounted as decoration, was a long ceremonial sword — silver and black, its hilt shaped like a twisted serpent. Dust clung to it, but the blade gleamed under the moonlight, sharp and waiting.

She didn't hesitate.

With a burst of movement, she sprinted to the wall and leapt—porcelain heels scraping the stone as she climbed onto the pedestal.

The sword came free with a metallic shriek.

The beast lunged.

Belinda turned just in time, swinging wide.

The blade caught its shoulder — slicing deep. It howled, recoiling.

She stepped forward, the sword steady in her grip despite her trembling hands.

The beast charged again. This time she met it head-on.

She ducked low, rolled under its slash, and drove the blade upward — straight into the beast's underbelly. It shrieked, writhing as violet blood sprayed the stones.

One of the monster guards tried to intervene, but Slappy held up a hand.

"Let her finish it."

Belinda yanked the sword free and spun, striking again — a clean, sharp arc that sent the creature stumbling back toward the runic circle.

The beast howled one last time and imploded in a burst of black mist and curling shadow.

Stone slowly settled. Dust drifted through the air like snow. The scent of scorched magic lingered, crackling faintly in the walls like static.

The throne room was empty now — the wizard gone, the monsters dismissed.

Belinda stood shaking in the middle of it all.

The hall was still now.

The rebellion crushed.

Only two remained.

But the moonlight was fading — slipping past its zenith.

And the spell was ready.

Slappy steadily stood up, and slowly walked to her.

Belinda quickly turned and rushed over to him.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm.. fine. But the spell.. There isn't much time left." He stammered. "You need to use it—you were nearly killed. You aren't safe here."

Belinda looked at him, her eyes filled with anxiety and regret.

"If I use it," she said, "I lose this. I lose you. I lose what I've become."

"You'll be free," he said. "You'll go home."

"You're my home now."

He looked up at her — bruised, shaken, silent.

The spellbook glowed.

She stepped toward the podium where it layed—

And closed the book.

"I'm not ready to forget," she said softly. "As much as I wanted to be human again, it's not worth losing you."

Slappy stared.

"You'd stay cursed?"

"I'm not cursed anymore."

She helped him up, their hands entwined.

"I'm choosing this."