Lock And Key Game Tasks

Task Three: The Minotaur Wars

"You do realize you're supposed to be my eyes, right? What kind of seeing-eye dog are you?" he muttered sarcastically.

He could practically feel her eyes glaring at him. "Shush it! It's not my fault I'm not sure how to describe it!"

Chuckling, he turned back toward the door. "Yeah... Let's just go a different way."

The next room they found wasn't any better.

There were stomps on the ground, telling Sartan whatever it was inside the room, was massive and heavy. It bellowed, making Sartan's ears ring. "What kind of creature is that?"

"It's... um... a giant bull with horns? Carrying an axe around? But it looks like a man too? Uh...?"

"Sparrow! What is it?"

"I don't remember what it's called! Men—min-ah... Um..."

"Do you mean minotaur?" Sartan asked.

"Yep, it's a minotaur!"

Sartan would have chuckled, but was too focused on the creature. "Sure... mess with the blind guy. Seriously, though what is it?"

"No, seriously it's a minotaur!"

Sartan tapped his spear against the ground, trying to get a sense for what it looked like. It snorted loudly, and the ground shook.

"Look out!" Sparrow shouted.

Sartan felt for the vibrations carefully. As they became stronger, he jumped to the right and jabbed his spear to the left. The blow jerked his hands backward.

"It didn't penetrate the skin!"

"Yes, thank you for the commentary!" Sartan shouted back.

"Just trying to help!"

"I need to hear!" He clenched his spear tighter and turned around to face the direction the footsteps came from. Darting toward it, he slid on his knees across the floor and stabbed upwards when he felt the air around him close in, which told him he had slid underneath it.

His hand jerked again, and he cursed. My spear won't penetrate its' skin no matter where I try to stab it, he thought. He forced his breathing to stay calm.

Suddenly, pain flared in his arm. He hissed and turned, but something slammed against his chest.

"Sartan!"

As he crumbled to the floor several feet away, gasping for breath, he tried to open his mouth to tell her to stay away, but he couldn't breathe.

Its' hot breath fell against his skin, but he forced himself to a fast crawl. "Stay back!" he screamed at Sparrow, hoping she listened.

Forcing himself to his shaky feet, he gasped, finally able to catch his breath. "What kind of weapon does it have?"

"An axe," came Sparrow's frantic reply. He guessed the blade must have grazed his arm, and then swung back around to crack him sideways against his chest, or the minotaur could have kicked him. He wasn't too sure.

A loud bellow echoed from behind him. He turned, and barely had enough time to jump out of the way as the thundering footsteps neared him. The air whooshed by in front of him, so he ducked, and lunged toward the harsh breathing.

Once again, his hand jerked, telling him his spear still hadn't stabbed it.

"Watch ou—"

Ignoring Sparrow's warning, Sartan twisted to the right, avoiding where he thought it would strike next, but agony rippled through his side. He collapsed on the ground, and distantly heard Sparrow scream.