90 DEADLY DAYS (WEEKLY UPDATES RETURNING THIS DECEMBER)

Chapter 30

"Death is coming! You know you can't escape it. Though, do you even want to? There's nothing left for you here! The Raider will drown you with sins and the end of this war is worse than anything you've ever imagined. Come with me! Come with me to meet your Hades!"

Why do they ask? They know I have no choice.

The game's already over. The Fynx even now sinks its daggers into my flesh. My eyes bulge as pain envelopes every core.

Without warning, a black shadow springs on the terrible creature. The crushing weight skids off my chest. I gasp for air like a dying fish whilst facing the awful blackness next to me, straining to see.

A deadly skirmish ensues. I only get wind of the noise of the battle, but that is enough to let me know the struggle turns gory. The Fynx continues cracking blood-thirsty jaws, yowling wickedly like an infuriated cat. A human groans and yells too. My face turns white hearing them.

The Raider attempts to fight a fiend larger than a small boulder, with jaws that could clamp straight through steel. And in the dark. In absolute darkness!

As the battle crashes and rolls throughout the hole, slamming into the walls, I scamper for the fire hearth, trying to make sense of it all.

Why put your life on the line? It was different outrunning the shadows, both of our lives were endangered and the rescue was convenient. This time there's no possible way of escape, even a death soldier couldn't defeat a Fynx. They are too large, too endowed with supernatural and vicious strength to overcome. Butcher would know this better than anyone.

Although, he likely jumped in the battle with fate because he feared for himself. But if he only cared for his life he could have aimed one of his precious guns when it came for him. There would have been plenty of time for strategy—heck, he could have started down the shaft at the end of the burrow.

He's going to die.

Oh! I don't understand!

He tumbled into the mix because somehow saving himself wasn't enough. This has to be so! Why else would he do it? To keep me alive so he could finish the revenge he started? Revenge isn't that potent. Even if it was, he would know jumping in the midst of things would cost him his life—no one can kill a Fynx. There's a reason they're in this hell.

Blood streams from the incisions at my neck. At first I think it spills on the floor too, but there's too much of it to be mine. It's smeared everywhere, splattering on the walls. I have to squeeze my eyes shut to keep from gagging.

At the fire hearth I dig for matches. Butcher always leaves them here. Horror floods when I realize the struggle smacked them into oblivion. Fire was the only viable weapon against the Fynx. Now this slaughter is doomed to happen in consuming blackness where only the Fynx will have an advantage.

But the slaughter doesn't have to include me.

If I continue straight I can make it to the shaft, even in the dark. I wouldn't be wrong for it. In fact, perhaps fate dealt the born killer this hand purposefully. Your sins will surely find you out, they say. Someone with that much innocent blood on their hands deserves to die this way. I would even call it justice.

For now, I ignore my screaming conscious. I remind it of what Butcher has done to me, this night even! His life is worth nothing. I can't believe I pity him—there's a pile of dead that celebrate this addition to the tombs.

He's a murderer!

A mass murderer!

I imagine white hands reaching out to me, begging me to let death run its course so that they may finally rest in peace, so that they may finally have their due justice. Right now their killer still lives.