How to Catch a Fish (ManxMan)

Chapter One: What Happened to Hope?

~Chapter One: What Happened to Hope?

"What if we-"

"Won't work," I interrupt, maneuvering around creatures that linger in the halls. My eyes, having long since adjusted to the dark, have no trouble picking out things that need to be avoided. The girl is not so lucky - tripping over a troll's foot, stepping on a kitsune's tail, banging her knee on a crate. One would think a cat would have better night vision, but it might just be too dark for her here.

Without the ability to shift, she is about as useful as a human would be. When I pictured someone being sent to help me escape, I thought of a strong demon who could tear this place apart or, better yet, my captain, Sidr. I did not expect them to send in a young Were, who is only a little stronger than a human in her current state. And if she has some sort of special ability, she has yet to show it.

"You don't even know what I was going to say," Heather growls, and I do not have to look back at her to know she is glaring at me. She has been trying for two days to convince me to plan another escape attempt. However, I have already tried almost everything, and nothing she has suggested is something I have yet to think of.

I shrug. "You've been saying the same thing since you showed up."

"So? Have you given up on escaping, then?" She demands, getting louder. Considering where we are passing through in the prison, though, she might want to lower her voice before someone or something decides to investigate.

As if summoned by mere thought alone, a looming shadow - something just barely visible out of the corner of my eye that would not have concerned me if I was alone - drags my attention towards an unusually dark cell as we pass by it. I quickly turn around and pull the still-arguing Were to me, causing the lunging wendigo to miss her by mere inches. The flesh-eater must have smelled her or something, and since Weres and witches are the closest it can get to eating a human down here, she is going to be its next meal if we do not leave.

However, I dare not leave just yet, as though I am of little interest to the thing, it might just follow us back to my cell. The humanoid creature bares its pointed teeth at both of us, though its red eyes remain locked on Heather. The grey fur clothing covering most of its body is matted and dirty, and its legs and arms, which are not covered by furs, are bloody. It is hard to tell if the blood is its own or if it belonged to something the creature ate. The upper part of its face is covered by what looks like the skull of a deer or some other kind of antlered mammal, making it is impossible to see more than its eyes through the empty sockets and the lower half of its face.

All in all, it is an ugly creature.

"She's mine, " I sneer, glaring at the creature that towers over us both, its antlers just barely scraping the ceiling. It is clearly not very smart if it decided that it would be a good idea to attack Heather when I, her protector, am right here, but it should hopefully be able to understand something as simple as that.

To my surprise, though, it responds. "Eventually, your guard will slip, and she will be mine, demon," it threatens, before disappearing once more into the darkness. It is still there, so I do not hesitate to grab Heather's wrist and drag her away from the wendigo's hall.

I do not release her until we are safely back in our cell, as even when we are a safe distance from the wendigo, there are still plenty of dangerous creatures living down here. The Were, for the most part, stay in groups for safety, so there is no shortage of other creatures that might want to take advantage of her lack of a pack. And it would be pointless to save her from the wendigo only for her to die a few minutes later from something else.

Still, at least there's only one wendigo down here; they're the worst from what I've heard.

"I haven't given up," I suddenly state, releasing her wrist before walking over to my mattress.