I pulled out my own axe and crossed over into the expanded cavern. Dark, endlessly so. It was impossible to see the other side of the cavern; the shadows acted like a sponge, absorbing the meager light from the vials.

The smell intensified. A burning feeling began to spread through my chest. The foreign thoughts didn't say any words, but I could feel them scratching, readying, like a cat prepared to pounce.

Devon moved forward, his spear unhooked from its sheath. When he met the curtain of darkness, he pushed through, striding forward, unbothered by the shadows.

Alice entered next, and I followed, my steps strangely silent in the space. When the shadows began draping over my skin, my cloak created another smaller, thinner shell closer to my body.

The shadows couldn't penetrate the barrier, bringing a small, teeny, tiny sense of relief. That feeling ended the moment my eyesight cleared enough to see through to the other side.

Devon stood still, his spear pointed forward, while Alice looked ready to leap into action. They stared down at an elevated arena platform hosting a circle filled with what looked like sand, the color of midnight.

Several tunnels continued off from the far walls, but that wasn't what they stared at.

No.

What had the three of us staring was the pulsing black spikes impaling a tall, lanky figure. They portuded from his body and stabbed into the sand underneath.

Their form writhed and shifted, pulling away before being snapped back into place. It was as if the idea of a limb, the idea of a body, the idea of blood made up the creature.

Three horns jutted from its head, wavering into three lines of black smoke. The torso, where the spikes punctured through, shifted between being solid grey and endless black before reverting into a shadowy haze that threatened to expand and lose shape.

When the creature turned its head, the familiar all-too-wide smile stretched across and past the sides of its mouth. Malevolent red eyes pulsed in time with the spikes.

"So, the Grimms have to collect their prey from the trap," it spoke in a voice that tickled against the back of my neck while sounding loud and clear. "I expected better from you, Hunters."

Devon stayed silent and dropped down into the arena. Alice went to follow, but Devon held up a hand and shook his head.

Right. Let Devon handle this.

"Hmm… Red got your tongue?" it taunted.

Devon ignored it and pushed against the sand. If it wasn't obvious before, it was now, and he nearly limped as parts of the floor crumbled, forcing his foot to slide backward.

"The little wolf has a maimed leg. The hunters from before would have never approached me so injured. Has the quality gone down so much since my imprisonment?"

Again, he stayed silent, even as the creature began to shift.

"Fine. The elder wants to hold his tongue to keep cool in front of the pups. You hide the crushed organs and snapped bones well. But do they know how fragile your Lore Strain really is?" There was a pause, then it laughed. "What about the thing attached? Do they know the danger you pose to them?"

"Enough," Devon commanded.

The smile grew before rubberbanding back into place with a painful screech. It clawed at my eardrums, but the sound morphed into deep, rumbling laughter.

"Ahh, so I've touched a nerve. You need to do better, little wolf. Being exhausted is no excuse to lower your defenses. So, why shouldn't I reveal your dangerous little secret?"

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Devon raised his hand, and the spikes flared before rotating. Another screech and the creature sunk deeper, its limbs falling away as the eyes flashed. They grew three sizes before they, too, reverted to normal.

"Torture? You'll have to do better than that."

Another pulse from the rune on Devon's hand, and the spikes pulsated with a wave of energy. It forced me back.

Horrific wailing filled the cavern walls, bouncing directly into my ears. I raised my hood, but I could still hear it.

Its pitch oscillated from deep to shrill and continued for several seconds. The sound stopped, and Devon slumped forward.

In an instant, the creature shifted, and one of its long legs scratched at Devon's pants. Sharp claws penetrated the fabric, but the binding's restrictions forced them back.

"You could kill me instantly; why haven't you, Grimm?"

Devon raised his spear and held it to the creature's throat. Where iron met shadow, the shadows recoiled, and a hissing sound echoed through the cave.

I smelled it again, the disgustingly sweet odour.

A deep revulsion rose from the bottom of my gut and continued until I tasted bile on my tongue. I leaned back and quickly covered my nose.

What the hell? That's… potent.

A noise made me turn, and I saw Alice shaking. When she looked up, her eyes were fully crimson. Her canines were exposed, and a rumble came from her throat that built until she snapped her jaw shut.

Like a switch, she nearly collapsed. As she regained her footing, sheshook her head. The crimson stayed, but the feral hunger from before faded away.

"Alice?" I whispered.

That was a mistake.

Pressure ramped up, smothering me. It felt like a giant's fist, and my cloak flared in response. The pressure eased, but not enough, and I felt a sharp warning coming from the red fabric.

When the cold came, it bit into my flesh like needles trying to worm their way in. I gritted my teeth and raised my arm. Nothing physical touched me, but I felt it; I knew something was there.

Then the feeling stopped, and more screeching filled the space.

When it ended, the chuckle returned, and Devon forced the spear closer in a single sweep.

The spikes flared and sank deeper into the sand.

"Disappointing, Cain Veldman. I hoped we could come to a deal, one prisoner to another," it said with enough emotion that I would have awarded an Oscar for its performance.

Not even if hell froze over.

"Oh yeah, you totally trust the monster in your closet. What did you expect?" I replied sarcastically.

Devon snapped his head around and glared. I balled my hand into a fist and exhaled slowly.

That messed with me more than I thought.

I tapped my cloak.

You okay?

It didn't respond, but the strings around my hood tightened, and I smiled. However, the memory of cold pinpricks created a rising explosion in my chest. I remained silent, not willing to defy Devon's warning.

The creature chuckled, but I felt its presence shift away.

"What do you want?" Devon asked.

He adjusted the spear to move an inch closer, and the smell came back. Not knowing what to do, I shuffled closer to Alice and tapped her on the shoulder. She snarled, crimson glowing menacingly in the dark, but she stilled her shaking and raised her head.

She nodded once before focusing on the arena below us.

"Who corroded the chains on the anchor stones?" Devon asked.

"Oh? Those? I thi-" Its words were cut off by Devon flicking his wrist, cutting a sizzling line across its chest. "Hah! Just a mortal looking to change their fate. Nothing more."

Another line cut, this time across its horns. Instead of rebuilding, one horn stayed shorter than the others, bringing the glowing red eyes back into focus. The creature rose up and extended its hand, straining even as the spikes began to spin.

But even as it tried, it couldn't lay a claw on Devon, who slammed his spear down through its arm. The limb exploded on contact, and the creature recoiled. Alice shuddered, and I couldn't block the disgusting, sweet smell out.

Kill! Purge the prey!

Fire rushed through my veins. The shadows fell away. I knew I felt it from the energy surging up my neck and to my face—it triggered a part of the shift.

I reined in the killdrive by pressing my nails against my palm.

If Devon felt the same effects as Alice, he didn't show it. And he really should have. He was much closer than her, yet his shoulders remained still; the only sign of weakness from the man was the twitch in his pinky gripping the spear.

"What did you do with the people you lured away?" Devon demanded.

"Oh. So even the man without a heart can feel for the humans under his maw?" it teased in a strained voice. The smile grew until it curled up the sides of its face.

"Well. If you want to rescue the mortals so badly… I suppose you can speak to them."

From the sand, a single limb, long and pale, emerged. It rose slowly, the midnight-black grains falling away as an elbow appeared, then the biceps, and finally, a shoulder—a sleeveless shirt made of blue thread extended out as another hand popped into view.

This time, the voice echoed through the screeching, cutting through the double voices and glided across my thoughts.

"Go on. Say hello."