Sam screamed until his voice gave out. No, he had to calm down. It wasn’t too late to turn the tables, to find her trail again. It was far too soon to give up, dammit. He wasn’t the kind to surrender.

Sam took a deep breath. He transformed into a dove and flew upward, soaring above the treetops. This way, he wouldn’t lose sight of that damned witch. As soon as she left the forest, he’d see her and swoop down. He just needed to be patient for once, wait for his moment, and never give up. He was good at that. He had an unyielding will of iron.

Now, he just needed to prove it.

——

Cristina and Heather ran in the opposite direction. Whatever that green cloud had just unleashed, the closer they got to it, the sicker they felt. There was no doubt about it. They still hadn’t recovered from the effects of the initial attack when they’d hidden and kept their distance.

Pestilence leaped forward, launching herself into the threshold. The creature smashed into a body and crashed into the hallway wall, knocking it down. She also tore off part of the door along with the wall as her arm brushed past it.

That didn’t matter, of course. It was insignificant. But Cristina couldn’t help thinking, "Damn it, they just fixed that."

A distraction, at least. It was better to think about anything else than the fact that Sam had left her to her fate. The sense of betrayal tightened like a knot in her throat.

Though it was a ridiculous, melodramatic feeling. He had only chosen—and out of hunger, really. She had no right to resent that decision.

Especially since she knew what had happened to him. She tried not to think about it, but it was hard not to connect the dots considering the state she’d found the two of them in.

Cristina shook her head and ran down the hallway alongside her sister.

The beast pursued them closely, roaring and howling. It punched walls, stomped the ground—a wild creature spreading destruction, chaos, and death.

And they had no idea how to defeat it. Not a single clue.

They reached the second floor. But at some point, they’d have to stop running, turn around, and face the monster.

Running or hiding was useless. It wasn’t as though it would drop dead from exhaustion. The more energy they wasted on futile actions, the slimmer their chances of victory. Cristina was well aware of that.

Of course, they had been attacking with water and stone as they ran, firing backward. But the attacks were useless. So it was the same thing. The only effective thing they were doing was running.

Effective only in delaying the inevitable.

Cristina bit down hard on her lower lip. Soon, she tasted blood filling her mouth.

But Pestilence surprised her, suddenly appearing in the middle of the hallway.

How? Simple: she jumped, bursting through the floor. Or, for her, the ceiling.

——

Cristina should’ve guessed as much when she saw her lagging behind. But in the moment, she’d simply thought that even if their attacks couldn’t hurt her, at least they’d slow her down.

She had been stupid. She hadn’t given her enough credit. That thing had been scheming, plotting how to catch them off guard. And it had worked, even with Heather—unexpectedly so.

The strangled gasp and the speed with which Heather staggered backward on trembling legs made it clear something was very wrong.

Usually, Heather was the smarter one—the one standing with her arms crossed, saying, "I told you so" when things went south. But this wasn’t a normal situation, of course. Both of them were terrified.

It was impossible to think clearly with a monster like that on your heels.

She was supposed to have been rich and privileged from the start—from her very first breath.

If only.

The bubble that had kept her in her own world had burst, and apparently, there was no going back. Just an endless string of nightmares, each worse than the last.

So many horrible things had happened to her in just a few days, and yet she still wasn’t used to it. Or maybe precisely because of that—because she hadn’t had time to breathe.

In any case, she was sick of all of this.

“What the hell can we do to kill this monster?”

She needed to think. She needed to think, but nothing came to mind.

She wished she could count on heaven’s help, on Archangel Michael, but in the office, she figured that if he were going to intervene, he’d have done so by now.

He’d stood by when War took Sam but intervened at the last moment. Only at the last moment.

Maybe there was still some hope.

But they weren’t like Sam. They wouldn’t survive until the last moment. And they weren’t indispensable.

Somehow, they had to find a way to handle this now.

Pestilence had left them with no choice but to retreat.

There were no more stairs to climb—not within reach. Just a window and a steep fall.

No. Not just that.

They could do what the monster had done—force their way to the upper floor by taking the shortest route, causing even more destruction to the mansion that had just been restored.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

It didn’t matter, but the thought still bothered her.

Cristina bit her lower lip. She had only seconds to make a decision. Time seemed to slow down, but Pestilence would be upon them very soon.

Even if they made it to the third floor, what would they achieve?

Pestilence would simply follow through the same hole or make another. The fact was, she would pursue them effortlessly.

“Out the window,” Cristina shouted.

At least in open terrain, it would be easier to dodge the gases and maintain some distance. Overcome the effects of her mere presence.

The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was it was the best option.

But thinking time was over.

Cristina jumped through the window, raising her arms to shield her head.

The glass shattered into a thousand pieces on impact. Broken shards followed her, tinkling as she fell.

And of course, Heather followed too. She wouldn’t leave her alone. Not like Sam, a treacherous voice whispered in her mind, even under these circumstances.

They landed safely, each cushioning themselves with their respective magic. They stood on the grass and turned to look back at the mansion, at the window they had jumped through.

Pestilence leaped without a second thought, landing without bending her knees, absorbing the force of the impact as if it were nothing.

A bad fall from three stories was enough to kill any human without magical intervention. But Pestilence reacted as if she had simply stepped through a doorway into another room of the mansion—utterly unfazed.

“What do we do?” Cristina shouted as the creature closed in alarmingly fast.

Of course, they were already running in the opposite direction as fast as their legs would carry them.

“I don’t know! Just—give me a moment!” Heather suddenly stopped, pivoting to face the monster. Cristina could feel her gathering magical energy, shaping it, but there was still no visible result, and she suspected it would take time to complete whatever she was preparing.

Cristina clicked her tongue in frustration and also turned around, stepping in front of Heather to shield her, to buy her that precious time. She could only hope they had enough of it—that this wasn’t the end.

——

Sam finally caught up with the fucking bitch. He dove at her, letting out the most menacing sound a dove’s throat could produce—which wasn’t very menacing at all.

Hunger noticed immediately, of course. She turned and threw a punch, but Sam dodged it easily. Shifting back into his human form mid-flight, he landed on top of her, slamming her to the ground. A spear of ice materialized in his hand in an instant.

With a guttural battle cry, Sam aimed for her heart and thrust the weapon downward. But he missed. The spear lodged in her shoulder instead.

Sam attempted to pull it out of the wound to try again, but Hunger's strength kept it in place. He realized he wouldn’t be able to recover it and accepted that fact quickly.

Rolling off her, he tumbled across the grass, streaked now with blood. Rising as fluidly as possible, Sam formed a barrage of ice weapons, floating above his head.

“Die, die, die, die!”

The wall of icy spears rained down on Hunger like a descending steel curtain.

——

Cristina felt herself faltering, her strength slipping away, just as Heather finally acted.

The ground beneath the abomination crumbled, giving way to a deep pit like an earthen maw. Pestilence plunged into the hole along with a cascade of dirt and dust.

Cristina managed to leap aside just in time and immediately rushed to the edge to peer down.

She could see the creature clearly even in the pit’s depths, clawing at the sides, trying to climb back up.

“Get back!” Heather warned her. “We need to seal that damn hole!”

“How?”

Heather tilted her head toward the trees in the forest. No further explanation was needed.

——

Hunger evaded all of Sam’s attacks with ease, as always. She moved leisurely, as if she had all the time in the world.

When she reached him, she placed both hands around his neck and squeezed.

Effortlessly, she lifted him off the ground as if he were nothing more than a rag doll, then slammed him back down with incredible force.

The impact knocked the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping and trembling on the ground. Hunger’s grip tightened.

At first, Sam thought she was trying to break his neck, but then—suddenly—her hands released him.

It wasn’t a conscious decision; she was forced to let go.

A massive stalactite of ice had pierced through her chest, shattering her ribcage.

——

Cristina grabbed one of the nearest trees, wrapping the trunk with a coil of water. With all her might, she wrenched it from the ground.

She did exactly as Heather had instructed, using the tree to seal the pit. Slamming it down like a giant stake, she wedged it firmly into place.