STAINED VINES!
Adam called upon his ink, bringing the hefty shield up just in time to block the Curse’s ghostly attack. A shrill ringing noise resounded when the claws met Dragonforged metal. He felt a brief moment of triumph. It lasted until he found himself being flung backwards at high speeds, his feet no longer touching the ground. As Adam crashed into a harsh stone wall, he realized he’d been too naive.
My...back...
Stars swam through his vision, and pain swam through his mind. He immediately focused his thoughts on cataloging what he’d just learned – it would help him think straight. Aside from finding out that Solara’s Curse hit like a truck, he’d also confirmed Tenver’s claim that the Dragonforged shield could withstand anything except Rot, although that didn’t mean it nullified the force impact of an attack.
This meant two things. First, Adam wasn’t sure if carrying around a shield that was this incredibly heavy would be of much use. And second...it meant that Solara’s curse probably wasn’t related to the Rot – not exactly, anyway. If it was, then the attack would have gone through his shield.
Which probably would be relevant, assuming he survived. Granted, big assumption.
“You...from the World of Ink...will you try to Paint me? Do you think I will let you?”
“Can’t say that I’m a huge fan of that idea,” Adam spat out. Good – he could still talk, despite his ribs hurting like hell. That was something, at least. “It’s not like I know enough about Solara to steal her Talent.”
“Will you die and give me your Ink?”
“Can’t say I’m a huge fan of that either,” Adam managed, letting out a low, bitter laugh. He wasn’t delusional about his chances – however, that didn’t mean he was out of options. If he couldn’t steal her Talent, then... “Well, I doubt this is what Vasco had in mind when he asked me to save his daughter, but so long as I remove her curse the guy probably won’t be too picky about it.”
He cracked his neck. “I’ll just kill her once. That should exorcise her. Shouldn’t be a problem when she can die twice, right?”
The Curse swung through the air, guided by an invisible rope. Peals of laughter rang through the air. The sounds echoed across the room, like a legion of Curses laughing in tandem, somehow seeming to come from inside Adam’s own head.
“GIVE—ME—YOUR—INK!”
It lunged forward, legs kicking against nothing to gain momentum, using the air itself as if it were an invisible wall. Vapour emanated from the Curse’s uneven claws, now burning bright red. They swung directly for Adam’s throat.
If that touches me, I’m super dead. Adam tried to run, but his knees wouldn’t respond, still wobbly from the last impact. He glanced at the Dragonforged shield and considered raising it once more, before ultimately discarding the idea. One more block and my fucking ribs would break. In that case–
Adam’s Stained Vines unfurled towards the ascending staircase, wrapping around its bannister. He tried pulling himself away, but after an initial surge of momentum, came to a dead halt. Swearing loudly, he let go of the shield and hastily pulled again. This time he snapped over like an arrow in flight, his shoulder colliding with the railing and sending him tumbling on top of the spiral stairs.
He’d hurt his head on the landing, but there was no time to whine. Where – where is the Curs–
It was no longer flying. Instead, it had gotten down on the floor, crawling on all fours like a rabid dog. The thing’s limbs were growing at uneven rates, its stomach faced the ceiling, and its eyes were pitch-black voids, two reminders of the Stained. When it raced forward, swinging arms and legs to climb up the staircase like a spider, Adam could barely remember that the body used to be human.
There wasn’t time to think. By the time he’d used his Stained Vines to pull himself into the room above, he hadn’t even finished processing what his eyes were seeing. His heart raced and his mind converged into a strange combination of thoughts, some half-formed, some nearly incomprehensible – yet with his body somehow acting as if it understood them all.
Is this what it’s like to be filled with adrenaline? Even in the painted world, Adam had never been in a situation like this before. He’d been nearly killed and risked his life on several occasions, but not once had he fought a grotesque abomination leaping at him with the intent to kill. This wasn’t simply another instance of gambling with his life.
This was a duel to the death.
“Sharpen, Stained Vines.” The ink swirling around his arm straightened at the end; still flexible, but with its tip as sharp as any arrow. Once that thing climbs up to follow me...I’ll stab it straight through. A part of him felt ashamed at how easily he’d acclimatized to this. He knew a normal person should have felt conflicted, that they most likely would’ve trembled in fear and agonized over the insanity unfurling before their very eyes.
But Adam was grinning.
“Come on!” he shouted, with manic laughter inside his heart, yet not quite leaving his throat. Maybe it was for the best if he couldn’t make it back to Earth. Maybe this place had messed him up too much for that. “What’s the matter? Are you afraid of me, Curse?” Or maybe he was already messed up long before ever coming here.
Adam readied his Stained Vines, waiting for the Curse to show up at the top of the staircase. Even if it’s faster than me, it only has one way of approaching. At this angle, I have the upper hand.
Those thoughts were still passing through his mind when sharpened claws ripped into his shoulder.
Huh? Adam stumbled back, his shoulder weeping blood as the Curse’s laughter surrounded him. That...wasn’t just speed. I was watching the staircase the entire time, how – how did it show up without me noticing?
His body started to go limp. The pain didn’t register at first, all of it happening so fast that his injuries seemed to just...become reality in an instant. He could feel the Curse standing behind him, emanating sheer dread from every aspect of its existence. A part of him wondered if it was time to accept death.
NO, he yelled at himself. Adam was far too used to fighting against his own negativity to throw in the towel here. He gave control of his body to adrenaline, rolling on the ground, unseen attacks whipping over his head. Like he’d practiced, his blood turned to ink as he dodged, stopping him from bleeding out entirely. While it probably wouldn’t save him if his vitals were destroyed, it would at least prevent him from succumbing to major blood loss.
“Focus.” Adam forced himself to stand, scanning the room for the Curse. There was nothing, not even a window it could have used to surprise him from, just the flickering of the many torches on the wall. “This thing isn’t invincible. I’m not dead yet. I can beat it. I can–”
“Oh? Defeat me? You?”
The creature’s icy voice felt like more of an attack than its next act of violence. Once again, the Curse had moved faster than mere speed could allow it to, reappearing behind him and then pressing its lips against Adam’s wounded shoulder. He tried leaping away, but the Curse’s tongue extended like a frog and dragged itself over his skin, drinking in whatever blood – whatever ink he had not sealed inside.
This time Adam made sure not to take his eyes away from the monster, even as he ran away. At no point did the monster try to give chase, which was almost as upsetting as it was unnerving. What, don’t want to finish me off? Don’t think I’m a threat?
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
He almost wished he had. That way, he wouldn’t have seen the creature’s grotesque form start to stabilize. Somehow, the closer it looked to being a human, the eerier it felt. It still didn’t look entirely like Lady Solara, but now its monstrously large appendages were almost human sized, now closer to actual arms instead of tentacles.
“Ah...the Ink sings to me. So sweet, so...natural,” the creature said. Its voice had stopped echoing at the end, yet it was a deep, masculine timbre that spoke borrowing Solara’s throat. “Would you care to give me more, my dear Painter? You need not worry – I won’t kill you if you surrender. If you die, the Ink will become blood once more. I cannot waste this opportunity!”
“Anyone ever tell you that you’re way too chatty for a curse?” Adam barked out, trying to catch his breath. Wait...I was just talking shit, but that seems relevant. The more ink it eats, the more control it seems to get over its body.
“You haven’t replied to my proposition yet.”
Adam snickered, his breathing ragged and his eyes dancing with a caricature of joy. “Oh, I didn’t? My bad.” He quickly scanned the room. It was the same as the floor beneath – large, circular, decorated ostentatiously, and with no windows in sight. There were bookshelves rather than the dining table, but it was extremely similar otherwise, and equally as dark.
No matter how hard he looked, there were only two ways out of the room—the staircase leading down, and the staircase leading up.
Where? Where did it come from? There’s no windows. Even a secret passage wouldn’t make sense, so how – fuck it, I’ll figure it out as I go.
The Curse stirred.
STAINED VINES! The monster leaped sideways to dodge an attack that never came. Instead of going on the offensive, Adam wrapped his vines around the staircase railing leading to the next floor, then pulled himself up towards it. He didn’t trust his legs to move quickly enough to make an escape, especially since his knees were still wobbly after the Curse’s last attack.
It was far from a dignified landing, and the way he crashed shoulder-first against the railing before making it over hurt tremendously, but it was better than letting that thing catch him. Adam stumbled to his feet and rushed over to the next floor. Keep thinking. Don’t lose sight of what’s happening. Is this room any different than the last?
No. The furniture changed slightly, but not the amount of exits, and even now there were no windows. If Adam recalled what the enormous tower had looked like from the outside, they were still a couple floors away from the lowest window he’d seen.
That helped him narrow down his thoughts. He glared down at the staircase and swirled his ink in the air, connected to his arm only by a thin line. In a hurry, he extended it toward the steps so it would catch the monster as it approached, speed be damned.
Pain exploded behind him.
“Where the hell—?” Light-headedness set in as Adam forced his new wounds – this time on the other shoulder – to close. He spun around in circles a few times, eyes searching, but found nothing.
Yet the moment he stopped turning, the Curse appeared from behind, this time inflicting a deep cut on his back before disappearing again.
“Fight me, you coward!” Adam demanded. It was an empty taunt, but he didn’t have much else. Even an elaborate magic elevator wouldn’t explain this. Somehow, the Curse seemed able to appear from virtually any angle. Can it teleport?
No. If it could, then it wouldn’t be waiting for Adam to stop turning before it appeared. “Think. Add everything up. There has to be an answer. What’s that thing’s power? Think...I have to...keep...thinking!”
His mounting blood loss, exhaustion, and fear made it hard to steady his rationality. Even so, Adam refused to allow himself to stop searching for a solution. Since the moment he’d arrived in the painted world – hell, since the moment he’d been born – his capacity to link logical details together had been the only thing keeping him alive.
What did he know so far?
1) It doesn’t attack when I’m constantly turning around. This means it doesn’t want me to know where it’s appearing from.
2) It’s not just speed, or else–
Another blow; this time to the back of his left leg. Adam spun around with his Stained Vines, but the monster was already long gone. He could hear the creature’s mocking voice coming from everywhere and nowhere. “Why not use your Lord Talent, Painter? I’m sure you could find where I am if you transformed this tower into your domain.”
“That’s not an option.” Adam tried to make himself sound angry and resolute, suppressing how much agony he was in just from standing up. I...I didn’t know you could feel this kind of pain and still function. If I sit down, I don’t think I’m getting up again. “Turning this tower into my domain will leave Penumbria open to a monster invasion.”
“Ah, so you truly are from the World of Ink? Most curious.”
Adam shook his head to stay focused, then shouted, “Where are you? Show yourself!”
“I am right here, Painter.”
Immediately, Adam whirled around to face the voice, readying his Stained Vines. Despite being sure that the Curse’s voice had come from that direction, he couldn’t see it. He looked for places where it could potentially be hiding, and found none. Although the room was somewhat dark, there were enough torches illuminating everything that a mouse couldn’t have remained hidden, let alone a monster.
Think...where could it be...is there some sort of logic to it? A rule? A restriction?
Wait...maybe there is one.
Adam drew a deep breath. So far, he could only be sure of two things: the Curse didn’t seem to attack him when he was turning around like a maniac, and it was getting stronger every time it drank more ink – blood – from his wounds. If he wanted to keep the creature from attacking him, his only option was to spin like a beyblade no matter how dizzy or tired he felt.
He had to admit that it was tempting to think of things in those simple terms. To imagine that all he had to do was repeat ‘I’ll do it, even if it hurts and I’m exhausted, I’ll keep doing it!’ until the very end.
But that was naive. The human body had limits. Heroic willpower could push you to your limits, but that’s all. Overcoming the inherent frailty of human mortality was a feat best reserved for action movie heroes. If Adam kept trying to survive with raw instinct and determination, he would eventually, inevitably, die.
So instead, he chose to drop to his knees and rest for a moment.
“Show it to me, Painter from the World of Ink.” The voice shouted. Adam could hear it in front of him, but even now he couldn’t see anything. “Show me.” The voice became less human, echoing wildly. “Show me the Talent of a Lord!”
Adam thought of Penumbria and sighed. “Oh, be a good creepy curse and shut up already, will you?” As if he could abandon those people. Not after he’d forced them to live with him as their lord.
That made them his responsibility.
He launched his Stained Vines – but not in the direction of the voice. Instead, he launched it behind him, toward the torches on the wall. As soon as he felt the Vines make contact, Adam made it twist, turn, and wrap itself around, tying up the Curse in one swift motion.
“I suppose it makes sense,” Adam said, projecting his voice towards the monster restrained behind his back. “I was just thinking of you as a curse, but that’s not exactly what you are. You have a Talent too, don’t you? I was confused when trying to figure out what your ability was...it couldn’t be speed or teleportation...but I understand now.”