Jean walked beside Ashlyn, boots crunching softly on broken asphalt. On her other side, Skevin—quiet, tense, eyes sweeping every shadow..
Jean hugged her jacket tighter as the cold air skimmed across her skin. The ruins around them loomed tall and broken—tilted buildings, shattered windows, dangling metal frames twisting with every gust of wind. Gray dust drifted down like dead snow.
The sky was darker than usual.
Even the air felt heavier.
Ashlyn glanced at Jean, then at Skevin. She wanted to speak—Jean could see it in her eyes—but she didn't know how to start a conversation with a former cannibal gang member who might or might not still be dangerous.
Jean inhaled, preparing to break the silence.
Before she could speak—
Skevin suddenly stopped.
Not a slow stop.
A jerk.
He threw his arm out instinctively, blocking both girls from walking another step.
Jean blinked, startled. "Skevin? What—"
He didn't answer.
His entire posture had changed.
His shoulders lowered.
His muscles tightened.
His pupils thinned into narrow slits like a reptile's, reflecting the faint light of the dying sky.
"Hide," he whispered, so low Jean barely heard it.
Jean felt her stomach drop. Something cold slid down her spine. Ashlyn grabbed her sleeve, eyes widening.
Without argument, Skevin nudged them toward the nearest collapsed storefront—a half-collapsed clothing shop with shattered mannequins lying like broken bodies across the ground. They ducked behind a chunk of fallen concrete, knees hitting dust.
Skevin crouched low beside them.
Jean opened her mouth again, whispering, "What is it? Did you hear—"
Skevin raised one finger to his lips.
His pupils contracted further—thin, reptilian slits.
His breathing stopped entirely.
Jean and Ashlyn didn't dare make a sound.
Then, slowly…
Skevin leaned just enough to peer over the broken slab of concrete.
Jean followed his gaze—
And her blood went cold.
A massive shadow lumbered into view from between two half-collapsed buildings. Its steps shook loose dust from shattered windows, each footfall making the ground shiver beneath them.
Ashlyn clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
The creature stood nearly as tall as a school bus, towering over the ruined street like a nightmare given flesh. Gray skin stretched tight across bulging muscles, riddled with cracks that oozed faint black smoke. Its head—round, misshapen—held one enormous eye in the center, glowing faintly yellow like a dying lantern.
A cyclops.
Or something even worse.
But its hands—
Jean's breath hitched.
Its hands weren't hands.
They were clusters of human heads.
Not fresh.
Not whole.
Dried, shrunken, twisted in eternal silent screams, fused together like grotesque fruits. The creature lifted one hand and shook it absentmindedly—the heads clacked together with a hollow sound.
Even Skevin, who had seen horrors since the world fell, went rigid.
"What… the hell… is that…" Ashlyn whispered, voice trembling.
Skevin shook his head slowly, eyes wide with a fear Jean had never seen in him.
"I don't know," he whispered back. "I've never seen anything like it."
Jean felt her stomach twist, bile climbing her throat.
Is the world trying to erase humanity?
Why keep us alive if only to suffer?
The creature stomped forward, dragging half-crushed bodies beneath its feet—refugees, maybe from another shelter. Their forms were twisted, not dead but unmoving, faint groans escaping broken lungs.
Alive.
Suffering.
Jean covered her mouth, tears burning her eyes.
Ashlyn's hands were shaking violently. "W-we need to get out… Jean, we—"
A small, thin wail cut through the air.
Jean froze.
Ashlyn froze.
Even Skevin twitched.
A baby's cry.
Weak.
Desperate.
Coming from the alley to their right.
Ashlyn's eyes widened. "A baby—"
Skevin grabbed her wrist instantly. "No. Stay. That thing is—"
But Ashlyn shook her head, already leaning forward. "We can't leave a baby—"
Jean's heart raced. Logic screamed stay hidden—but that sound…
It was soft. So soft.
But real.
"Skevin," Jean whispered, voice cracking with fear and instinct. "Someone might still be alive."
"No," he hissed, eyes narrowing. "It's a trap. Something's wrong with—"
But Jean was already moving.
Ashlyn followed right behind her.
"Damn it—" Skevin cursed under his breath and crawled quickly after them, keeping low.
They slipped through the broken shop doorway, then ducked into the littered alley—stepping over cracked tiles, scattered bones, and half-rotted fabrics.
The cry grew louder.
Jean's heartbeat quickened.
"We're close," she whispered.
The alley opened into a small courtyard, surrounded by leaning walls and dead vines. Rubble covered most of the ground. Jean spotted something lying near the far corner—small, white, and round.
Her chest tightened.
A cradle?
Ashlyn took a step forward—
Skevin grabbed her shoulder harshly and pulled her back just as—
BOOM.
The wall behind the object exploded inward as the giant creature stepped into the courtyard, blocking what little light existed.
Jean stumbled backward, nearly falling over broken stone.
The massive cyclops hunched lower, its single eye glowing brighter as it stared directly at them. Its breath rattled—hot, wet, foul.
Its left hand lifted.
In its palm, Jean saw—
Not a baby.
But a cluster of tiny skulls, fused together at the base like a grotesque bouquet.
The skulls opened their mouths.
And the wailing sound that had mimicked a baby's cry spilled out, an echo of stolen voices stitched together by something cruel and ancient.
Jean screamed.
Ashlyn's knees buckled.
Skevin stood rigid, trembling—not from fear of death, but from the horrifying realization that he'd been right.
It wasn't a baby.
It was bait.
And the monster had lured them perfectly.
For a heartbeat, nobody moved.
The giant cyclops hulked at the edge of the ruined courtyard, its hunched shoulders scraping the leaning walls. Its single glowing eye tracked only them—three small humans in a place where humans had no right to survive. The cluster of tiny fused skulls in its hand still let out that awful, echoing baby-cry, like mockery given sound.
Ashlyn's fingers dug into Jean's sleeve.
Skevin swallowed once, hard.
Then he moved.
"Run." His voice was low, sharp, and more animal than human. "Now. I'll hold it."
Jean stared at him. "What—No, Skevin, you can't—"
"GO!" he snapped, eyes snapping to her, pupils thin as slits. "I'm not asking."
The monster shifted, forcing its bulk fully into the courtyard. Broken stones cracked under its weight. The ropes of muscle in its legs flexed. Its huge eye narrowed.
Ashlyn choked out, "Skevin—"
He pulled both girls back behind him in one rough motion and stepped forward alone, placing himself between them and the beast.
"I'll give you time," he said, without turning around. "That's all I can do."
Jean's chest ached.
"Skevin—"
He flicked his hand behind him in a small wave. "You want to live, you run. I'm faster than I look."
The creature lifted one grotesque hand—its "fingers" nothing more than strings of shrunken heads fused together. They clicked softly as they shifted, jaws hanging open in eternal silent screams.
Then—
It swung.
The hand smashed into one of the courtyard walls, stone exploding in a shower of dust and debris. The shockwave slammed into them like a physical blow; Jean stumbled, ears ringing.
Skevin's voice cut through the chaos.
"JEAN. ASHLYN. RUN!"
This time, they obeyed.
They turned and sprinted, boots scraping over fractured stone. They fled through a narrow gap between two collapsed buildings, the alley barely wide enough to squeeze through.
Behind them, the monster roared.
The sound felt wrong—not just loud, but heavy, like it was trying to crawl into their skulls and live there. Ashlyn's hands flew to her ears even as she ran.
Jean grabbed her arm and hauled her forward.
"Come on!"
They burst out onto what used to be a street—a wide, broken stretch of asphalt lined with husks of old shops and houses. Cars sat rusted and half-crushed, their windows shattered, their skeletal frames twisted.
Ashlyn gasped, looking back only once.
"Skevin—"
Jean didn't let her stop. "He told us to move. We move."
A deafening crash shook the ground. Dust billowed up behind them as something massive slammed down—probably a hand, a foot, or an entire wall.
Skevin had engaged.
The monster's arm came down like a falling tower. Skevin threw himself forward, landing in a roll, the impact jarring his bones. The heads that made up the creature's "hand" slammed into the ground behind him, leaving a crater and sending cracked stone flying.
He hissed under his breath.
"You ugly pile of nightmares…"
The cyclops turned its gaze fully on him now.
Good.
Better him than the girls.
It raised its other arm—this one ending in a thicker cluster of heads, jaws wider, teeth longer. Skevin's skin prickled as he watched the fused mouths tremble.
He didn't wait to see what it could do.
He sprinted.
Skevin moved like something bred for survival. His feet barely made sound, claws digging into stone for better grip. Scales shimmered faintly along his jaw and neck, spreading partially down his arms, forming a half-armor that caught the dim light.
He veered to the left, making himself a fast, irritating target.
The monster swung again.
This time Skevin didn't evade entirely.
He jumped—straight toward the incoming blow.
The heads-studded hand smashed into the ground, but Skevin landed on its upper side, claws scraping for purchase. The skin—if it could be called that—was rough, with patches of hardened gray and pulsing black veins.
He drove his claws in.
They pierced.
The beast bellowed, lurching backwards, arm jerking up into the air. Skevin clung tightly as he was suddenly lifted high, vision spinning as the courtyard shrank below him.
He climbed.
Hand over hand, claws digging into odd ridges and seams where heads had fused together. He moved along the arm toward the shoulder, towards the neck, towards any place that looked remotely vulnerable.
The cyclops shook its arm violently, trying to dislodge him. Skevin's claws tore deeper, chunks of gray tissue ripping free and falling to the ground in clumps.
He hissed through his teeth, eyes flooding with reptilian shine.
"Come on… fall—"
The monster slammed its shoulder into a nearby building.
The impact rocked through Skevin's bones.
Pain flashed white in his mind as bricks shattered around him. He lost his grip for a second—just enough.
He fell.
The world flipped—sky, wall, ground—until he hit the broken street hard, rolling in a cloud of dust. Pebbles dug into his arms. Something in his side cracked angrily.
He spat blood.
"Still… alive…" he muttered.
The cyclops took a thunderous step toward him, cracking the street further.
Its single eye burned brighter now—focused, hateful.
It reached down.
Skevin scrambled up and dashed to the side just before a huge hand slammed where he'd lain. Heads crushed against the pavement, teeth grinding stone. He jumped onto a toppled concrete beam and used the angle to launch himself upward again.
This time he aimed higher, for its chest.
He landed on its torso, claws sinking between the grooves of its muscles. The creature roared, slapping at its own body in an attempt to swat him like an insect.
He darted up, avoiding the smashing blows.
Each hit shook his balance but didn't dislodge him.
He reached its neck.
Scales had spread further across his jawline now, trailing down his throat. His teeth had sharpened. Every part of him screamed to bite, to rip, to tear.
But he forced himself to focus.
Weak point.
Where—
The center of the throat pulsed with a thicker cluster of veins. Above, the giant eye rolled, trying to track his small form clinging to its own flesh.
"There," Skevin breathed.
He raised one clawed hand and slashed.
His claws cut a deep line across the pulsing area. Thick, tar-like fluid oozed out. The creature roared again, louder, stumbling back into the courtyard wall. The force of the collision nearly shook Skevin loose.
He stabbed again, deeper this time.
The beast convulsed.
Its free hand crashed into its own chest, trying to knock him off. Skevin jumped aside, barely avoiding being crushed as the monster's fist slammed into its own ribs.
The impact drove more of that dark fluid out of the wound. It splattered across the broken wall and hissed.
Skevin's lungs burned from exertion. His side twitched where something felt broken. His grip started to weaken.
The cyclops slammed backward into another building.
This time he couldn't hold on.
The impact jarred him loose and sent him flying through the air. He crashed through what remained of a window and tumbled inside a half-collapsed room, rolling across a filthy floor coated in dust and old papers.
He groaned and forced himself onto his elbows.
His scales flickered, losing some of their shine. His breathing came in harsh pants.
He was strong. Enhanced.
But the monster was stronger.
Out on the street, Jean and Ashlyn ducked behind an overturned bus, peering back toward the way they came. The monster's roar still echoed between the buildings.
Ashlyn's hands shook.
"He's going to die," she whispered.
Jean's gut twisted. "Not if we help."
Ashlyn stared at her. "With what? You saw that thing. I can burn normal monsters, not—" She gestured helplessly in the air. "—that."
Jean looked up at the buildings.
Most roofs were half-collapsed, but some still had structure. Old beams. Loose stone. Heavy chunks that might fall if pushed.
Or pulled.
Or blown.
Her mind raced.
"If we can't fight it," she murmured, "we crush it."
Ashlyn stared. "Crush… with what?"
Jean pointed.
Across the street, a three-story building leaned like a drunk giant, its top partially cracked but not fully fallen. Large slabs of stone clung stubbornly to bent support beams.
"If that falls," Jean said, "it falls on something."
"You want to bring the whole building down?" Ashlyn asked, voice shrill.
"Do you have a better idea?"
Ashlyn opened her mouth.
Closed it.
She exhaled shakily. "No."
Jean nodded, decision locking into place.
"You stay low. Keep an eye out. I'm going up."
Ashlyn grabbed her wrist. "Jean, it's too dangerous!"
"So is staying down here!" Jean shot back. "If that thing comes this way, you'll have a better chance dodging than I will up there. Besides, I'm lighter. I can climb faster."
Ashlyn gritted her teeth.
She hated that Jean had a point.
"…Fine," she whispered. "But I'm not just waiting."
Jean squeezed her arm once. "Good. I'm counting on you."
Then she sprinted toward the leaning building.
She ducked into the cracked entrance, boots echoing faintly on the dusty tile. The inside smelled like mold and old metal. Broken chairs, rusted shelves, and shattered glass littered the floor.
She found a stairwell—its railing twisted, steps broken in places, but still climbable.
She didn't hesitate.
She climbed.
Two steps at a time, then three, ignoring the burn in her legs and the ache of hunger in her stomach. On the second floor, part of the wall had caved, revealing the street below. She could see the monster's shadow moving across the courtyard beyond, huge and distorted.
"Skevin…" she whispered.
She pushed on.
By the time she reached the third floor, her lungs burned. She stumbled onto the warped hallway and forced herself toward the side that leaned over the street.
The floor tilted under her feet.
She stepped carefully, every footfall tested first. Cracks webbed across the walls. The ceiling sagged. Dust fell with every tremor from outside.
"Almost… there…"
She reached a broken window frame.
Carefully, she climbed through the remnants, stepping onto the slanted rooftop.
Wind hit her face. Cold. Dry. Carrying the faint echo of distant screams and closer roars.
The rooftop was a mess—chunks of concrete, twisted metal beams, broken bricks, and shards of glass glinting dully. A large slab of rooftop, half-detached, lay tilted along the edge, heavy enough to kill if it fell from this height on something below.
Jean's gaze sharpened.
"There."
She crouched by it, running her hands along its cracked surface. It was big—bigger than her—too heavy for her to move alone.
She glanced over the ledge.
From here, she could see almost everything.
The courtyard below.
The monster's hulking shape.
The path Ashlyn had taken to find cover.
The building Skevin had crashed into.
No sign of Skevin.
Her chest tightened.
"Hold on," she whispered. "Please."
Ashlyn pressed her back to the overturned bus, fingers trembling as she peeked around the rusted metal edge.
She saw the cyclops.
It had turned away from the alley now, its huge body shifting toward the building Skevin had crashed into. It lifted one foot and slammed it into the side of the structure, cracking the walls further.
Ashlyn's hands balled into fists.
She could feel it.
The fire.
It pulsed faintly inside her, a warmth that had nothing to do with the cold air. It was always there—waiting, coiled like a serpent ready to strike.
She hated it.
Feared it.
Relied on it.
If she did nothing, Skevin would die.
If she tried and failed, they all might.
She drew a breath.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay. Just… don't burn everything."
She stepped out from behind the bus.
The monster's eye snapped toward her instantly, glowing brighter. Its cluster of baby-skull-lure twitched, their mouths stretching open.
Ashlyn's stomach twisted at the sight—but she pushed it down.
She lifted her right hand.
Heat rushed into her palm. Her heart sped up; her breath shortened. Orange light flickered between her fingers, growing brighter, hotter.
The cyclops began to move toward her—slow, deliberate strides that sank into the fractured road.
Ashlyn yelled—
Part fear, part rage, part defiance.
Flames burst from her hand in a concentrated beam, roaring to life like a compressed dragon's breath. The fire shot straight at the monster's chest.
It didn't expect the impact.
The flames burst from Ashlyn's palm in a wild, shaking stream—hot orange and white, cutting through the gray air like a desperate flare.
They hit the giant cyclops square in the chest.
For one heartbeat, it seemed to work.
Fire crashed against its skin, spreading across the surface like spilled paint. Heat rippled in the air. Ashlyn's hair whipped backward from the force. Her lungs burned as she pushed more power out than she ever had before.
But then—
The flames didn't burn.
They sank.
The fire wrapped around its torso, licking up its neck, but the gray flesh beneath didn't blister. Didn't split. Didn't crack.
It drank it.
The creature's skin absorbed the fire like dry soil taking in rain. The flames sank into its body, disappearing beneath its surface. The glow vanished from its exterior and moved inward, swallowed whole.
The cyclops's single eye brightened.
Not with pain.
With power.
Ashlyn's blood turned cold.
"N-no…" she whispered.
Her arm trembled, the flame stream faltering. She tried to cut it off, to pull it back, but her ability was not a sharp, controlled thing—it was a flood. Once it escaped, dragging it back felt like trying to push back a river with bare hands.
The monster took a step forward.
The fire grew weaker outside as it grew stronger inside the beast. Faint orange veins lit up under its gray skin, pulsing slowly from its chest outward like a heartbeat.
It was eating her fire.
Ashlyn cut the last of the stream, her hand falling to her side, smoking. Her palm throbbed, skin flushed red from overuse.
The monster lifted its head, single eye fixed on her.
It did not stagger.
It did not roar in agony.
It simply breathed.
A deep, wet sound.
"Well that… that's not good…" Ashlyn whispered, voice shaking.
Above, Jean saw everything.
She had climbed onto the slanted rooftop, hands searching frantically along the cracked surface of the heavy slab that jutted toward the street. Her plan had been simple—get the monster close, then collapse a piece of the building on top of it.
For a moment, when she saw the fire, she'd thought: Good. Distract it. Hurt it. Give me a clear shot.
But now the fire was gone, the monster was glowing from the inside, and Ashlyn stood alone in the open street.
Jean's heart hammered against her ribs.
"Ashlyn… move… MOVE…" she whispered, voice swallowed by the distance.
Ashlyn backed away, boots crunching over broken asphalt.
Her mind spun.
She wasn't strong like Jean, who could keep her head straight even when terrified.
She wasn't sharp like Mina, who always knew how to talk, how to comfort, how to steady everyone.
She was just…
A girl who read too many books.
The girl who knew formulas and histories and myths.
The girl who used to tutor her classmates.
The girl who shook when she held a weapon.
Her fire was supposed to be the one special thing about her.
But what use was it if it couldn't even burn the monsters?
The cyclops took another step forward.
Closer now.
Up on the roof, Jean found a rusted metal bar wedged between two slabs of broken concrete. She wrapped both hands around it and pulled.
It didn't move.
"Come on…" she hissed, bracing her foot against the slab. "Come on, you stupid—move."
Her muscles screamed. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Dust slipped free and scattered down the slope of the roof, but the main slab held.
Below, the giant stopped.
It was right in front of Ashlyn now.
Its single eye looked down at her almost… thoughtfully.
The tiny skull cluster in its one hand twitched, jawbones clacking together. The baby-cry sound returned—low, distorted, mocking.
Tears pricked Ashlyn's eyes.
Her hand lifted again out of instinct, shaking, a few sparks bouncing between her fingers. Nothing solid. She was drained. Emptied.
"I-I…" she stammered. "I can still—"
She couldn't.
Her flames flickered and died, nothing more than a faint glow under her skin.
The monster's arm rose.
The cluster of heads on that hand twisted, mouths yawning open as if ready to bite.
"Ashlyn!" Jean screamed from above. "MOVE!"
Ashlyn wanted to.
Her legs wouldn't.
Fear wrapped around her muscles like chains. Her skin felt numb, her chest tight.
I'm not built for this, she thought, somewhere between panic and despair. I'm not Jean. I'm not Skevin. I'm just… me.
The cyclops swung its arm.
Instinct kicked in.
Ashlyn dropped, rolling hard across the broken road. The fused heads smashed into the ground where she'd stood, cracking the surface and sending rocks flying.
A jagged chunk hit her shoulder. Pain shot down her arm.
She cried out, scrambling back to her feet.
The monster turned toward her again.
Up above, Jean finally managed to shift the slab a few inches.
Her muscles shook violently.
"Just… a little… more…" she groaned.
If she could drag it to the very edge, maybe gravity would take care of the rest.
Another crash sounded from below.
She risked a glance over the rooftop edge.
Ashlyn darted between rusted car frames, breathing hard, stumbling whenever her foot hit uneven ground. The giant followed with horrible patience, its steps slow but long. It could afford to take its time.
Jean's hands tightened on the metal bar.
"Ashlyn, get closer…" she whispered. "Lead it this way. Just a bit more…"
Ashlyn didn't hear her.
But by some desperate instinct, she turned and ran toward the leaning building.
The cyclops followed, drawn by movement and heat.
Pieces of half-fallen structures crumbled as its shoulder brushed them. Loose stone and glass rained down around it.
Jean pulled again.
The slab scraped against the rooftop.
One of its edges hung over the street now, but not enough. Not fully.
"If you fall," she muttered, "fall on that ugly thing…"
Ashlyn's breath rasped in her throat.
Her legs felt like they were made of soaked cloth, heavy and clumsy. She tried to zigzag, to keep from being an easy target, but the street was a maze of debris.
Her boot caught on a half-buried steel rod.
She fell.
Pain shot through her knees and wrists as she hit the ground. She tried to push herself up—
Her arms trembled.
Failed.
The monster stopped a few steps away.
Its shadow swallowed her.
Slowly, almost lazily, it leaned down and reached for her with its grotesque hand.
Ashlyn froze.
This is it, she thought.
This is how it ends.
Then something flashed past her.
Skevin.
He flew from the side like a launched blade, clothes torn, scales spread across half his face and neck, one arm bleeding heavily. He slammed into the creature's wrist, claws digging into its gray flesh.
"MOVE!" he roared.
Ashlyn rolled away on reflex.
The monster jerked its arm upward, lifting Skevin with it. He clung on, snarling, slashing at tendons and veins. Black ichor sprayed, splattering across his face and chest.
The cyclops shook its arm violently.
Skevin held for a few seconds—
Then its other hand came down and swatted him like a fly.
He crashed through the side of a parked bus, metal shrieking. The bus caved in around him.
"NO!" Ashlyn screamed.
Her voice cracked.
Up above, Jean pulled one last time.
The slab shifted further.
The rooftop beneath her feet groaned, the entire structure protesting the weight redistribution. A long crack split down the center of the roof.
But the slab moved.
It hung half over the edge now, trembling between balance and collapse.
She just needed one good shove.
The cyclops turned.
Its eye locked onto the rooftop.
It stepped closer.
Right beneath her.
Jean backed up a few paces, then ran forward, slamming her shoulder and both hands into the slab. Pain flared through her muscles, but she kept pushing.
For a second, it resisted.
Then weight and gravity did the rest.
The slab lurched forward—slow at first, then faster as it tilted clear of the main roof. It tore free from whatever metal still held it and tilted outward.
Jean stumbled backward, falling to one knee.
The slab plummeted.
Straight toward the monster's head.
Something like hope flashed in her chest.
Yes—
The cyclops lifted its head.
Its eye flared.
It reached up with both arms.
For a creature that large, it moved disturbingly fast. It caught the falling slab, hands slamming into the concrete with a collision that made the entire building shudder.
Dust exploded into the air.
Jean's eyes widened in disbelief.
"It caught it…?"
The monster held the weight above its head.
Fingers—long braids of fused skulls—dug into the slab, cracking the surface. A deep growl rattled its chest, more annoyed than hurt.
Then—
It absorbed it.
Not like the fire. Not completely.
But the cracks in its body—places Skevin and Ashlyn had damaged—seemed to tighten and seal as it braced the weight. Its hunched spine straightened. Thickness returned to its shoulders.
It pushed the slab aside.
It crashed to the street off target, smashing into an old car and flattening it into twisted metal and dust.
Jean stared, kneeling on the roof, breath gone.
Nothing they did mattered.
Not the fire.
Not claws.
Not falling stone.
The monster turned its full gaze on her.
It stepped closer to the building, placing one hand against the wall as support. The structure groaned, another section collapsing inward.
Jean scrambled backward on the slanting roof.
"It… it sees me…" she whispered.
The giant reached up.
Its arm extended, fingers stretching higher, scraping the edge of the roof.
Jean turned and tried to run, but the surface tilted too steeply. Her foot slipped. She fell, sliding down toward the edge with a choked cry.
Hands—horrible, fused ones—caught her.
A thick cluster of shrunken heads clamped around her neck, not quite choking her, but holding her in a disgusting collar of bone and dead skin. Their empty eye sockets stared into her face.
She kicked, clawed, grabbed at the heads with both hands, trying to pry them off. The grip tightened.
"JEAN!" Ashlyn screamed from below, voice breaking.
The monster lifted Jean easily off the roof.
Her feet left the surface. The rest of the roof crumbled behind her, chunks falling into the street. Jean dangled above the ground, throat pressed in the cold grip of the fused skulls.
She could hear Skevin groaning weakly somewhere in the wreck of the bus. He was still alive. But he wasn't getting up.
The cyclops brought her closer to its face.
Its single eye examined her like someone inspecting an insect.
Jean choked, kicking helplessly against the empty air.
Ashlyn ran forward.
"Let her go!" she screamed, tears streaming down her dusty cheeks.
Her legs shook. Her lungs burned. Her palm flared weakly with small, shaky sparks.
"What are you doing?!" Skevin rasped from inside the crushed bus. "Ashlyn, get back—!"
She didn't.
She couldn't.
She watched as the creature's other hand rose.
The fused-head fingers spread.
They reached for Jean's head.
The intention was clear.
It wasn't just going to crush her.
It was going to take her head. Add it to the others.
Add her to the chorus of fake cries and stolen voices.
"No…" Ashlyn whispered. "No, no, no…"
She tried to summon fire.
It sputtered weakly in her palm, barely glowing.
Her power felt like a fading ember.
I'm useless, she thought, despair biting down. I can't fight. I can't save anyone. I'm just… weak.
The monster's fingers wrapped around Jean's skull.
Jean squeezed her eyes shut.
"Ash…" she gasped, trying to speak past the grip on her neck. "Run…"
Time stretched.
The sound of wind faded. The crackle of broken stone quieted. Even the monster's wet breathing seemed to grow distant.
Something… shifted.
The world around Ashlyn slowed.
The monster's moving hand crawled inch by inch, as if dragging through thick oil. Dust motes hung suspended in the air, frozen in place. A falling rock stopped mid-drop beside her.
Color dulled.
Only one thing remained sharp—
A voice.
Smooth. Calm. Male.
It slid into her mind like cold fingertips on the back of her neck.
Would you like to deal with me?
Ashlyn froze, breath catching.
The world around her was motionless—Jean caught in the monster's grip, Skevin half-buried, the cyclops' fingers about to close.
Only Ashlyn could move.
Only she heard it.
Her heart hammered—not from fear of the monster now, but from this new, deeper wrongness.
She turned in place, looking wildly around, but saw no one.
Only dark streets. Frozen dust.
Then, from the corner of her eye, she saw it—
A shadow.
Tall, slim, leaning casually against a broken lamppost that hadn't been standing a moment ago.
His face was obscured, as if the air itself refused to show it clearly. Only the faint outline of a smiling mouth could be seen…and the glint of eyes that weren't any one color.
He adjusted the cuff of his coat as if they were in some quiet café, not at the edge of hell.
"I could help you," the voice continued, speaking directly in her mind while the lips of the shadow barely moved. "Make you stronger. Make this—" he gestured lazily at the stuttering flame in her palm, "—into something more than a flicker."
Ashlyn's throat felt dry.
"And in return…?" she whispered.
He smiled wider.
"As with all things that matter," he said, voice soft as a caress, "we would simply make a deal."
His head inclined toward the frozen image of Jean, held inches from death.
"Tell me, Ashlyn… do you want to save her?"
The world around her remained paused, everything hanging on her answer.