LAST RESORT
Part 13
2:01 AM
4 Hours Until Dawn
2 Delvers Remaining…
One more goddamn step, one more step.
Jared took the stairs two at a time, lungs howling, shoes slipping on polished wood, face slicked with sweat. Up ahead, Wendy was moving like a wounded prey, frantic and clumsy. Behind them, Roy’s screams clawed at the wallpaper. Words now blurred into gargling howls. Jared knew that sound. He heard it during his fighting days at the schoolyard. Of Andrew Whittle breaking his leg during fifth-grade soccer practice and how he howled like a fucking toddler for his momma.
But there was something wrong in Roy's screams. Something he couldn’t explain. He couldn't put a finger on it, which bothered him.
They reached the third floor.
“Which way?!” Jared barked, sweat streaking down his jaw.
Wendy spun, face pale and glassy. “Left. No—right!”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” she said, but unsure. “I think so.”
“Fuck!” Jared’s hand braced on the wall. “This place feels like a giant goddamn maze.”
“It’s on the right, Jared. I swear.”
She was trembling. He didn’t trust her memory, but he didn’t have a better idea, and every second they stood here was one more second for Henry to catch up. Maybe the movies were right. Rich people were just fucking creepy and not right in the head. What did Lope say to him again? Money makes it easier to do evil things. This one just happened to be a vampire, dressing them up in tuxedos and gowns like plating his food in jewelry and perfumes.
Then the screaming stopped.
Jared flinched and glanced at the grand staircase. He heard no footsteps running up the stairs. No dark figure looming up the banister. No vampire leering at them. But the silence was worse. Silence meant planning. It meant Henry was probably stalking them now. The last two pieces of the steak on his fancy plate, Jared thought morbidly.
The hair on his arms stood up like static. He remembered the ballroom: Henry rushing across that marble like he had hydraulics strapped in his legs. One second, the bastard was forty feet away. The next, he was breathing down on his neck and bitch-slapped him like he was just another piece of furniture. The motherfucker also struck quite a punch, and he might’ve broken a rib or two. It was getting harder to breathe with every step Jared made.
If he’s that fast and done with Roy, he can get to us. Searᴄh the nôvelFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.
And then up came the question Jared dreaded: Why the fuck did we choose him?
How am I going to explain this all to the police? They ain’t gonna believe a fucking vampire did it!
No time to waste. He grabbed Wendy’s wrist and yanked her forward. She didn’t fight it. Her high heels clacked on the floor as they bolted down the right hallway. He didn’t know why she still had that thing on when it looked like it would break her ankles. He didn’t question it. Wendy might be a good distraction later if things go south.
I’m not dying tonight. Not ever.
Then Wendy pointed. “Oh my God! I remember that painting. The boy with the yellow vest!”
What painting? Jared didn’t look. She was already running harder, and that was enough.
The room came up fast. Wendy lunged, tore away from his grip, and slammed shoulder-first through the wooden door.
“That’s it! That’s it!” she said, beaming and jumping excitedly. “Come on, get inside!”
Jared followed eyes on the hall behind them. Empty. But for how long?
“What the fuck are you waiting for?”
“I don’t see him yet.” Jared closed the door.
“Oh, look! It’s open!” Wendy was already pointing at the window. “I was right!”
Jared didn’t answer. He just crossed the room to the dresser and started pushing. It was heavier than it looked, and he was running on fumes already. Christ, this is gonna be a long night.
“Help me with this!”
Wendy caught on to what he was doing and got on the other side and shoved. Her voice shook. “Do you really think this is gonna stop a vampire?”
Jared didn’t look up. “Nope.”
“Then why—”
“But it’ll slow him down.” He paused. “Maybe.”
Jared wasn’t sure if it would even do that. That was the only hope they had. Delay. A second here, two seconds there. Just enough time to crawl out that window and pray the drop didn’t shatter their legs.
“I think I dropped my weapon outside,” Wendy muttered.
“No way we’re going back out to get it.”
“I wasn’t suggesting it.”
They pushed again, legs quaking. The dresser scraped across the hardwood with a screech. If someone was outside in the hallway, they would have heard all of this ruckus. They were so obvious.
“How’s your neck?” Jared asked.
Wendy flinched. “Never been better,” she lied. “How’s your shoulder?”
“Never been better.”
Another shove. The dresser hit the frame.
“I don’t hear Roy anymore,” she said. “Do you think he’s…”
“Don’t,” Jared said. “Just…don’t.”
“Maybe he got away?”
Jared’s silence told her everything she needed to know.
“The chairs,” she blurted out. “We can stack the chairs.”
She darted to the vanity, grabbed the chair, and shoved it on top of the dresser. Jared followed suit, dragging an ottoman by the little fireplace, teeth clenched through the pain in his arm. Why can’t I be faster? Why can’t I be stronger? This is pathetic.They stacked furniture like kids building a fortress. What else could they do?
“Sheets,” Jared said, breath ragged. “Tie ‘em like this.”
“Okay.” Wendy didn’t ask questions. She ripped the top sheet off the bed and started knotting it to the next. Jared grabbed the other and joined in, tying, pulling, knotting with raw, shaking fingers.
He tied the final end around the bedpost and yanked hard on it. It held.
“I’m going down first.” His voice was final.
“But your arm—”
“I said, I’m going first. Make sure it’s safe?”
Wendy didn’t argue. Outside seemed as dangerous as the monster hunting them inside. Outside was dark, and it didn’t look like there was anywhere to hide. But there are a lot of places to run, Jared thought. Wendy didn’t look like a fast runner. If she was, well, she wasn’t showing it. Hopefully, vampires were like bears. They went for the slowest prey. Even with his wounded arm, Jared might make it out alive and out of this hellhole.
Sorry, Wendy.
Jared moved to the window. The cold night air hit his face like a slap; his muscles screamed as he hoisted himself onto the windowsill, ignoring the throb in his shoulder. It didn’t matter anymore. Pain didn’t mean shit when death had your scent, and the fucker was only a heartbeat behind.
Something rattled behind him: The doorknob.
“Oh my god,” Wendy whispered, then urgently, “He’s outside! Jared, he’s at the fucking door! Hurry!”
“I’m going!” he snapped. “I’m going!”
He hooked his leg out the window and grabbed the first knot in the bedsheet rope. His palms started sweating, and he hated when they started doing that shit. Why now? Why now?! The drop below was a black pit. Maybe he could see some bushes. Perhaps he’d end up having broken bones. He didn’t like to imagine what that pain felt like. I couldn’t see shit. If there’d been moonlight, maybe he could’ve aimed better. It was a three-story drop from the ground, and he wouldn’t risk it by jumping off right now. He could live with a bad arm, but he still needed his legs to run the fuck away.
Wendy stuck her head out the window. “Move your fucking slow ass!”
BANG.
The door shook. Jared felt the vibration even from outside, and he clung to the sheets like a ninja. The dresser scraped with a loud nails-on-chalkboard screech. The chairs rattled. The ottoman crashed to the floor with a hollow, final thud, causing Wendy to yelp from surprise.
Oh fuck. He’s coming in.
“Hurry!”
“Don’t rushme—oh shit!”
Jared’s grip faltered as he descended—his foot slipped on one of the knots, and the sheet yanked hard against his ribs. A flash of white pain tore through his side, and for a second, he dangled--one hand, one arm-- too much body weight and not enough upper body strength. I knew I shouldn’t have quit my gym membership two months ago! Who the fuck charges fifty dollars a month for a membership anyway? In this economy? What a total rip-off!
But somehow—somehow—his foot found a protruding recess above the window on the second floor. He felt like God had given him a chance, and he braced his foot against it, breathed, and adjusted himself to get a better grip on the rope.
I swear to you, God, I am going to church every chance I get if you get me the fuck out of here, he prayed.
He looked down. And almost there.
Before he knew it, his shoes landed on dirt, squelching under his weight, wet and stinking of moss and mildew. Jared collapsed into it. His knees buckled. His lungs stung. But he made it down. He made it outside. He was alive. I’m alive! I know I can make it!
Jared staggered up and looked back up at the window. “Wendy! Come down!” He shouted over. “I made it down! I’m okay!” He said proudly.
Another slam against the door. Wood splintered, cracking it open just a tad. Henry loomed behind it. A pale eye gleamed through the crack in the busted doorframe. His mouth peeled back in a grin, the skin around his lips crusted with blood in the corners. His sharp teeth were wet with blood. Fleshy bits still dangling from there.
“I see you,” he said to Wendy. “I’ve tasted your blood. You can’t hide from me. I’ll know where you’ll go. Why don’t you open the door, my sweet, and we’ll dance at the ballroom. We’ll have a very lovely dance. Just you and me.”
Henry was holding back. He was much stronger than he looked, and I reckoned that his struggle to push over a flimsy barricade was all for show. Bravo to the archetype for making it look freaking convincing. One strong kick with his vampiric strength, and he’d have the door knocked off the hinges and the dresser sliding across the room in a heartbeat. But he didn’t want that. No, he wanted the delvers scared. Helpless. Yet, still filled with a slight tinge of hope that they could escape him. That they had done something to prevent and delay their inevitable deaths. That’s what would make it more tragic when he finally captured and killed them. When his fingers curled around their neck as he drank them dry.
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And all that hard work and dramatics were pretty effective. Wendy screamed bloody murder, and she looked genuinely terrified as if her entire soul was about to leap out and abandon the rest of her body. She frantically tried to get through the window, feet first, then reversing, arms shaking, knees buckling around the bedsheet ropes.
“Jump!” Jared shouted.
“Oh God, oh God, I can’t—I can’t—he’s right there!” Wendy sobbed.
Henry pushed harder on the door. The dresser slid an inch. Then another.
Jared backed up and looked around desperately. No ladder. The garden shed was so far away. He could see a building not far from them. Looked like a greenhouse of some sort. He couldn’t find anything to help Wendy come down easier and much safer.
He clenched his jaw, looked up, and looked away. “Sorry!”
Then, he turned and ran.
“Jared! What the fuck?!” Wendy screamed after him, eyes wild.
“I’m sorry!”
“Wait! Don’t leave me! You motherfucker!”
But he was already a shadow tearing across the yard, eyes darting where he should go.
Up ahead was the greenhouse. To his left were the woods, but the treelike was so far away. There was that garden to the right with a giant hedge maze, but he quickly deduced it was probably a bad idea to be trapped there, lost and never finding the way out.
He made a break for the forest instead. At least there, he could go anywhere. He wouldn’t be trapped in the greenhouse, and he wouldn’t be trapped in the garden maze. Why trade a death trap for another? He thought.
Wendy grabbed the bedsheet ropes, an arm still holding onto the windowsill, afraid she would fall if she let go. Her high heels popped free, spiraling down like snapped bird bones to the ground.
Inside, Henry’s long and pale arm reached in through the widening crack, fingers searching for a grip over the top of the dresser. Then, he pushed harder on the furniture.
“Oh, god!” Wendy screamed again.
The door groaned from the force.
Henry’s head stuck inside, searching, and then a final push.
The door let out a final, tortured SNAP. The frame cracked.
And then the door yawned wide open.
Without missing a beat, Henry stepped inside.
She saw him in full now. The evil grin. Eyes of crimson focused solely on her. The blood at the corners of his mouth smeared like warpaint. And in his hand was a meat cleaver.
Her meat cleaver.
He grabbed it.
The one she’d dropped during the scuffle. The same one she used to defend herself earlier. Now, the monster clutched it in his grip, and he was marching toward her with murderous purpose.
“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t—!”
She told herself to jump.
JUST JUMP GODDAMN IT.
Told herself to let go. Both things were waiting for her anyway. Death inside and death below.
JUST LET GO!
But the ground looked so far down. So distant, she’d break. She’d be dead. Worse, she’d still be alive but paralyzed, and the vampire would eat her anyway while she was still conscious. She shuddered from such a grim image.
Henry took a step forward.
And another.
He raised the cleaver over his head.
NOW, her brain screamed. NOW! NOW! NOW!
And she let go, surprising even herself, but that barely lasted a second when she found herself flailing in the air, screaming at the top of her lungs.
THWACK.
The cleaver hit the windowsill not even half a second after her fingers left it. Wood splintered and barked up into the air.
Wendy hit the ground hard. But not as hard as she should’ve. The bushes and the wet dirt gave under her weight. It knocked the wind out of her, scraped her knees, and cut her palms. She gasped, rolled, scrambled. Ignored the cuts made by the twigs and brambles along her arms and legs. Ignored the cold night air burning her lungs. She just needed to get the fuck out and far away.
And then she ran barefoot. Wild-eyed and breathless. She ran like the devil himself was behind her.
But she made the mistake of looking back.
Henry was perched on the windowsill like a gargoyle, not giving chase but watching them run away from the manor with excitement, prolonging the hunt just a little bit longer. To let the delvers experience the fear building inside their bodies until the final drop.
Jared was still ahead of her, but just barely. He stumbled through the grass, limping, shoulder hunched and arm cradled close. Then he fell face-first into the dirt. Hard.
Wendy cried out, trying to catch up to him.
Behind, Henry shifted on his weight on the windowsill. His neck jerked violently like something popped loose from the back. Then again.
CRACK.
CRACK.
POP.
Bone grinding on bone. Shoulders twitched, convulsed.
And then he transformed.
His ribs snapped outward one by one, sounding like breaking branches. His spine arched violently. Skin stretched and split. Black, glossy wings erupted and tore out from his back with wet, sucking sounds like flesh being peeled from the bone. He ripped off his clothes until he was naked.
Henry’s face lengthened—nose crunching upward, jaw unhinging into a wide yawn, and mouth lengthening into rows of razor-sharp teeth. A long, narrow proboscis-like tongue licked out. His eyes sunk deeper into his skull, glowing red like coals in a dying fire. Fingers stretched into claw-like talons. His skin grayed and darkened, veins protruding out like tree roots. No longer pale. Not even resembling anything human. Not even close.
He hissed and then let out the most piercing shriek that latched onto the night.
Wendy screamed and focused on running. Whatever the fuck she just saw, she didn’t want it near her.
Henry flapped his wings once, twice.
And then he was airborne.
“Oh, shit!” Jared saw it, too, scrambling to his feet.
Henry came down like a bullet, a streak of shadow and claws.
Wendy felt the vampire coming from behind, and without thinking, she dove to the ground just in time for Henry to sweep above her head and continued to fly forward…
And she didn’t have time to warn Jared.
A sudden whomp of displaced air, and then Henry was right there. One second, Jared was scrambling to his feet, fingers clawing at the dirt like a man drowning. The next, he was gone beneath a flurry of wings and shrieking leather and claws.
Jared made a sound—a high, shocked cry like a deer getting its leg caught in a hunter’s trap. Then Henry drove him into the ground hard, pinning him. Henry's talons drove down like meat hooks. They sank into Jared’s shoulders: through muscle, past bone.
Jared screamed—
I don’t want to die! It hurts! It hurts!
—And his Resolve plunged to red.
Henry smiled. “Yes, scream, my dear. Scream.”
The voice that came out was barely Henry. Monstrous and filled with rage and disciplined hatred. I barely recognized him.
Jared tried to twist away, but Henry was too fast, too heavy, and too inhuman to put up a proper fight. I don’t want to die! I DON’T WANT TO DIE! But Henry grabbed a fistful of hair and skull and slammed Jared’s face into the ground once, twice, until the grass turned black with blood and something inside his skull gave.
Jared twitched, then moaned weakly. His legs kicked behind him uselessly, like a dying insect.
And then Henry launched into the air with his prey.
Jared was yanked upward like a rag doll caught in a tornado. Arms flailing. The world spun into wind and pain. Jared’s scream trailed behind them like a comet’s tail.
Wendy stopped running. Turned just in time to see them rise into the sky. The sight of it—a man-shaped thing with black wings and something living and screaming in its grip—burned itself into her brain. But she couldn’t look away, frozen in horrified fascination.
“Jared!” she screamed, useless.
Up they went. Thirty feet. Forty. Maybe higher. Jared’s legs kicked wildly, shoes falling off mid-flight. Blood streamed from his arms down Henry’s claws, leaving a crimson trail behind them.
Then Henry leaned in.
His jaws opened far too wide, unhinged like a snake. Fangs glistening, coated in stringy drool. He bit down.
It wasn’t…elegant. Not by a mile.
It wasn’t the clean, romantic kill of some old Bela Lugosi’s vampire films.
When a vampire eats, it’s fucking messy, I thought.
Henry latched onto Jared’s face (not the neck) and chomped. Arterial spray hit the wind in dark arcs. Skin tore like wet paper. An eye popped free. Teeth shattered outward from the force of Henry’s jaws. The vampire shook his head like a dog with a new chew toy, flinging bits of cheek and jawbone into the night.
Jared’s scream choked out mid-air and became a gurgle. Then, a breathless wheeze. His head lolled, shattered, half-missing. His hands slapped weakly at Henry’s chest. Eyes rolled, still aware, still alive.
But Henry wasn’t done.
He clawed at Jared’s chest and opened him up like a suitcase. Ribs cracked outward. Flesh peeled. The wind rushed into the exposed cavity, turning his last moments into just a flurry of screams.
Blood sprayed down like rain on Wendy’s face. She wiped the blood off with the back of her hand and started running again. The forest was still too far away, but the greenhouse was nearby now. She could make it if she just ran faster.
You can do this. Just don’t look up! She thought.
And then, without a word, Henry let his prey go.
Jared fell.
He didn’t scream. There was no throat left to make any sound. Not even a whimper.
His body hit the earth like a sack of wet meat, crumpling on the stones beside the greenhouse entrance with a sound that didn’t even seem real. Blood splattered all over Wendy from the fall, soaking her dress with crimson and chunks of sinew.
I could barely make out the colors anymore.
Wendy staggered back, gagging, screaming, hot piss running down her legs as she turned and ran away from the greenhouse door, mind blank with panic. She didn’t think. Couldn’t. There was no room for thoughts. Only the image of Jared’s body jerking, twitching, and emptying of blood. The crunch of his ribs gave way. That horrible slurping sound he made as he was dying.
Behind her, Jared made one last sound, like he was trying to speak around a throat that wasn’t there anymore.
And then… nothing.
Eyes rolled back.
Dead.
[ You have gained 2 essences: Jared McArdle ]
[ You have gained 300 crystals ]
Two? Neat, I thought. Thank you for your essence, dude.
But Wendy’s screams pulled me back out of the prompt.
Oh, right. Someone’s about to get murdered.
Above, Henry hovered silently. Watching. Wings stretched wide, some sick parody of an angel blotting out the sky. That goddamn smile was still on his mangled, blood-caked face.
And then he folded and tucked his wings, leaned forward, and dropped like a stone.
Henry landed in front of her, dirt and leaves kicking everywhere from the impact, though the way he landed barely vibrated into the earth. A rapid, near bullet-speed flight to the softest landing. Wendy skidded to a stop, ending up with her feet tangling beneath her, and she rolled across the grass hard. Her palms scraped raw, her gown bunched up around her thighs as her breath was knocked clean out of her lungs. She scrambled backward from the creature now towering ahead. Henry loomed, chest barely heaving, fangs still wet from the last feed. His silhouette blocked out the lights from the manor, which scattered it into a dim haze in the surrounding area, painting the vampire’s dark silhouette and pointy, bat-like ears with terrifying prominence.
Wendy’s heart pounded so hard it made her ribs ache. She felt the wetness on her thighs and didn’t know if it was blood or piss or sweat, or all three. Her mouth hung open, but nothing came out. Just a dry click in the back of her throat. She was the trapped rabbit watching the hawk circling its prey. Too tired to run. Too scared to fight. Too broken to do anything but wait.
Is this it? Is this how I go? She thought.
Disneyland seemed so far away now. She’d been planning the trip for weeks. Matching shirts. Mouse ears. The stupid churros. And now she was going to die in the dirt, alone, barefoot, soaked in someone else’s blood. What would her mom think? Would she think she ran off again? Would she even look for her?
Her lips moved, and her voice cracked. “Please… don’t do this. Please. I have a family. My mom—she needs me.”
But even she didn’t believe begging would do her any good.
The monster has made up its mind. I am food.
Henry’s head tilted, curious. That surprised her. His voice came out thick and sludgy like he had to drag the words through tar. “They always beg,” he said. “They always do.”
Henry’s lip twitched. “You won’t?”
“I won’t! I swear it. Cross my heart, hope to die.” She gave a slight laugh. “Ironic, huh? Just please. Don’t hurt me.”
She didn’t know what he wanted. Maybe he didn’t know what he wanted. But he hadn’t killed her. Yet. She clung to that.
Henry stepped closer. His shadow swallowed her.
“Say, why would I let you live? Hm?” he said. “You are food.”
Wendy winced from his harsh voice and glanced toward the greenhouse, where Jared's body was still steaming in the cold night air. Pieces of him were spread across the lawn like butcher scraps. “Maybe you’re full?”
That earned a deep chuckle from Henry. Have you ever seen a monstrous eight-foot-tall giant man-bat laugh? It sounded like a hyena with a severe case of sore throat.
“My bloodlust is never satiated, my dear,” he said. “Such is the curse of those who walk the night. Such is the curse of my brothers and sisters.”
Wendy swallowed the bile rising in her throat. Her brain raced. She needed to move, to talk, to bargain. Keep the spotlight on her. Keep him interested. Keep him…distracted.
“Maybe I can help. Feed, I mean. Maybe I can bring others here. People. Is that what you want?”
Henry made a sound that might’ve been approval. Maybe boredom.
“I can be your familiar,” she stammered. “Vampires have those, right? I saw the movies. I read a lot of books about you. Um, your people?”
“You saw for yourself that garlic has no effect on me. You think the movies and books got the rest, right?”
“But you do have familiars. Humans that serve you. I can be that human.”
Henry tilted his head, thinking.
“I can be that guy,” she said. “I can do that. I’ll be good at it. I know people.”
He nodded. “But I’m afraid that position has already been filled.”
Soft footsteps behind her.
Wendy turned—
—to Roy.
He's...what? Alive? No, Wendy wasn't dreaming or imagining it. Roy was alive. Standing tall. Pale, but not hurt. Not dead. Not like Jared. Not like poor Jared. Roy bowed to Henry like a loyal hound, ready to kiss the master’s feet if need be. Something dark smeared the side of his face, and his eyes were flat, glassy, dead behind the smile. He turned to her and frowned. Was that…regret? Sympathy? For her?
“Please… please…”
It was all she could manage.
Roy could barely look at her.
Henry stepped a little bit closer, watching her the way a cat might a wounded bird it had caught in the backyard.
“The manor can be a lonely place,” he said softly, his tone almost gentle but still scratchy and whispery. “Instead of being my familiar… do you accept companionship?”
She blinked. “C—Companionship?”
Wendy felt a chill crawl over her. “You’re offering me… Are you saying…”
“As my spawn, yes. Eternal life. Youth that never fades. Strength that never falters. Possibilities that are never-ending. You can walk it forever. That is what I offer. Or…” He paused. Smiled with those blood-wet fangs. “Or I can end it here. Right now. But I can’t promise it will be painless.”
The moon lit his face. The wind rustled the grass. Somewhere far away, an owl hooted. Silence enveloped them.
“You’ll turn me?” Wendy whispered.
Henry leaned in. The scent hit her—sour rot and centuries of decay. His lips curled. “And so much more, my sweet,” he said. “So much… more.”
She didn’t answer right away. Her eyes flicked to the greenhouse, where what was left of Jared still twitched in her mind’s eye. Where grass drank his blood. Where his scream still echoed in the marrow of her bones.
She looked back at Henry. This…thing…in front of her, this apex predator wrapped in human flesh. His eyes shimmered black. Gone was the crimson glint, left only with a bottomless pit. Pits that went forever down, where looking into them felt like you were drowning.
And then… she thought of her mother. Her friends. Kate.
She thought of the fridge back home and how recently she just bought it from her bonus paycheck from Remley's just for the ice cream maker inside it alone, along with the cute magnets and the takeout menus. Of half-watched sitcoms she had accumulated on her Continue to Watch on Netflix. Of the silly voice texts Kate always left on her cellphone, just saying: “Have you seen the new season of Love is Blind, mooncake? Ah! It’s crazy! Miss you like a panda! Let’s do another slumber watch party!”
She thought of her polka-dot suitcase. The one she packed for Disneyland. With the Minnie Mouse socks and the sunscreen, she wouldn’t need anymore.
She thought of life. Of sunlight. Would she ever feel that on her face? An existence without morning? Of things with color. Of warmth and laughter and noise. Of people.
And how all of it had been replaced by this silence. This horror. This monstrosity looming over her.
She could almost hear her mother saying, “No, baby. No. Please don’t.”
But her mother wasn’t here.
Only the monster.
Only the truth: Kill or be killed.
And she couldn’t fight now. That strength had long ebbed away from her bones. All that was left was the bitter reality that she was dead meat.
And the monster was offering her a way out. Not a clean one. But a way out all the same.
Wendy swallowed.
And—very slowly—nodded.
[ You have gained 2 essences: Wendy Morrison ]
[ You have gained 300 crystals ]