Derek slumped against the crumbling stone wall, every nerve inside screaming for rest. But he dared not close his eyes, not yet.
The Baron's lair felt alive with malevolent energy, as if the demon's malign essence still lingered.
Gradually Derek's ragged breathing slowed. His pulse, which had raced like a stampeding herd during the battle, began to calm.
Through the haze of exhaustion, he allowed his mind to wander - back to scenes of past peace, of family and friends beyond these dark depths.
It was then that the voice came, slicing through his thoughts like a poisoned blade. At first a slight whisper at the edge of hearing, probing, testing for weakness.
Derek stiffened, instincts flaring as prey senses the stalking predator.
The whisper grew, unfolding into a silk-wrapped hiss that dripped hatred and contempt. "Insolent worm...you thought you best me?"
