The creature's guttural screech tore through the chamber, talons carving deep gouges into the stone floor as it lunged toward Shirley. Yet Shirley was already moving.
Ezra froze, his chest tight, as Shirley sidestepped with a precision that defied belief. His dagger glinted in the flickering firelight as he weaved between strikes, every movement fluid, every pivot sharp. It was as if Shirley wasn't just reacting—he was anticipating, one step ahead of the monster's every lunge.
The creature's massive beak snapped shut, missing Shirley by inches. He dropped low, one hand grazing the frost-crusted floor as he spun sharply to avoid the crushing talons.
Ezra felt the faint vibrations of each impact ripple through the stone, the force sharp enough to make his teeth chatter.
The air felt alive—pulsing with something raw and dangerous. Ezra's wide lavender eyes darted between Shirley and the monster, his breath coming in sharp, shallow bursts. Shirley wasn't just fighting; he was resonating with something deeper, something Ezra could feel humming in his bones.
'Focus, Ezra. Do something.'
But his body remained frozen, his feet anchored to the frost-slick stone. The creature roared, its hollow yellow eyes narrowing as Shirley darted under its guard, dagger flashing in an upward arc. The blade struck deep into one of the creature's wing joints with a sickening crack. Black ichor burst from the wound, sizzling as it splattered onto the floor.
The monster shrieked, its wail vibrating through Ezra's chest like a drumbeat. It lashed out wildly, claws slicing through stone and air alike. Shirley narrowly avoided the worst of it, but one claw raked across his shoulder, tearing fabric and drawing a bloom of crimson across his shirt.
Shirley gritted his teeth, stumbling slightly before recovering his stance. His dagger came up again, but the creature was already adapting. Its elongated frame convulsed as frost spiderwebbed across the stone, the temperature plummeting sharply. Ezra's breath fogged in the freezing air.
The monster lunged low, its skeletal beak slicing forward like a spear. Shirley dodged sideways, his palm slamming into the ground. A sharp crack echoed as a shockwave rippled outward, forcing the creature to stagger back.
But it didn't last. The monster corrected its stance, its talons whipping toward Shirley's exposed flank.
Ezra's eyes darted to the side. A large slab of concrete, cracked and precariously balanced on a broken beam, caught his attention. He didn't think—he just moved.
His boots slid slightly on the icy floor as he sprinted toward it. Adrenaline surged through his veins, burning away the hesitation in his chest. The slab was heavier than he'd expected, cold and rough against his palms. But he pushed—he pushed with everything he had.
The concrete struck the creature square in the head with a hollow crunch. It staggered, its skeletal neck snapping sideways from the impact.
Shirley didn't waste the opening. He lunged forward with a brutal precision, dagger in hand. The blade buried itself deep into the creature's exposed neck, black ichor spilling down in thick rivulets.
The monster reeled backward, its screech sharp enough to rattle the stones in the walls. Ezra flinched, hands flying to his ears as the sound pressed down on him like a physical weight. Dust and fragments of rock fell from the ceiling, the chamber trembling under the creature's wail.
But even in agony, the creature struck again.
Its talons came down in a frenzied swipe. Shirley managed to deflect one with his dagger, but the second raked across his side. The force of the impact hurled him backward, sending him crashing into the stone wall. His dagger clattered away, spinning across the frost-coated floor.
Ezra's heart slammed against his ribs as he watched Shirley slump against the wall. Blood bloomed across his side, staining his shirt a deep crimson. Shirley coughed, a thin stream of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he tried—and failed—to push himself upright.
The creature, still standing despite its grievous wounds, slowly turned its head toward Shirley. Its glowing yellow eyes locked onto the weakened man, its skeletal jaw hanging slightly open, ichor dripping in slow, viscous threads.
The air in the chamber felt sharp, heavy with impending violence. Shirley's chest heaved with each strained breath, his eyes half-lidded but still sharp. His trembling hand pressed weakly against his bleeding side, attempting to staunch the flow of crimson spreading across his torn shirt.
Ezra's gaze darted around the room. The slab he'd thrown was now shattered into useless rubble. Shirley's dagger lay far out of reach. The fire, their only source of warmth and light, was dying, its embers flickering weakly against the icy air. Shadows crept along the walls, stretching and curling like silent spectators to the violence about to unfold.