The monster's glowing yellow eyes locked onto Shirley as it prowled forward, talons clicking against the frost-covered stone. Its skeletal frame shifted with an unsettling grace, feathers bristling as it closed the distance.
"Honestly, dying to a giant chicken has got to be one of the most embarrassing ways to go out," Ezra muttered under his breath.
His voice trembled slightly, but irritation simmered beneath the fear. Maybe it was the biting cold creeping into his bones—Ezra had always hated the cold. Growing up in District 5 as an orphan, winters had been merciless. No food, no heat—just him, a cardboard box, and whatever scraps he could scavenge. It wasn't a life he'd wish on anyone, and certainly not one he'd want to end in the claws of some overgrown bird monster.
The creature froze mid-step, its grotesque head swiveling toward him. Four glowing eyes narrowed, fixing Ezra with an almost thoughtful stare. Its skeletal beak clacked softly, and it tilted its head, as if… curious.
Ezra's breath caught in his throat, his fingers twitching at his sides.
For a brief, fleeting moment, the monster seemed hesitant. Almost… uncertain.
But then it shifted, discarding Shirley entirely and turning its full, predatory attention onto Ezra. Its sharp beak clacked, emitting a low, rattling squawk that echoed through the chamber like glass grinding against steel.
Ezra swallowed hard, the thin layer of frost beneath his boots cracking as he instinctively took a step back.
"Great," he muttered under his breath. "Now I've got its attention. Fantastic plan, Ezra. Really brilliant."
The creature's talons flexed, embedding themselves into the stone floor with a grating screech. It began advancing, each slow, deliberate step sending faint tremors through the icy ground.
The air grew heavier. The temperature plummeted even further, Ezra's breath misting in front of his face. His muscles screamed at him to move, to run—to do something.
His eyes darted around the chamber, desperate for something—anything—that could give him an edge. Then he spotted it.
The remnants of their earlier fire lay scattered in a corner. The flames had long since died, leaving behind a pile of blackened wood and faintly glowing embers.
Without giving himself time to overthink, he bolted toward the pile of wood. His boots skidded across the frost-covered stone, but he managed to keep his footing. Behind him, the creature let out an ear-splitting screech and lunged. Talons as long as swords slammed into the ground where Ezra had been standing a heartbeat before, sending shards of stone flying in every direction.
Ezra dove forward, rolling as he hit the ground, and scrambled toward the woodpile. His fingers clawed through the ashes and splintered remains, fumbling for something—anything—solid enough to use as a weapon.
His hand closed around a thick, charred branch. The wood was cracked and still faintly warm to the touch, its surface splintered and rough.
The creature spun around, its glowing eyes narrowing as it prowled toward him once more. Its skeletal frame shifted with a jerky grace, each movement unnatural and predatory.
Ezra's breath came in sharp gasps as he forced himself to his feet, gripping the charred wood like his life depended on it—because it did.
"Alright, big bird," he muttered, forcing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Let's see if you like your chicken extra crispy."
The creature lunged again, its talons outstretched, its beak snapping forward like a spear.
Ezra swung the charred wood with every ounce of strength he had. He aimed for the exposed patch of raw, glistening skin where Shirley's dagger had already torn through the creature's feathers.
The impact landed with a sickening crack. The jagged edge of the wood drove deep into the creature's wound, black ichor bursting outward in thick, viscous streams. The ichor sizzled as it hit the frost-covered stone, releasing a foul stench that made Ezra gag.
The creature shrieked, its screech reverberating through the chamber like a shockwave. Its skeletal frame convulsed, wings flaring wide as it stumbled backward. Talons scraped against stone, carving deep gouges as it tried to steady itself.
Ezra's arms shook violently from the force of the strike. His knuckles were white as he clutched the splintering wood, his breath ragged and sharp.
"Yeah, that's right!" Ezra shouted, half in exhilaration, half in pure, unfiltered terror.
"Didn't like that, did you?!"
The creature's glowing yellow eyes snapped toward him again, blazing with fury. Its skeletal beak opened wide, releasing a guttural sound that vibrated in Ezra's chest like the toll of a funeral bell.
Its talons flexed, its wings bristling as it prepared to strike again.
Ezra's grin faltered, his mind racing as his body tensed instinctively.
'Oh shit. What do I do now?'