Ever been squeezed to death?

Ever had the air almost literally smashed from your lungs?

It's like it just forgets to form. The body forgets how to breathe, even though it's been doing it for years.

No? Lucky.

I stumbled back, still staring at Red Eyes.

My father.

There was no flash of recognition in his face. No hidden smile that said, "I'm faking it."

Dark blood ran down his leg from where I stabbed him.

I stabbed him. My own father.

And he tried to kill me.

I swallowed, not sure what to do.  "Dad?"

My voice was barely a whisper.

My father's fists clenched the smallest bit. A thrill ran through my chest. Maybe he did recognize me. Maybe he wasn't going to try and kill me.

Then he charged.

I barely stepped out the way in time. The hilt of the knife slipped down my skin, slick with sweat from my palms.

What was William thinking, giving me the knife? I couldn't fight with it.

Pain shot through my arm. I jumped, narrowly missing another hit from my father's hand. Without thinking, I threw my arms to the side causing sparks of fire to spread from my fingertips. One of the flames flickered in Dad's direction, touching his skin and clothes.

He moved before he was burned, pausing to collect himself.

The pause was all I needed. I took off through the trees, away from William and Merlin. King was nowhere to be seen, but if he stayed near his soldiers, Dad would've been the most protective.

If I could get him away from my friends for long enough, they could escape.

Dad's breath warmed the back of my neck. I ducked under tree branches, hopped over roots--did anything I could to get away.

My chest burned. The little air I managed to gasp in was so rushed I barely noticed it.

If I didn't do something quick, he'd catch me.

Two trees up ahead caught my attention. They were spaced far enough apart I could run through them, but just enough distance away from each other I could do something with it.

Ice wall. Make an ice wall.

Good plan.

I held my hands out to the side just enough I could skim the tree bark with my fingertips. As soon as I touched it, I cried out, "Glacies!"

Well, more like panted out. Breathing had become difficult.

A thud followed my words. I slowed, far enough away to catch my breath, then turned to see what happened.

The shadow of my father started to rise from the ground. I half-winced.

He ran into the wall full-force.

Plan, idiot. Think of a plan.

I bit my lip. Wasn't there a spell to freeze him or something? As long as I could make Dad quit trying to kill me, I'd be happy.

A ray of sunlight escaped the blanket of tree leaves and hit my eyes. I blinked.

My heart skipped a beat. The trees. Dad never could climb trees well. They were the perfect hiding place.

I ran to the nearest one and tore a piece of cloth from my clothes, then wrapped it around my waist. It left me a place to shove the knife. I bent my knees and sprung up, trying to grab a branch. Two tries later, my hands wrapped around the lowest one. I braced my getting against the trunk, trying to get up.

A growl made me climb faster. Dad stood at the side of the ice wall, glaring at me from across the clearing. He walked forward about three steps then froze, gazing at me dangling from the tree.

Uh-oh.

"Kaique!" Flames exploded from his fingertips and raced toward me. Pain raced up my arms as they reached me, causing me to let go of the tree and land on my back. Wind rushed from my lungs as black spots danced in my vision.

I cried out. My arm burned. White blisters spotted around the bloody red and black splotched area. It was almost like a checkerboard; charcoal flakes of skin covered over the scarlet of blood and exposed--exposed something. It may have been muscle.

It felt like a muscle.

My fingers brushed against the burn, then withdrew. Anything against it was almost unbearable.

I held my arm close to my body and tried to sit up. The world spun out of control, twirling and blurring like a runaway carriage.

A stick crunched near to my ear. The dark shadow of my father loomed over me, cut off all light that fell from the sky.

I met Dad's eyes. The red bore into mine, digging a hole into the back of my head and out again. He raised his hands over his head, flames licking his skin but not harming him.

He would kill me. I was going to die by my own father.

A tear tickled my ear. It wasn't fear of death that made my insides ache; I'd already touched hands with death. It was fear of what my father would do when he woke, when he snapped out of it. If he realized he was the one to kill me...

My throat constricted. "Dad, please," I whispered. "Please, wake up."

The red in his eyes flickered.

A breeze rustled the tree branches. I gasped. Just the smallest bit of extra air made my arm burn more than it was.

Dad's arms shook above his head. His eyes flashed from red to brown to red once more.

The red was winning.

Somehow, my non-burned hand found the hilt of Will's knife. I'm not sure how I managed to not stab myself from falling on it, but it was still nestled in the rag of my makeshift belt. My eyes landed on his ankle.

No spells to stop him came to my mind. If I didn't act, I'd be--as William would say--a Curly-Fry.

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

I don't know if he heard me.

The knife didn't resist as I swiped it through his ankle. Blood poured out of the skin, leaving a flash of white showing. He screamed and fell to the ground, his fingers wrapped around the bottom of his leg.

Acid threatened to burst out my mouth. I cut to his bone.

How many tendons did I just sever?

There was no time to think. I rolled up, fighting the dizziness that wanted to take over, and ran as fast as I could.

Dad's cries would reach me no matter how far away I was.

The world around me blurred. Wet raced down my cheeks, onto my arms.

Suck it up and find William, Rosinka ordered. Find him and Merlin and get the heck of here. You can't do anything my crying

I swallowed the lump in my throat. She had a valid point. I'd already stabbed my father, probably making it so he wouldn't walk right again.

Or he'd bleed out in the forest.

Or never forgive me for hurting him.

How much worse could I do?

Fingers closed around the roasted spot on my arm. The scream that rose up in my chest couldn't be stopped. It tore from my throat and echoed off the trees, swallowing the world in a high-pitched shriek.

Warm breath tickled my ear. "Hush, little shoe thrower. You'll wake mouse."

King yanked me around in a half circle. Lying on the ground, surrounded by thick black liquid was Merlin. His eyes were half open and vacant, focusing on nothing in particular. His chest rose and fell in broken, uneven, rattling breaths that shook his entire body.

No.

I don't know who thought it, me or Rosinka.

Our reaction was the same though. I slammed my free hand against King, hoping a spell would just happen.

He grabbed my wrist and twisted. A snap of something followed.

It was only when he let me fall and black swarmed in my eyes I realized the snap was my bones breaking.

He bent down and slapped at my cheeks. I barely focused on him.

Everything hurt. My arms, my legs, my stomach--everything. Hands that felt of nothing snatched me off the ground.

King widened his eyes. He looked almost innocent. "I can make it stop," he whispered in a breath so faint I almost missed it. "The pain--I can make it go away. All you have to do is tell me where your little boyfriend is."

A vague shadow of a slender object caught my eyes. The knife. If I could get it...

Somehow, I managed to choke up a laugh. "One, not a boyfriend. I'm a kid. Two, I believe you know what U.M. stands for in Arian?"

All seven of his heads snarled. For a moment, I had wings. I was a bird, soaring through the air.

Then I crashed into the ground.

I think I maxed out the pain meter.

The knife was only inches away. Everything protested as I wrapped my hands around it. The hilt slid against my skin, slick with blood and sweat.

I pulled it closer, holding it like a lifeline. King's footsteps grew closer and closer, then finally stopped. He bent down; breath from all seven heads beat against my temple.

"Your friend. He has something of mine. Where is he?" A hint of danger unmasked itself from his voice and lingered in the air.

My response was something like plunging the knife into his abdomen. His eyes lit up in surprise and, too late, he pushed me away. The knife came with me, still stuck in his gut, ripping away skin and muscle.

A hiss like leaking air came from the surrounding muraes. They all clutched at their stomachs with twisted faces.

The leader yanked my hair back so I was facing him. He growled.

I just tried to not pass out. A smirk twitched onto my lips. "Run away, little mouse. Run back to your castle with your healers before your magic runs out."

The head closest to me flashed a toothy grin. "I still have a few minutes left." He wrapped his hands around my nearly fried arm and tugged. "You have something to do first." 

Black slime trailed behind King as he dragged me behind him. Droplets of blood--my blood--splattered spots on the dead grass. The droplets turned into smears and streaks of crimson over brown sticks and dirt and...

Feet.

King froze, shoving me so I tipped forward, almost falling onto a blood soaked leg. 

Yes, it was attached to someone. 

I caught myself, then felt a bag of rocks drop into my stomach. Dad stared up at me, eyes wide, fists clenched, jaw set.

About fifty different feelings pummelled me at once. I tore myself away, praying none of what I felt showed on my face.

I held my broken arm closer to my body. "Why am I here, King?"

He pointed. A tongue flicked out from his highest head. "Heal him."

"And how do you suggest I do that?"

"Place your hand on his ankle."

I stared down, down at the slash I made. It wasn't as deep as I first thought.

That was good. I was already teetering dangerously on the edge of throwing up.

King's voice fuzzed out. He started directing me, but I didn't hear a word he said. My hand on Dad's leg tingled, but not from a burn.

A sudden fire seemed to engulf my ankle. I cried out and yanked my hand away from Dad. His slashed skin was closed up, pale, without a scratch.

And dark red blood poured out from the same spot on my leg.

Tears sprang to my eyes. The entire time, I hadn't wanted to cry. I hadn't wanted to spur it on--the fight.

But I had.

King reached down and pushed against my snapped arm and slashed leg. Pain like lightning traveled through my body.

A high-pitched yell came from somewhere. I didn't know who made it, but I wished they'd stop.

Through clenched teeth, King grinned. "Now, your little friend will come running. If you won't tell me where he is, he can come to you."

No.

I closed my mouth. The scream stopped. He couldn't come. William had to stay--

"Kaique!" I shouted. Flames shot out from the tips of my fingers, hitting King and any other murae too near to me.

For all of two seconds.

Cold metal slapped around my wrist. The red and orange flames flickered out in an instant, only leaving gray clouds of smoke behind.

King glared at me, his arms raised in the air. A silver cuff like the one on my wrist was in his hands.

"Nice try," he growled. "But I have backup plans."

With that, a weight slammed into the back of my head. The world flickered from black to dull red, smudging everything in and out of focus.

King yelled something. It came out as a muffled noise. One of his heads mouthed 'William' over and over.

Too bad. He wouldn't come. He had enough sense not to.

Right?

Something else hit my back. It was like electricity soaring through my spine. Air refused to enter and exit my lungs.

Everything just wanted to stop.

A blood red fog kept swallowing my vision more and more. Black came in with it, creeping in on the tail end, slowly taking hold of everything with color.

He won't come, will he? He's not an idiot.

They would kill me if he didn't. A thrill of terror ran through my body. I didn't want to die.  No matter how I pretended I was brave, I didn't want to go.

Neither did Rosinka. We were the same, afraid of everything the other feared.

Just as the black ate away the edges of the world, another voice, higher, softer, kinder, bored into my skull. The pain stopped. Cool air rushed to my lungs. I gasped it in, never getting enough.

William, you moron.

Then the black came back from the edge of the world and swallowed everything.

______________________________________

...wow.

That was rougher than it should've been.

Seriously, sorry guys. Apparently, I was in a bad mood when I started to write this chapter and it got taken out on poor Clair.

THIS WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!

Honestly.

In my outline, this never happened. It was a LOT happier.

But nooo. Now everyone's gonna die.

Or whatever I wind up typing down.

*Laughs.* Oh boy. This is gonna be a train wreck. 😂✌