From the Gallows | Wilbur Soot

Act Eight: The Reversal

"That's not my name," Inferna says, but her response is too quick, and her voice falters at the end. It's hard to lie when caught so off guard.

The prince shakes his head, clicking his tongue disappointedly as Quackity had done earlier that night. "Don't even bother trying to lie. I'm not interested," he says. "Now, like I said, I think you and I are due for a rematch."

"You want to fight me again?" Inferna asks with disbelief. She took him down twice with ease before, each time taking less than ten seconds.

The prince seems to read her mind, amusement tingling in his eyes, and it feels as if he's laughing in her face.

He beckons her forward with two fingers, to which Inferna takes out her witch's blood dagger swiftly.

They circle each other slowly, the room around them fading into the background. Predator against predator. Lion against tigress. Fire against ice.

Prince against princess.

Inferna sends the first jab, which the prince dodges with unnerving ease. He wasn't this skilled when they fought the first time.

Regardless, Inferna finds herself saying, "It's not too late to forfeit."

The prince feigns offense. "But, my dear, we're just getting started." His blade misses Inferna's shoulder by less than a centimeter. "And, I must admit, I'd love to see you tied to my chair-"

Inferna cuts off his disgusting remark with a low kick to the leg, knocking him off balance. However, before she can get in a slice with her weapon, he's straightened again with more seriousness in his eyes than before.

The prince goes in for a swing with the dagger that Inferna dodges, using his momentary unbalance to strike at his abdomen. Blood instantly seeps through his black dress shirt which had long ago been untucked from his pants. He clutches at his side, cursing under his breath at the pain.

Inferna goes in for another strike, which he dodges flimsily, but she manages to use his pain to her advantage and sweep one of his legs out from underneath him. In the process of getting the prince fully on his back and straddling him, Inferna earns a stab from his dagger into her shoulder.

She cries out from the pain, fumbling to get him pinned underneath herself. When she thinks she's finally done it, in the blink of an eye the prince has managed to flip them over and switch the exact positions. Inferna swings at his back with the dagger, but without even having to look behind himself, the prince grabs her wrist and stops it midway.

Inferna grunts, trying to force the dagger to the prince's back, but he holds firm. He doesn't even seem to strain at all.

He makes it look easy.

Using her frustration to his advantage, the prince quickly takes Inferna's dagger from her hand and scatters it across the floor. He then pins her hands to her sides, leaning forward and smirking in her face.

"Surrender," he says softly, almost like it's a compliment. Like he doesn't have a blade to her neck.

She writhes under his grasp, but he doesn't budge. If anything, he just looks down on her pitifully.

Inferna has never felt more pathetic in all of her life.

This. This is the worst case scenario. A nightmare come to life right before her eyes.

"Maybe he'll just kill me. At least then I wouldn't have to face my father's wrath," she thinks, almost relishing in the thought.

With that sliver of hope, Inferna goes limp, allowing the prince to pull her up to her feet and walk her to the chair.