To Calydon. A friend, a storyteller, a hero.
Fear. Pure, unadulterated fear.
How long had it been since Brook had felt such a sensation? A looming sense, a gut feeling, an instinct that made you want to run until you fell over, dead.
"Damn it, the Spire isn't that way! Are you blind?"
"I don' sae yoo drivin'! Why don'tcha make shore th' lassie's actually knocked out?"
"Oh, for fuck's sake, you drunkard, how many times do you want me to bash her skull in? Do we want her to die in the Spire, or have her die in our car?"
Brook felt herself fading, the darkness reaching out its tendrils around her, threatening to swallow her whole. She struggled against it.
No! She thought. I have to live, I have to survive! I have a mother, a father, a girlfriend to go back and see! She opened her mouth to scream, but that, too, was gripped by shadows. She felt herself choking on the dense mass of shadows, as it reached all the way down her throat.
She looked up to see the bright light above herher eyes pained as she resisted, attempting to move her arms and legs, but the lights of the street lamps fell further and further away.
Samantha, she called, weakly, with all of the will her brain could muster.
But no one heard a thing.
YOU ARE READING
To Slay a Spire
FantasyBrook, a human girl from modern-day society, wakes up at the bottom of an unfamiliar tower with no memories of how she arrived there, and very few recollections from her past life. Accompanied by an elf-eared sharpshooter and a heavily-armored drago...
