Tales of the Vangen: The Black Ministry's Betrayal (Book 1)

Chapter 35: A Dance With Death

There's a certain thrill when it comes to dancing with death. The footwork has to be just right, the rhythm in perfect tandem with your partner. Each dancer as keen as a razor's edge. Or you die. Simple as that.

For Culter, nothing could be more thrilling than the dance he was having with the monster in the crypt. It moved at speeds no mortal man possessed. Growing, undulating, and twisting its body to adapt. But it was Culter who controlled the tempo, and every adaptation was met with a new pace to keep the creature on its toes.

He ducked just as another razor clawed fist came hurtling past, turning another stone sarcophagus into dust. Closer than last time. Lashing out, he sliced his stiletto across a meaty forearm, spilling gouts of dark blood across the weathered flagstones. Enough to paint a masterpiece.

The creature's agony was apparent, its hatred for Culter unmistakable. A shriek escaped from its lips as its tongue sprouted into a snake, lunging at him. He jumped away just as it struck the flagstones.

There was a stillness as they stared each other down, assessing one another. The creature's breathing echoed in the stone crypt, heaving with fatigue. Culter breath rasped in his own throat. His spirit was willing, but the flesh was infuriatingly weak. He pulled the stiletto close, aiming the point forward.

Culter spared a glance behind him. The Captain had pulled himself up into a standing position, slinging Nox's arm over his shoulder as he did the same. The Austerland's crossbow hung limply in his hand, but there was no prying the weapon out of his grip. The last time someone tried, they left with a mouth full of broken teeth. There was no parting Nox of his prized possession.

"Keep that fecking thing busy. I'm getting Nox out of here." Dux barked as he dragged the Austerland away. Culter didn't have a chance to reply. The creature suddenly leaped at him, claws of every type sprouted from its body to grab at him.

Culter ducked, stabbed, and ducked again. He sliced off scaled talon, weaved past a horse's hoof from stomping him, only to get caught across the arm by a tiger's paw. Four hooked claws raked his flesh, sending a burning wave of pain coursing through him. Stars danced in his eyes, but it merely stoked the angry flame inside of him.

The rhythm returned as Culter danced around the creature's attack. He pirouetted, ducked, and stabbed the stiletto's full length through a robust and sinewy calf muscle. The monster buckled and dropped to all fours. Propelling himself with the momentum, Culter ripped the stiletto free and rose back to his feet, stabbing again and again at the creatures back.

Hopefully, with enough holes poked through it, the damned thing would finally leak out and die. Unfortunately, the creature had enough fight left to rear back and kick Culter in the chest with its hind legs. The world spun as Culter careened through the air, skipping off a sarcophagus, and landing painfully onto the stone floor.

He blinked and looked wearily to the side. Dux and Nox were hunched behind a stone slab closeby. The Austerlander was still fighting to stay awake. Dux, on the other hand, was glaring at him.

"I told you to keep it fecking busy." Dux hissed.

"I'm trying," Culter mumbled as he tried to pull himself up. The ground shook as the creature leaped onto a nearby sarcophagus, glaring over them like a church gargoyle. It smiled, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth, saliva dripping onto the floor. And then it began to speak.

"Did you really think your little starlit pig sticker would be enough to kill me, mundling?" A growl rippled through the creature's throat, mimicking a man's laugh. "The prince of Danic thought he could beat me with iron alone as well. I'll show you just how wrong you are. The same way I showed him."