The Duns

Dying

Chapter thirty-six

Ester

Day two

Maximus' tongue wraps sharply around the girl's throat, her hands help tightly behind her back, her expression too horror some to describe.

I have two choices now: run ahead and hope for the best, or walk cautiously and hope for the best. No, three choices.

I smile.

"Maximus," I command, pacing slowly towards him, as other soldiers get back on their feet and crawl around us, "Maximus, my brother, my friend, let the girl go, she's of no use to any of us; her death won't affect who wins this battle- you know that as well as I do."

He snickers, "Ester, brother, her death affects Peter, who this whole battle does depend on."

Stupid boy going around telling everyone his feelings.

"This guy?" I say turning only shoulder towards where I hope Peter is, "this wimpy seventeen-year-old kid? He almost died like fifty times today, Maximus. Instead, he couldn't even stand up, I very literally had to fling him to his feet.

I shudder as my powers run through my head like little buzzing bees- I maintain eye contact with Maximus, whose tongue seems to be losing its hold. Just as long his Snakes stay away from him, all can be saved.

I close my eyes, focusing on the two people in front of me, and the viscous weapon one of them holds. From the corner of my eye, I can only just make out Peter dragging himself over to the others. He trips over a lump of mud and falls flat on his face; laughter erupts all around us- the tetrakinita, the single most powerful man on this planet, falling head first into a pile of brown goo.

Just in time for my next step.

I put out my arms, palms angled towards Maximus' face, twisting my fingers in sync to my mind: I imagine Maximus' tongue letting go of Catherine, wrapping itself around his own neck, and clutching my fingers together in a quick action, I imagine it tightening its grasp.

A squeaky gasp lets it way through Maximus' throat and I look up for a second- my first mistake.

Snakes around me suddenly figure out what's happening and pounce towards me. I stand in my stance, my hands playing around with Maximus' mind. Peter will need to handle them.

Not a single finger touches my skin and as I toil around with Maximus, chocking him to death in the worst way possible, try hard to make him have the exact opposite of a ball of a time.

With a last grunt, I hold Maximus in a pathetic position, and walk towards him, pulling out my dagger from my suit- my second mistake. I plunge the iron into Maximus' chest, watching as his tongue slithers away from his throat, defeated.

I take a moment to relish this victory.

And that's all I get.

Seconds later, a sharp white blade, cold and emotionless places itself inches below my chin, no. I have no time to fight back, no time to call for help, no time to do anything but smile as my attacker's hand presses through my skin.

My third mistake: not getting to apologize to everyone I did wrong, because those were only, lonely, thoughts darting around in my head as my eyes closed.