Page 161 of Mayhem and Minnie

Dashing to the end of the formation, it is with horror that I realize just how big it is. It must have nine or ten rows, each one containing more and more creatures.

As I reach the end of the formation, I start with one of the creatures near the edge.

I throw in punch after punch to the front of his chest, but they do little damage. The skin bends once more, absorbing the energy of each blow.

The creature, too, remains focused on Minnie, its mouth wide open and emitting the same low frequency hum as the others.

Gritting my teeth, I put more strength into my punches, hoping at least one of them will hit.

Moments pass. My heart races like hell. Sweat pebbles on my forehead, droplets falling down my face. My hair is damp from the effort, as are my clothes.

I take my coat off and dump it to the ground.

The cold of the night assails me, made even more potent by the sweat clinging to my clothes.

I shiver, but I don’t give up. In fact, as I throw the next punch, I find I’m able to channel more strength without the weight of additional clothes. The cold too, although initially biting, only serves to spur me further.

I fucking hate the cold. But in this moment, it might be my biggest ally.

I take off my sweater, too, remaining only in a thin shirt.

My breathing grows labored, but I force myself to focus on the task. Just one. If I get one of them to stop interacting with the formation, perhaps Minnie’s prison might weaken enough so I can pull her out.

I throw my punches haphazardly. But one of them lands in the hollow part of the mummy’s stomach, right under the protruding ribs.

This time, the flesh doesn’t bend around the contour of my knuckles. Although the cavity is deep, when I’m elbow deep inside the creature, I touch something.

Something that makes it stir.

I raise a tired brow.

Not wanting to lose momentum, I pummel into his stomach, one blow after another.

Dry, cold, snake-like flesh meets me at the bottom of the cavity. But with every blow, I get more reactions from this fucking walking mummy.

It takes me a couple minutes of repeated blows for the creature to move. At first, it’s eye movements and a few facial cues. But eventually, it winces in paint with its whole body.

Seeing this as a breakthrough, I don’t stop until he releases a sharp sound that goes against the collective hum of the formation. One last punch that seems to penetrate the back of its stomach and he reels back in pain, breaking from his place in the formation.

His mouth slowly closes, his eyes losing all life. In a matter of seconds, he turns into dust, carried away by the wintry wind as if he’d never even been there.

Breathing hard, I turn to look at Minnie. The previously opaque cage has now become a little more transparent, giving me hope.

She still cannot move, but I note the hope in her eyes, too.

Not wanting to waste any moment, I hurry to the next sentinel, repeating the process and pummeling that hollow crevice until I make a hole through it. This sentinel, too, breaks from the formation and turns into dust.

I repeat the process until the entire last row is turned to ashes.

I’m close to fainting from exhaustion, but I don’t stop. I simply go to the next row and do it all over again. Only when I’m halfway through this row does Minnie regain some of her mobility.

Removing my hand from one mummy’s stomach, I watch as he steps back, screaming in despair before becoming dust.

“Marlowe…” A low sound reaches my ears.

I turn, wobbling on my feet. A smile pulls at my lips as I slowly walk to her.

But then something strange happens.

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