Page 205 of Barbi and the Villain

Yet I can’t give up.

The whines of the dogs are loud in my ears. PomPom’s sharp cry followed by BonBon’s howl and Ander’s whimpers of uncertainty cause a rift inside my soul.

They won’t hurt my babies. Even if it’s the last thing I will do, I will make sure my babies are safe.

Sniffling and wiping the blood from my face, I get to my feet. Feet apart, I assume the posture Nykander taught me. Closing my eyes, I visualize my shield taking shape again. I channel my energy to the surface, but this time ten times stronger.

More blood pours from my nose as I force the power out of me. My ears are ringing, and the veins in my temples throb from the effort. But I don’t let the overwhelming sensation of pain stop me.

“You will not win,” I mutter. First, it’s a whisper. But as my energy spills forth from deep within me, my words become a loud cry—a weapon that spears right through the soldiers’ formation.

They hold steady, ordering the creature to move in front of them and absorb the blow. But I take advantage of the creature’s lack of speed to run around in circles, releasing shout after shout until my throat is raw from screaming. Each vocalization is a blow.

My voice is my weapon, and as I slowly learn how to use it, I dig deep within my soul, ransacking all those conflicting emotions and bringing them to the surface to fuel my rage.

The creature runs with me, trying to keep up. But even at my normal pace, I’m faster than it.

The wave of energy my voice produces causes ripples in the formation. And as the formation wobbles, so does the creature, losing some of its balance. I take advantage of that to channel my energy into boomerangs again.

I destabilize them with my screams, and before they can gather their bearings, I unleash my boomerangs.

It’s hard to control both weapons at the same time.

My voice is easier since it comes naturally. But the boomerangs require precision and aim.

My vision becomes a tunnel, and the target is the light at the end.

The boomerangs circle around the creature while I rattle the formation some more. While the creature chases after one of the boomerangs, the other heads straight for the bottom of the triangular formation where most of the soldiers are gathered together. As it reaches close to them, I pull all my remaining energy and imbue it into that weapon. The boomerang grows in size exponentially, and by the time it hits the target, it’s the size of the entire line-up of soldiers, cutting them all in one go. As it moves farther into the triangle, it loses some of the momentum, but it still manages to kill another row.

My knees buckle and I collapse to the floor.

There are around six soldiers left alive, out of which most are already injured.

The dark veil covering their foundation dissipates, and with it, so does the creature, melting seemingly into the ground.

I breathe harshly. My throat aches, and I can’t even swallow the excess saliva coating my mouth.

More blood flows from my nose and ears. My eyes, too, are bleeding tears of blood. Every orifice in my body is suddenly assaulted by uncontrollable hemorrhage. My energy flickers in and out around me, close to disappearing.

The remaining soldiers assess the damage with horror in their eyes. But soon, that horror turns to anger and they turn their attention toward me. Unsheathing their swords, they rush toward me with a cry of war.

I startle back, wobbling to my feet. My legs tremble, and I’m barely able to move from the weakness that settles in my bones.

I’m too slow for them, and before I know it, they’re in front of me, waving their swords in blinding motions until each blade cuts me in a different spot.

More blood gushes from my flesh, the cuts so deep, they aren’t even healing anymore.

And as one sword penetrates my midriff, I choke on the blood rushing up my throat.

I cough uncontrollably, all the while flailing my arms and legs in an attempt to move away from them.

Dizziness overtakes me.

“Nyk,” I whisper. “Where are you?”

My voice is barely audible from the damage to my throat. Pain unlike any I’ve ever felt sears itself in my soul, as well as the anguish at being abandoned like this.

He was supposed to be by my side. He was supposed to protect me. So where is he? Where is he when my flesh is being torn from me? When blow after blow cuts me so deep, I cannot verbalize the pain any longer.

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