Page 19 of The Shattered Rite
But they heard.
Heads snapped toward her. If those were heads.
She whispered, “Of course you heard that.”
Then they charged.
She ran.
Fast.
Sloppy.
Not like a hero. Not like a warrior.
Like a girl who wanted to live.
She bolted through an archway, lungs heaving, boots skidding on stone. Her shoulder slammed into a wall hard enough to make her teeth rattle.
Behind her, claws shrieked against stone.
Not footsteps. Too many limbs. The sound was faster than any running beast.
She dove beneath a collapsed altar, arms scraped raw, ribs grinding, heart battering her ribs.
The hiss followed.
She didn’t breathe.
Didn’t blink.
She tasted her own blood in her mouth.
Then—pressure.
Not air.
Not sound.
Just weight. Pressing against her skin like invisible hands.
The creatures froze.
Quivered.
Then—turned.
Dragged their claws back into the dark.
Silent.
Drawn elsewhere.
She stayed frozen long after they vanished.
“I’m going to die down here. And worse, my body might get eaten.”
When she finally crawled out, her legs shook so badly she nearly fell.
