《WAKIAGARU》The Dancer

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“Where are you taking me?”

“Silence!” the wretch commanded as he pulled her down a dark set of wooden stairs. They creaked as they went down into a stone cellar.

Sakura’s attention was drawn toward a door, behind which she heard a scurry of activity. She sensed life behind that door and a chill ran up her spine.

“What do you want with me?”

“Mmm,” he noised, licking his lips as he lead her into another room. There was a table at the center. “Sit,” he commanded her.

Sakura obeyed for no other reason than that he had a knife. She hopped up and set on the table.

“So sweet,” the man they called spider muttered as he took some leather cords and began to tie her feet.

“Tell me what you want?” Sakurai demanded. She kicked, swatted at him. He grabbed her by the neck and started choking her.

“The witch,” he said, his face so close to hers, she could smell his foul stink as her eyes watered. “She wants you. She wants your magical energy.”

His grip relaxed and he laughed as the dancer gasped for air, then coughed.

“Yesss,” he continued, his voice a thin rasp, like metal on metal when sharpening a knife. “First she intends to feed you to her pets.”

Sakura swallowed, glanced at the wall where that other room lay beyond. Those things behind the door?

“They will suck the blood from your body, leaving your skin and bones a hallow husk, and then she wants to extract your magical essence from their bodies.” His tone went into a lament. “Oh, those poor spiders.”

His attention changed as he regarded her. “Now, now—don’t shake, love. I will save you.”

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The thought of being fed to a room full of spiders frightened her so, that even though she knew this vile man would kill her for very little reason, she grasped at those words.

“Save me?”

“Ohhh, yesss! Quiet!”

Sakura squinted at him, confused. “But…”

“Not you! I’m talking to him!” He turned. “Yes, I know,” he snapped, seemingly speaking to someone else in the room. “We will feast—but not yet!”

She didn’t need to take in his state with her gifts to tell that he was mad, but she did it anyway. Within his head she could see the twisted nature of this man’s mind.

I need to escape, she thought, or they’re going to kill me—feed me to those spiders, or be eaten by this spider!

She jumped off the table, her elbow making contact with the side of his face. Knocked to the stone flooring, she rushed passed him, threw open the door and ran.

She scrabbled up the steps, her blood rushing in her ears. She made for the door at the top. It was slightly ajar and letting in a crack of light.

Something flew past her and thwacked into the door in front of her. Sakura yelped, jumped back and fell into his arms.

“No! Let me go!” She kicked, but it was useless. He had his hand under her jaw, his fingers digging into her cheeks like cold steel while he held her by the neck with his other hand, cold and clammy.

She couldn’t breathe.

Squirming, the dancer’s world went dark.

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