Your Warmth - Alraune, Ch I

By Black Waltz 0

†††

One fateful day, the worst thing that could ever possibly happen in the dungeon occurred. They lost a team member.

It wasn't like Cyrus, who ultimately met his fate deep down beneath the earth some months earlier; a loss that some parts of the town were still struggling to take. It was an abandonment. Magi's team had fled, and he was all alone.

His adventuring party had been formulated specifically to tackle one select region of the dungeon; a labyrinthine forest that existed under the ground, surviving somehow without the need for light. Mina, the librarian in Adratea had gone through all the botany books she had to find precedent for that sort of thing, but like so many other mysteries in the dungeon the forest remained one of its kind – sinister and dangerous.

Several expeditions into the forest, dubbed ‘Underwood' by Siro who had been the first to explore revealed not much fauna in the way of malicious creatures, but there were several strains of deadly plants growing in that area; carnivorous vegetation, acid-spitting flowers, and a deep infestation of plant-like humanoids known as the Alraune. Those at least they had prior record of; a semi-intelligent species of monster that ensnares humans to increase their own numbers. Male alraune hunt for females, and vice versa. Siro had come out relatively unharmed from the Underwood because all of the alraune he had seen were male, and therefore left him alone.

This did bring him a lot of worry over the female adventurers of the town who also explored the dungeon, but wisely they left that region for the men to explore and set out in a different area for their treasure. Magi had joined the Underwood exploration team because it seemed like the best idea at the time, along with Ravendor and Darren from the Adratea inn and Warren the doctor from the town's clinic. He knew them all well (though not so much Warren but he seemed friendly enough) and felt that he could trust them with his back, so one dark night he set off in the party of four to reach the heart of the Underwood and survey what was there.

And that was when the ordeal began.

†††

"Monster!" Darren shrieked as he pelted out of the cavern entrance like the hounds of hell were after him. "Monster, monster!"

The rest of his team was congregated at the entrance of the cave waiting for his return. Darren was agile, sneaky and light-footed, capable of all manner of stealth acts so whenever they explored a new, uncharted area of the dungeon it was often that they sent Darren in as a scout, as a yellow canary to make sure they weren't walking into a trap. Darren was good at his job, mostly, but he also had jittery nerves which caused him to be predisposed to running out of cave entrances yelling about monsters at the top of his lungs. It was a known weakness that his team was still trying to wean him out of him.

The other three waiting for him to return looked up from their respective distractions as Darren reached them, leaning over and placing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Warren was helping to gauze Ravendor's arm where a violent flower had spat acid on him, and Magi had simply been waiting patiently for their scout to return. "So what did you see?" He asked Darren now, as if he hadn't just heard the shouts earlier.

Darren glanced at the other two first, but then fixed on Magi. He wasn't the leader, but he was as good as any to report to. "I-Inside… near the exit… a huge monster. She was sleeping…" He breathed between pauses, being as non specific as usual.

"It probably will not be sleeping for much longer now that you have informed the world." Ravendor scolded as Warren finished bandaging him and he fit his burned arm back into his coat sleeve. He was the team's unofficial leader, simply for the fact that he was the oldest and the bossiest in the group. He stood up from where he had been sitting against a mossy boulder. "Did it seem dangerous? Describe it to us." He added.

"Well, it was one of those plant people things we've been seeing all around the wood, but bigger. Much bigger. I… uh, also think it was a girl." Darren explained, wringing his hands nervously.

"What makes you say that?" Magi asked, curious.

"It had… er… boobs."

Magi glanced at Ravendor. "That could be dangerous. Do you think it might be true?"

"They were actually kinda nice boobs now that I think about it…" Their scout continued on obliviously.

Ravendor shrugged. "I suppose it is logical to believe that there must at least be one female alraune in this dank, dirty forest, or else the population would collapse."

"Just like a termite colony, or a grove of faeries." Warren contributed helpfully as he packed up his first aid kit behind them.

"What?"

"Nothing." He answered demurely.

It was indeed rather risky. A female alraune would have no problems attacking and devouring all four of them, but then again, Magi had sort of been expecting this deep down in the Underwood. "If the monster has made her lair at the very exit of this forest where we must go, then there's really only one thing we can do, right?" He reasoned, awaiting their response. He was a young, strong and particularly handsome hunter-wanderer who had temporarily made Adratea his home. Both stoic and polite, but also rather friendly, he had made a lot more friends in town than probably he himself was aware.

Darren stepped back a little as the gentle swaying frond of a fern or some other bit of greenery brushed against his ankle. He was wary of bugs and other strange things in this subterranean forest, but all there ever was were plants, plants, and even more plants. He wondered how the other teams were doing elsewhere in the dungeon. Maybe they were wishing for plants right about now…

Warren made another interjection as he stood, brushing the dirt from his blue jeans. Usually he was the lab-coated, glasses-wearing nerdy-looking physician from town, but down there in the dungeon the glasses came off and the lab coat stayed neatly tied about his waist. It made him look like an entirely different person, a tall, strapping fighter whose physical prowess was exceeded only by Zagtakh and possibly Siro; the mayor. Warren folded his arms. "Yeah, but we've got to be careful. Alraune are called ‘the man trap' for a reason, you know."

The fern brushed against Darren's ankle again. He ignored it. "I heard that once an alraune king or queen catches you… they suck out your very soul." He said in a small haunted voice, the wisdom coming from none other than his sagely grandfather who had been a master storyteller and derived a perverse pleasure from frightening the daylights out of his grandkids. Outside the cavern though, where it seemed to be safe it wasn't so scary.

"So it's like a succubus?" Magi asked. Unlike the others he wasn't so quick to dismiss old tales as mere fancy. The tales had to come from somewhere after all, and mankind wasn't as creative as it liked to think it was.

"What a load of rubbish." Ravendor scoffed as he loaded five fresh bullets into his gun.

"Maybe. It did have boobs." Darren said with a nervous laugh, trying to calm himself before everything went to hell.

The plant that had been irritating him brushed against his leg again but higher this time, coaxed by the breeze.

Only…

There was no breeze so far down beneath the earth.

Warren noticed it first. He tensed. "Darren! Your leg-"

Something lithe but firm wrapped itself around his upper leg. Darren whirled around. At first what he thought he saw was some kind of weird snake crawling out of the cavern, dark, forest green, but it was way too long for it to be some kind of reptile and if it were true wouldn't he have been bitten by now? Instead, the second thing that came to mind was an octopus… like a tentacle.

Darren screamed.

The green thing pulled hard against him like a lassoist roping in a captive calf. Darren was thrown onto his stomach and he hit the grassy, mossy ground with a soft slapping sound, bracing against the fall with his hands. By this time the others had seen it as well and were at attention now, Magi darting forward with his quick reflexes and trying to grab for one of Darren's hands, but as soon as his fingertips brushed against the other man's the green thing pulled again, not like a lassoist but more like a fisherman; reeling in his catch.

The dark-haired youth immediately slipped away from them, dragged on his belly back the way he had came into the cavern. Magi stumbled momentarily as his fingers grabbed only air, then he righted himself as Ravendor and Warren ran past him and joined the chase.

Painful bumps of jagged stones and knobs of reaching roots poked and prodded Darren as he was mercilessly dragged against them. He cried out in pain and fear as he was roughly manhandled backwards toward a point unknown, but he had a pretty good idea where it lay and that idea made him want to scream even more.

A length of tree root partially sticking out of the ground like an elongated letter ‘n' or a right triangle caught his attention as he skidded by. Thinking quickly he threw his weight and arms out to grab at it, catching it with only one hand but for now that was enough. He stopped moving.

But that didn't mean the tentacle was going to give up. The scrapes and soon-to-be bruises all down his front welcomed a new painful sensation – a low, raw pulling sensation as his leg was slowly and persistently being dragged out of its socket. Though it appeared thin and flimsy the green thing was strong.

Tears began to form in the corner of Darren's eyes as his fingers began to slip, a weak, keening groan of exertion slipping from his throat as he tried to hang on. Please don't let it get me, he prayed to any gods who would listen, I don't want to die like this! I don't want to die ever! Noooooo…

He could hear the footsteps of his friends catching up with him and hoped desperately that he could hold on in time. Even as he thought that, two of his fingers slipped away from the root; just as Magi rounded the corner with a gleaming knife drawn to separate him from the tentacle. "Darren!" He called curtly as he noticed how the young rogue had snagged himself. "Don't let go!"

That was easier said than done. Darren had the distinct feeling that if he survived this one of his legs was going to be permanently longer than the other, but if he survived he would take it. That'd be fine. It'd be all peachy keen!

He whimpered as he lost another finger and looked up at Magi and the quickly approaching Warren and Ravendor with fear bright in his eyes. "Help me…" He sobbed as Magi reached out for his wrist.

But when he grabbed for him again Darren was already gone, now being dragged and sometimes thrown at a speed in which the other three would be unable to match. Magi swore harshly as he rose again, but turned to Ravendor when he felt the other man put a hand on his shoulder. "There is no need to be hasty. We already know what has ensnared him." He said.

Magi was incredulous at how Ravendor could stand there so calmly and tell him to take it easy when they could both hear Darren's shrieks echoing further and further down the underground corridor. "Yes, I know, but it'll eat him if we don't do something quickly!" He snapped as Warren finally caught up to them, confused about the hold-up.

Ravendor took the curt response in stride but briefly touched his index and middle finger against the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. "I know you are not a fan of the sport, Magi, but have you ever observed Zagtakh fishing off the wharf in South Adratea? He baits his hook with chunks of crab meat to entice his prey to swallow the lure; hook and all. This is what the alraune is trying to do with us."

"You think the monster is using Darren as bait?" Magi ventured, raising an eyebrow.

"But what if you're wrong?" Warren asked, doubting the monster in question had enough intelligence for such a scheme.

"Then I suppose Darren is merely the entrée." Ravendor answered with a wry smile which was met with a look of horror from Warren and a why-the-hell-are-we-just-standing-around-here look from Magi. He sighed. "Look, I am not saying we should come back next Tuesday to pick up the bones, only that we should exercise some caution before running willy-nilly into the monster's lair. An old acquaintance of mine used to say that looking for a shortcut would lead you astray, and I find that as true now as it ever was."

Magi regarded him neutrally for a second, and then tore off down the tunnel again in pursuit of his friend.  "And sometimes you just talk too damn much!" He called back, drawing his other knife from the small pocket at his belt. It glimmered coolly in the growing darkness.

Warren also thought that Magi had the better idea. Whether it was a trap or not Darren's life was at stake, and that was the most important thing of all. (Even if Darren getting eaten would finally stop the confusion new migrants into Adratea had about them being related, or brothers or something. Warren had been called ‘Darren' enough times now for it to have gotten more than a little annoying.)

He unsheathed his two-handed sword from the scabbard at his back. It was almost too heavy for a normal man to use, but he'd gotten the hang of it after quite a bit of practice with Siro. "Magi's right." Warren said. "Er… about going on ahead. Sometimes you just have to rush in, you know? We'll be all right." And then he rushed off after his cloaked teammate.

Ravendor was left alone in the tunnel. He sighed again, his gut feeling telling him that they wouldn't be all right at all, and then followed the rest of his party with his gun at the ready.

"Wait! Wait for me!"

†††

Maybe one of the main reasons why they weren't so prepared for the fight ahead may have lain with Darren not being very good at describing what he saw earlier, underwhelming his friends and placing them off-guard. Darren would have said in his defense that he had run out of the cavern screaming, and if that wasn't a good enough descriptor then nothing was. Who knows? Maybe in the end they should have listened to Ravendor.

As they ran into the main chamber of the cavern the air seemed to change all around them, almost as if it had grown fresher; purer. The cave was the size of a small church and almost shaped like one too, the walls and ceiling held up by a massive, intricate series of tree roots buttressing the stones like ancient, fossilized veins. Some of the main roots were significantly wider than a man and must have been decades, if not centuries old. Ravendor opened the shutter on the lantern he was carrying to illuminate the area and he and his party held in a collective breath at the sight.

This place must have been the very heart of the Underwood. Vine plants grew in hectic sprawls here and there and at the far back of the cavern he could almost hear a faint trickling sound that might be running water. All of a sudden he felt thirsty, but there was no time to worry about that now. Darren had been dragged into the center of the cavern by multiple green tentacles; they rose into the air like dancing cobras and lifted their terrified bait up with them, before a rise that almost seemed like an altar. Behind that, after the rise there was… no back wall. Nothing.

Instead there lay a tangled bramble of hundreds of vines, so thick and numerous that they resembled a ball of yarn that a curious housecat might have played with for a little too long. It was no less than a jungle back there.

Darren swung captured from three or four of those vines right now, like the hanged man from that deck of cards BW liked to play with so often in order to predict the future, as she called it. He had been lifted several feet into the air and turned upside down, swinging from his ankle, while his arms and coattails swung down towards the floor and his rapidly reddening face from all the blood heading to his brain showing all signs of worry and fear. He had finally lost his hat as well and it was now lying on the ground beneath him, forgotten.

The three men had all been ready to burst into the lair of the alraune and take on whatever challenges that lay for them inside, but in taking in this new area and their comrade before them they paused. That was probably one of the first mistakes they made. Darren's breathing was shallow and harsh, full of the soft gasps and spluttering of the truly afraid.  "Guys please…" He begged weakly. "Get me down from here…"

"Oh wow…" Warren said. There were so many vines here that there was no doubt as to what this could be – an alraune nest of some sort. After a moment of wonder he settled back to the task at hand and became determined, focusing on Darren as he raised his sword. "Don't worry; I'll have you down in a second." He promised.

He started out towards the middle of the chamber, leaving Magi and Ravendor behind them briefly until they realized they were being left behind and hurried to catch up with him. From his upside-down vantage point Darren was relieved to see his friends approaching him, until…

A vine darted up towards him, close to Darren's face like a charmed snake. It seemed to regard him silently for a second, and then slid itself up around his throat, noosing itself and pulling tight.

The rogue choked.

His arms that had been hanging limply over his head came back to life. One shot up to his throat to grapple and grasp at the vine cutting off most of his oxygen supply, while the other was thrown out straight ahead of his approaching allies, gesturing frantically for them to stop, stop before he choked to death. There was no telling how Darren had managed to link the strangulation with the approach of his friends so quickly, but at least in that he was correct. When Warren and the others stopped dead in their tracks the vine loosened and he could breathe again.

This was a nasty stalemate. They couldn't reach him to cut him free and if they tried the vines would simply wring his neck. Warren looked back at the other two as if searching for help. "So, uh, what now?" He asked.

Darren let out a weaker, softer cry like a frightened animal as the spare vines restraining his body seemed to grow bored with merely holding him and began to move, lazily at first, but then almost with interest as the little tendrils brushed themselves over all the scrapes and scratches he had accumulated while being dragged through the tunnel. His shirt was already slipping down enough due to gravity to reveal his kind of skinny stomach and a bit of his chest, bleeding slightly in places from where the skin had torn. The movement of the vines stung and felt weird; he didn't like it at all. "T-The alraune…" He stammered in a raw voice, but found he could not continue.

So focused they had been on Darren that they had almost forgotten they were not alone in this monster's lair. Magi grabbed the kerosene lantern from Ravendor and tried to scan the back of the chamber with it, through that messy chaotic bramble of tangled-up vines. If Darren was right there would be an anomaly in those thin, creeping shapes, something that was not so much a mass of vines than a vaguely human form…

Magi felt Warren step back against him and brush the side of his arm against Magi's shoulder as he searched. It might have been, it might be… there!

The alraune. She could have been kneeling on the altar of the cathedral-cavern in some kind of monstrous prayer had she any legs to kneel on. The top half of her body was mostly human in shape, mostly, but from the join in her legs and downwards everything fell apart into the wriggling, writhing mass of vines that made up the back wall and reinforced the cavern. It was like she was part octopus – part plant-octopus, anyway. I don't believe it, Magi remarked silently to himself, the monster isn't just living in this part of the cavern; she is the cavern!

Thinner, more dexterous vines seemed to sprout backwards from her green forearms, and if Magi had the time to trace them all the way to their end he would have found the source of what was restraining and tormenting Darren. She was well endowed just like Darren had said, reminding Magi a little bit of Mieus; the barmaid who ran the Adratea Guildhouse. Ravendor and Warren were actually thinking the very same thing, but like Magi they also kept it to themselves. Were she a human being like the rest of them she would have been beautiful. Instead, like this, there was no question that she was merely a monster; no different from an animal.

When Darren spoke the alraune opened her eyes and stood, or more accurately raised herself upward on her tentacles. Magi sheathed his daggers and went for his bow, setting the blazing lantern down on the slightly uneven floor. The young hunter spoke to Darren slowly, so as not to agitate the creature behind him. "Just stay calm, Darren. We'll get you down." Magi paused for a moment then added; "Somehow."

"Oh for goodness sake." Ravendor griped at everybody in the chamber and half turned to the right, raising his gun. If the other two were useless or clueless then he'd just have to free Darren on his own. He fired four times, nearly depleting the six gun, the individual booming echoes sounding so close together that they almost became one loud, dull thunderclap in the low light. He'd double-tapped twice, almost bafflingly fast, and all four of the vines holding Darren up snapped in two.

The first two shots took out the vines holding his throat and midsection, and the final two destroyed the bindings around his ankle and the one spiraled up around the rogue's leg. Darren was fortunate. If Ravendor had aimed in a different sequence he would have fallen with the ropes still around his neck – already drawn kind of tight the alraune would have hanged him.

Instead he face-planted painfully onto the ground with the dead, bleeding vine-like ropes still attached to him. Darren shrieked and sat up quickly, ripping the now loose bonds away. They were cold and oozing thick green fluid, like a plant, like a…

Ravendor lowered the gun after hearing Darren shriek. "Blast, did I wing him? I can barely see in this darkness. Is he okay?"

"Hey, are you okay?" Warren called.

Darren looked up at his teammates as he pulled the organic noose from his neck. Suddenly he realized that if Ravendor had done a worse job at aiming he might not be there right now. Had the older man hit him? Was he still alive? The rogue took half a second for himself to check for injuries. Well, his head and front hurt like hell from the fall and being dragged and his throat stung terribly from the vines, but that was all. "I-I'm fuh-fine…" He rasped back to Warren in a dry, harsh voice, rising unsteadily to his feet.

Then he remembered the monster behind him. Darren whirled around quickly, almost too quickly as he nearly lost his balance and fell to the floor again.

Magi had been watching it while Ravendor and Warren were preoccupied with Darren. He was fascinated by it, really. When the shots had severed the vines from Darren's body the alraune had recoiled as if she had been shot herself, the monster collapsing against her own vines; mossy hair fanning out behind her as if somebody had just sliced her fingers off – and that wasn't very far from the truth. Her mouth was frozen in a little ‘o' of agony, but it looked like she could not scream. Maybe she didn't have any vocal chords to scream with.

The cut, bleeding lengths of vine still attached to the creature whipped about violently, momentarily, until the alraune seemed to gather her bearings and withdrew them backward into relative safety. Magi fit a bone-tipped arrow against the drawstring of his bow. Suddenly he had a feeling that something horrible was about to happen, regardless of the apparent innocence or vulnerability of the creature before them. He didn't particularly want to put an arrow into the alraune, but he might not have a choice in the matter.

Maybe he was just a sucker for a pretty face.

That pretty face's expression darkened considerably in anger as she recovered from the injury. She stood as Darren whirled around then vines from all directions, from behind her, from the ceiling and the walls ripped out of their places and lunged for the hunting party in rage. They came from seemingly all directions so it was impossible to run away; impossible to retreat. They attacked by catching and ensnaring, by pulling, by beating, and by lifting one high into the air and by bashing them hard against any available surface. It was a crude method of attack, but effective. There were simply too many tentacles for them to resist.

Magi's first and only shot in reaction to half a dozen vines lunging for him was a hit, but his arrows lacked the explosive power of Ravendor's bullets and the arrow simply twanged halfway through one of the reaching tendrils, piercing it easily but not slowing it down. Magi's eyes widened when he realized that his main method of attack was almost useless on this foe, and he dropped his bow more out of necessity than surprise as the vines reached out and grabbed him by the arms, the legs; the everything.

One vine gripped his right hand - a major annoyance as Magi favored it over the other. He pulled his dagger out quickly on his left side and slashed blindly at the enemy all around him. The knife was unbearably sharp, with an edge that Trina the weapon-smith had forged to absolute perfection and that Magi had maintained with the whetstone. When it sliced it glided through flesh like silk without discrimination. Chlorophyllic blood flew and the young archer's legs were free once more.

Darren had been captured and throttled once by the dangerous beauty and he wasn't that willing to have it happen to him a second time. All that mattered to him now was the location of the exit, and getting there dwarfed everything else in comparison. He ran. In doing so he accidentally kicked over the lantern Magi had placed so carefully on the ground, spilling its contents. Without its fuel supply the little flame didn't quite go out immediately, but it would go out soon enough.

As for Warren, he was already having the time of his life. His heavy two-handed blade flashed unceasingly in the gradually increasing darkness, cutting down tentacles as soon as they got close like wheat before the scythe; clean, complete and thorough. The vines could barely touch him; the range of his vengeful blade was just too wide. One tentacle seemed to worm its way up from beneath him and grabbed him by the leg, pulling him off balance and attempting to trip him up so he would be prone and vulnerable, like Darren had been.

Warren would have fallen had Ravendor not been nearby and braced his friend's shoulder, then used his last bullet to take out the offending vine. The end of his gun barrel was smoking by this point and the swordsman steadied himself, kicking the dead length of plant away. "Thanks." He said quickly as he got back into a defensive position.

"Are you capable of covering me for a few seconds?" The dark-haired man asked him as he sidestepped to stand behind Warren. He half cocked the hammer of the revolver in his hands as he spoke.

"What? Why?" Warren asked.

"It takes time to reload." He replied with exasperation, as if this were common knowledge to anyone regardless of if they understood firearms or not. He fished in the pocket of his coat momentarily for fresh bullets, not waiting for Warren's answer before getting back to business. If his weapon didn't work he was toast anyway, regardless if Warren chose to defend him or not.

But the swordsman was happy to help. If it meant that he'd be able to blow a few more of those vines away then he was all for it. One of those vines came at them now and he cut it down to size; the pruned piece of flora collapsing bleeding into the ground alongside the tinkling of empty casings. Another came from behind him and this time Warren grabbed it with his bare hands, or at least one of them, winding it around his wrist of his own volition and then yanking savagely, the limb tearing with a deceptively meaty sound.

Blood fell, but he tried to avoid it. There was no telling what monster blood could do to you if it made contact with the skin. "Are you nearly done?" Warren shouted as he intercepted another tentacle, cleaving it with growing skill but also diminishing energy. This was tiring him out.

"Almost… there!" Ravendor responded as he loaded the last few new shells and snapped his weapon closed again. He was happy that he had managed to get through that unmolested, though that didn't last very long. A thick, strong vine seemingly came out of nowhere and whipped him harshly across the back and shoulder, forcing the man to utter a breathless "Augh!" before staggering to his knees.

Through that haze of sudden pain he could hear Magi shouting at all of them to retreat, to run the hell out of the cavern because this fight was going nowhere fast and they were being overwhelmed. Darren had already fled, and Warren helped Ravendor up while thinking that maybe running away might not be such a bad idea after all. If the alraune was part of this cavern then she wouldn't follow them.

… Hopefully.

"Everybody run! Get out of here!" Magi called again as his hands slick with the monster's blood strived to maintain a competent hold on his knife. His arm felt sore all the way to the socket and their one last light, the bleeding lantern, was going out. He wasn't their leader, and rarely did Magi attempt to make decisions on behalf of the entire team, but on this he was certain he had to act. He was familiar with people; if one dissenting voice cried an order in the absence of leadership it was always obeyed.

Tentacles bound Magi's body again. The alraune seemed to be making the hunter its main target now that Darren had run out of her reach. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because he seemed the most vulnerable, and Magi gasped as the grasping tentacles squeezed nearly all of the air out of his lungs, pinning his arms against his sides. So much for fighting back now.

"Magi!" That voice sounded like Warren.

The young hunter felt himself being lifted; felt his boots no longer touching the earth. He didn't think to look at the alraune again. One of his last thoughts before the creature raised him up and bashed his head savagely against the edge of the altar wasn't something selfless, or something heroic. Rarely is that so. Instead, it was;

If she does try to eat me… I hope to the gods she kills me first.

The sharp, painful impact removed him from the waking world.

"Magi!" This time it was Ravendor's turn to call his name. He started forth from Warren's side, as if to run at the many tentacles binding his friend, but he only managed a step or two before he realized that the swordsman had grabbed him firmly by the elbow. He tried to shake free from Warren's grip. "Let me go, damn you!"

Warren seemed grim. "Didn't you hear him? He has a point. We have to get out of here before we run out of light or we'll lose our bearings!"

Ravendor tugged again, harder this time. He was furious. "Bugger your bearings! I'll not hand Magi over to that beast!" He roared.

But Warren had a pretty good grip on him and Ravendor would never have been able to get free even on a good day and in perfect sunlight. The doctor was conflicted, of course he wanted to run with him and save Magi too, but when it came to the dungeon he was strictly a pragmatist. Pragmatists tended to survive longer. They'd be no good to Magi if they got captured as well, and in the darkness…

They would be more than easy prey. They'd be dinner served up on a silver platter. He started to drag the older man back to the entrance, trying his best to keep an eye out for any stray vines that might try to stop them. Now that she actually had a prize; a trophy to call her own the alraune seemed to lose most of her interest in them. Warren could see her faintly dark outline lift up the outline of Magi triumphantly, and with his imagination he could picture his unconscious face, the blood from the head wound pouring down his temple; everything.

He would regret this. He knew it.

"It's fine! It's fine! We'll come back for him! I promise!" He shouted.

"No! Damn it, let go of me! Magi!"

And then the lights went out.