by Stead, Nick
Even with my greater strength, I began to feel the burn in my arms as I climbed ever higher, aching in perfect harmony to the throbbing of my hands and feet. Only the power of the hunger and sheer willpower kept me moving steadily upwards, slowly but surely, until eventually the gory treasure was within my grasp. My arm was shaking from the strain as I reached out to take my prize. I gripped the chain tighter with my other hand, teeth gritted against the pain as the metal fangs bit deeper still.
My fingers stretched towards the meat. They brushed its slimy surface and I snarled in frustration. Just a little further…
My arm felt like it was going to crawl right out of my socket if I stretched it any more. The chain swayed towards it and my fingers closed on the muscle.
“Yes!”
I pulled it free and let it fall to the ground. It landed with a meaty thud, cushioning the spikes below. I considered jumping after it, desperate to tear into the raw flesh now. But it was too risky. What if I misjudged my landing and fell on more of the spikes? There was nothing for it but to suffer an equally painful descent down the chain.
I reached the bottom and placed my feet as carefully as I could before letting go. Then I tore into my prize.
It might not have been the still warm meat of a fresh kill I’d come to crave, but it tasted divine as I gulped it down. I felt like I’d truly earned this meal after literally paying for it in blood and sweat, and it was all the tastier for it.
Down went the last bite, and still I hungered for more. Had the effort really been worth it? I tried to tell myself I hadn’t just endured the extra suffering for nothing, that it would still grant me a small boost after the cost of the energy I would have to spend healing the damage. But I wasn’t really convinced.
I reached the second chain I’d intended to climb. My gaze rose up the length of the metal, bringing fresh doubt. An angry growl from my stomach settled the inner battle. Whether it was worth it or not, I was powerless to resist the temptation hanging over me.
It was another difficult climb for little reward, and my stomach only roared with more dissatisfaction afterwards. So it was I crossed over to the final chain and wrapped my hands round the metal teeth a third time.
A fresh stab of pain shot through the flesh and more bloody tears ran across my skin in response to that cruel greeting. The burn in my arms only ached greater still as I pulled myself up, the muscles complaining at having to endure yet more physical exertion. I felt like I was reaching my limits again and by that point I just wanted it to be over. I forgot my earlier caution and ascended as quickly as my exhausted, wounded flesh could manage, eager to grab my final prize and escape that room of agony.
I drew level with the third chunk of meat and reached out a final time for this one last prize I’d set my sights on. But in my rush to get it over with, my fingers started to slip down those metal thorns. My grip was weakening and even with the help of the spikes, the inside of my hands were just too slimy with blood and perspiration. The cruel points embedded in my skin slid upwards as I began to fall, and with a roar that was equal parts pain and frustration, I made one last desperate move to claim my reward, determined not to fall down empty handed.
I threw myself forward before my grip went completely, grabbing onto the chunk of meat hanging from its hook and dangling there, panting and shaking. The chain I’d climbed up swung wildly, whipping my bare skin as if it had gained a life of its own, and the desire to punish me for disturbing it.
Its teeth raked across my body, leaving bloody rivulets in its wake. There was little I could do to avoid it in the struggle to keep from falling and several cuts opened up on my legs. But somehow I managed to escape any injury to my manhood, for which I thanked God, or the Devil, or whatever being of power a werewolf should pray to. That particular torment might have been my undoing.
The new life the chain had been given eventually began to die down. It grew calmer, and through gritted teeth I readied myself to swing back over, the ache in my arms fast becoming unbearable. Falling was not an option now I hung from the chain with the meat, not with the pit of longer spikes directly below. Landing on the smaller spikes would be painful enough, but these ones were likely to do considerable damage, which definitely would make my efforts to get the meat pointless. And it was an experience I could really do without, after all the torment the room had shown me already.
Hand shaking with exhaustion, I reached out to take hold of the other chain once more. But to my dismay, the chunk of meat began to rip, the hook it was hanging from not driven deep enough into the flesh for it to take my added weight. My fingers closed on empty air as the sudden, unexpected movement jolted me, my body dipping downwards slightly. I had a matter of seconds to transfer my body weight back over to the first chain, and in another desperate bid to stay up there, I threw myself at it again. This time I successfully managed to grab it, but the meat ripped free of the hook and came loose in my other hand before I could get a good enough grip. The metal was slipping through my hands again, faster than before, the spikes tearing my palms and my fingers to shreds. I was falling, and all I could do was scream.
Fortunately that fall wasn’t as far as when I’d originally entered the room from the trapdoor. I was spared the agony of more broken bones, apart from where they were damaged by the spikes. I landed in a crouched position as before, but the metal teeth on the ground drove new holes into my flesh and bone, forcing another roar of agony and rage from deep within my chest.
My right hand was already shredded from where the spiked chain had gouged it on the way down, strips of skin, muscle and sinew hanging like bloody rags. I’d instinctively placed it on the ground when I’d landed to steady myself and keep my balance, driving the floor spikes right through what was left. Holes had opened up like the ones in my feet, the hand all but ruined.
The other one had been spared any further damage, since I’d kept hold of the meat on the way down. And one other small blessing – I had landed on the level part of the ground, rather than in the pit with the longer spikes.
With the added damage to my feet, I doubted whether I’d make it the rest of the way to the door, as close as I now was. Ideally I’d have preferred to wait to heal my wounds until I’d made it clear of the spikes, but it looked like I might have to use my power just to allow me to cross the rest of the chamber. First I would eat my hard won prize though.
Ignoring the steady throb of my injuries, I tore into the chunk of meat and savoured it as best I could. I definitely wasn’t convinced it had been worth the added cost of my blood for this final piece, and it still wasn’t enough to satisfy the ache in my belly. But it might be the last taste of fresh meat the Slayers would grant me in this accursed place, so I tried to enjoy it.
My meagre meal finished, I attempted to rise back onto two legs, only to be proved right – my feet would no longer take my weight. There was nothing for it; I’d have to allow the ruined flesh to start changing until the wounds closed up and the skin knitted back together, flawless and unmarked once again – the parts of it that weren’t currently impaled by the spikes, at least. I needed to do it with as little energy as possible though, so I was careful to focus on the damaged areas.
I’d long since learnt to heal myself without any visible changes, unless my wounds were really severe and required a full shapeshift to repair, but this damage was extensive enough that my extremities would have to become somewhat lupine and paw-like to fix. So I concentrated on that throbbing mess of raw flesh and shattered bones, willing it to shift and become whole again as it took its new shape. New pain immediately spread through my feet as the changes began, muscle and sinew turned to something fluid, flowing together until it was whole once more. A few of my toes had all but been severed by the spikes, hanging on to the rest of my feet by the barest of gruesome threads. But that torn flesh and fractured bone reattached itself as if an invisible surgeon had sewn them back together, the steady throb easing until only the usual pain of the transformati
on remained. Not all the damage could be healed though. Try as my flesh might to repair all the rips and tears, there was no closing those holes with the metal still stabbing through them.
My ruined hand was easier to repair. Once my feet were in good enough shape to take my weight, I tried again to rise back up to two legs and successfully made it. And with the flesh clear of the spikes, it was free to roll across the holes until muscle and sinew joined once more and damaged bones became whole again. Skin stretched across and hid the inner workings of my body, leaving no trace of the grisly wounds.
My other hand I left punctured but in good enough shape for the time being, not wanting to waste more energy than I had to. I severed the flow of power and flexed my fingers to confirm they were in working order. Then I turned my attention back to the last stretch of floor between me and the exit.
I resumed my slow and steady pace, determined not to suffer any more unnecessary damage. Carefully I lifted one foot and placed it down so that the spikes went through the existing holes, then lifted the other foot and repeated the motion. My skin was still furless, my hand and feet mostly humanoid, with just the smallest hints of my inner beast waiting to break free.
Nails had lengthened and become claws, and pads had started to form on both the soles of my feet and the palm of my right hand. The bones had begun to elongate and take a more lupine shape designed for walking on all fours, but not enough to hinder my movement on two legs. I could cope with the small changes without needing to expend more energy to reverse them.
Finally I reached the door, and at first it seemed David was actually granting me a shred of mercy when the panel began to slide upwards, without me having to suffer further torment while I tried to find some hidden mechanism to work it. But the cruel truth didn’t take long to break through the falseness of that apparent kindness.
The panel ground to a halt at waist height, revealing a crawl space lined with yet more spikes. A growl of displeasure escaped my throat as I took this in, realising I would have to suffer one last torment before I could leave that torture chamber behind me.
Crawling through on hands and knees was possible, but it would do a lot of damage to my lower legs which would mean greater pain to endure. And I’d be vulnerable when I reached the other end, until I’d had chance to heal again. For all I knew, there could be worse waiting for me in the next room, and if I was walking into another fight, I wanted to be in as good a shape as possible. That left me with one other option, which was probably what David had intended. I hated playing into his fantasies but it felt like I had little choice, if I wanted to clear the spikes with as little damage to my body as possible. So I reluctantly accepted this latest role he’d assigned me, willing the transformation to resume and make me lupine once more. The time for my full wolf form had come again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Battle of Tooth and Claw
That familiar surge of power came on a tidal wave of pain. My flesh bent to my will, tissue growing and changing at a rate not possible for any mortal creature.
Blood boiled in my veins, sending fresh sweat trickling down my filthy skin. The air around me felt like it had turned to a prickly, uncomfortable warmth, as if I were surrounded by a bubble of hot air. Then the itching of fur sprouting took my discomfort to a new level. Coupled with the deep ache of bones and the stab of my guts shifting, it was almost enough to drown out the throb of the metal piercing my flesh.
I sank to all fours, crouching on the balls of my feet and the tips of my splayed fingers, trying my best to mitigate the damage of the spikes through the transformation. At least I had the benefit of being in control of the change, rather than at the mercy of the forced transformation induced by the full moon. I was able to guide it so that I could continue to place my hands and feet as carefully as possible to prevent creating too many different wounds on the spikes. If I failed to keep aligning them it wouldn’t be too disastrous whilst my flesh was still shifting, as it would simply close up again as part of the change. But I was aware that would probably take up more energy – more than I had to spare.
Focusing on my feet first, I let the lengthening of my bones resume and my pads fully form until they became paws, the flesh shifting around the spikes. It felt worse with the added discomfort of those metal points, and it took all my willpower to retain control and keep to a careful pace. But somehow I managed, despite my growing desperation to just get it over with and cross the final stretch.
I let the change continue from my newly formed back paws up to my legs, shifting position so I rose from a crouch to standing on all fours as the bones altered. Then I turned my attention to my mostly human hands.
The tips of the spikes pricked my palms but otherwise I’d managed to splay my fingers around the metal points, keeping my weight off them and avoiding impaling myself again. There was no way I could walk like that without injuring myself though, my digits too weak to take my weight for long whilst they remained humanoid. So I raised my right hand and let the transformation continue until that also became a paw, placing it back down with gritted teeth.
A growl escaped my throat as the spikes stabbed through. I transferred my weight to that paw and lifted my other hand, repeating the same process. It took slightly longer for that left hand to change since it was still mostly human, the nails not even lengthened into claws at that point. But they soon turned from pink to black as the change took hold, seemingly necrotic and in danger of falling off. Then the flesh of my digits became unmistakably lupine and the dark claws looked at home once more.
The soft flesh of my palm hardened into the tougher pad of my wolf form, the skin and tissue knitting back together where it had been punctured from the climb up the spiked chains, only to be torn anew. Fresh crimson tears leaked out as I placed it down. At least I was standing on all fours as comfortably as possible in the circumstances, and I let the transformation alter the rest of my physiology without the need for any further guidance.
I forced myself to keep the change to a measured pace though. Until it completed, it would force me to shift my weight around some more as my skeletal structure continued to alter, so I needed to keep placing my paws carefully if I didn’t want the spikes stabbing through in too many different places. Technically it might have been possible to crawl through the narrow tunnel as I was, but I would be better equipped for a fight as a full wolf rather than some weird mix of human and canid.
My hybrid form I’d come to favour was one thing, utilising the main advantages of both the human and lupine side to my nature. But with a wolf’s legs and an otherwise mostly humanoid body, I would be clumsy in a fight. And I had to assume David would have created more enemies for me to battle, because to let my guard down could well be the death of me.
So I endured the pain of my spine altering, new bones forging at the base and pushing outwards into a tail, and the internal agony of my guts continuing to shift. I didn’t fight the discomfort of my face stretching outwards into a muzzle, or the ache of my teeth elongating into fangs, and the irritation in my gums where new teeth pushed through. Only the feeling of becoming more powerful made it bearable, and sometimes I had to wonder: if it weren’t for that greater power, would I embrace it at all?
Such power was short lived. The transformation completed and in its wake came another wave of weariness, and renewed hunger. My flesh craved energy to replenish all that had been spent over such a short period of time, and rest to recharge its batteries again. Even a werewolf has his limits, and rage and adrenaline could only take me so far. The cost of all I was being put through needed to be paid, yet food and rest were luxuries I couldn’t afford.
I fought the tiredness and pushed myself onwards. The spikes in the narrow tunnel were just visible to the greater night vision of my wolf form. There was no light within the tunnel itself but there was enough leaking through from either end to give my eyes something to work with.
My gaze fixed on the square of weak, flickering light up ahead. Somehow
the foul stench of the dungeon seemed stronger in the crawl space and I was given no real glimpse of what I was stalking towards, either by sight or smell. My sensitive ears did detect some clue in the form of the tell-tale sounds of life – the beating of a creature’s heart, an animalistic snort of breath, and the shuffling of movement. Beyond that, I was going in blind to whatever David had prepared for my next challenge.
At least he’d left the panel at the other end open for me. With it closed I may well have ended up in total blackness. My wounded paws throbbed to greater heights at the mere thought of having to manage the metal fangs without sight to guide me. It was slow going as it was, agonisingly so. The added challenge of no light would have taken the torture to a whole new level.
I did have to crouch slightly in the cramped space but at least I wasn’t having to crawl in wolf form. Trying to co-ordinate my four paws so that they aligned with the spikes was much harder than it had been on two feet, however. I felt like I was moving a lot slower than I had been with my human body, when all I really wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as I could. And all the while I was listening out for more sounds from the next chamber, trying to determine what lay ahead.
There was definitely something waiting for me, but it was impossible to tell what it was from sound alone. I didn’t even want to hazard a guess. After encountering more and more creatures of myth and legend, I knew it could be literally anything.
The sounds were animalistic, I was certain of that much. But that didn’t mean it was of the natural world. I could be slinking to a bloody end at the jaws of a predator far greater than I was, and yet, what choice did I have? The only way was forward.