𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙙𝙖𝙮

16 | Me.

"It's 11:59," Jim announced and everyone glanced up from our bored-and notably exhausted- positions.

"Do you have weapons?" Mr. Giles asked and I nodded, gesturing to the pile of stakes and crossbows and the like in front of us teenagers.

"Do you think we'll need them?" Charles asked, his tone anxious.

"I hope not. But if we do, you follow my instructions. All of you," I replied and everyone nodded, not upset at all by my will to keep them alive.

"The book said that although it will stop passage it may allow for some things to travel in and out if pressured. But it shouldn't let the Master through, from everything we've read he's too big," Ellie spoke.

"That's fine. So long as I don't have to fight the Master, we should stay alive," I responded.

"God! This is the longest minute ever!" Casey complained and I shot her a shaky smile.

Because although it might have felt like that, a minute couldn't last forever.

At least not on this plane of existence.

"Midnight," Jim whispered and I drew in a deep breath.

You can do this, I thought to myself. You're the Slayer.

And Jim's watch must have been a few seconds early because a moment later the pentacle that had been carved into the ground began to glow an ominous red.

The six of us stared at it's light, transfixed by some otherworldly power.

Although that moment didn't last long; something giant that resembled an octopus' tentacle shooting out through the floor, though not making a hole.

So much for the Master being 'too big'- this thing was f*cking enormous.

It was bound by the spell still, but it managed to gain passage to the other side nonetheless.

"Get down!" I shouted, racing ahead to grab the rope from the weapons pile.

Tying a quick knot that I hoped would stay, I swung it around my head like a lasso, waiting for the right moment to swing.

"Hey! Octopus! Over here!" I called and it swung itself towards me, narrowly missing the top of Casey's head causing her to yelp.

I swung the rope forwards and it slid over the tentacle's tip, allowing me to tighten the slack and pull it closer towards me.

"Gotcha," I murmured as it wriggled in the makeshift lasso's grip.

Lunging forward, one hand still holding the rope, I reached for the large machete in front of me.

I slid the knife into the belt hook of my denim skirt, gripping the line with both hands again.

I needed to tie it somewhere so that I could get underneath to cut the tentacle where it's 'roots' were.

There, I thought, eyeing a hook in the ceiling that most likely held a chandelier once upon a time.

All I needed to do was get up there.

Leaping up onto the nearest bookshelf, I swung myself over the edge of the staircase so that I was closer to the ceiling.

There was another shelf almost directly underneath the ceiling's hook that I climbed with satisfactory ease, allowing me to swing across to one of the wooden beams that supported the glass ceiling.

It was risky; if I had stayed up there any longer my grip would have slacked and I'd have fallen to what likely would have been my death.

But I didn't.