hydra | svt

CHAPTER THIRTY.

wonwoo

the only thing in my field of vision is junhui's withering frame as i scale the stairs, narrowly avoiding the fingertips of death; hecate's attacks are as relentless as they were at the start and i wonder how much power she has to be able to keep the vines thrashing and screeching.

although pretty much every seat in the auditorium is occupied, the vines only scratch and lunge at us, simply slinking through the innocent civilians as if they were butter. i guess it's another one of hecate's freak magic tricks.

i'm thankful that we won't have to deal with the safety of the naive and continue to make my way up to the balcony. reaching the top of the stairs, i'd scarcely put my foot down when the whole staircase shakes violently and throws me over the side. i latch myself onto the brittle rail, dangling helplessly as i try and swing my body onto the gangway beside me - i dare not look down, grunting with effort and near exhaustion.

however, i'm not the only one struggling: hansol's sword had surprised hecate at first, leaving her vulnerable for a second before she'd analysed his pattern of attack and produced more grotesque plants in response, beating him down. i wince as i watch him tumble back towards the stage, slamming into it with a concerning thump. when he doesn't stir again, panic rises in my throat.

her cackle threatens the tears in my eyes to fall as i shake my head, sucking in a breath and swinging towards junhui with one last effort. the purple fog clears a little and a new determination fills me at the sight of my foot latched on the steel railing, a fighting sign that we had a chance.

junhui looks already dead as i manoeuvre myself onto the strong support the moment the staircase finally depletes into a cloud of dust. the noise attracts hecate's attention and her plants rear again.

"and what's this? a pitiful effort at saving your friend, i assume? tut tut, that won't do! junhui belongs to the electos decem now!" she screeches at an ungodly frequency and i resist the urge to take my hands of the railing and clamp them around my ears. more vines sprout from her manicured fingertips and pulse toward me in a threatening manner. cursing the goddess, i haul myself over and fall onto the cheap carpet of the balcony, rolling out of the way as a vine cracks in the air like a whip above me.

my breathing had quickly become ragged and i knew i didn't have much time left.

with hansol down for the count, minghao had stolen the bronze sword from his weakened grip and wielded it clumsily; his background in martial arts provided some defence on his part, but when a sly vine curls around his leg, suspended in a side kick, he falls and the sword clatters to the floor once again as he's dragged upwards, beating the thick tendrils with his bruising fists.

another wave of hopelessness crashes over my friends and i, wiping us out like a tsunami. still, i crawl over to junhui, contemplating how best to release him from his binds: i had nothing to cut him free with and even if i did, the tendrils looked so thick that only a diamond would even make a dent.

"junhui! it's me, wonwoo! if you can still hear me, i've come to rescue you. just hold on for me!" i cry, placing a warm hand on his shoulder, almost retracting it from the deathly cold that radiated from it.

i hate to admit it but i'm completely useless in this situation: no action film i've seen could prepare me for the danger ahead; all i can think to do is tug at the vines, becoming deflated with every pull as i realise exactly how thick they are. 

someone who'd at least have an inkling of what to do, would be kim mingyu.

whilst we'd been fighting for our lives in the auditorium, the leading actor had been busy behind the curtain, overturning boxes and scraps of wood in a search for something he could use as a weapon. luckily, the entire art classroom had relocated backstage to put the set together and so he found what he was looking for fairly quickly.