Andie charged at the chain of ragged obsidian spikes tearing toward her. Its edges were far from clean, covered in craggy skewers that branched off it – most set at just a slightly different angle from the main spear-like point of the pillars. She grabbed the first spike to jut out within arms reach and rode it up into the air. The violent obsidian bug into her hands, but Andie held tight regardless. As soon as the jagged obsidian pillar reached a suitable height, she pivoted herself to face the nightmare and launched herself toward the monster. “Blaze a path, my Courage!” She leapt between spikes and burning footholds her powers had left hanging in the air, ignoring the cuts on her feet from the serrated edges that tore through her shoes.
The pain would pass. It was temporary. Death was not. If she put in anything less than 100% people would die. Her friends would die. Her friends would die because of choices she made. Not because she failed to save them, but because she made a conscious decision to lead them into danger.
Andie’s resolve was unshakable and her focus unwavering – until a sudden pain surged through her right ankle.
The largest and sharpest skewers that protruded from the obsidian pillars had shot out without warning. It had impaled her by the leg and tripped her up, sending her toppling over into two of the smaller spikes.
She hit the first one from the side, tearing through her left arm. The second one hit her head on, impaling her through the stomach.
Andie gripped the spike reamed through her torso with her uninjured arm, letting its barbed edges dig into the palm of her hand for a better grip. Her first attempt at pushing herself up off the spike went well, until she was caught off guard by one of the rare downward facing skewers hooking into her. The surprise stole away her momentum, startling her into sliding back down onto the spike – this time pushed even deeper than before.
The pain was indescribable, drowning out all thought. But Andie wasn’t ready to give up yet. With a second push and a the kind of fleshy tearing noise that pulled your lunch up into your throat, she managed to lift herself off the jagged pillar. She dug her feet into the side of the obsidian that had pierced her and tried to reorient herself.
But Andie had held on as long as she could.
A note from the
Good freaking gods, describing these blasted obsidian spikes was a little slice of my own personal hell…
I now posses an irrational hatred for obsidian and craggy spikes.