chance

The wall exploded inward with a thunderous crash, sending shards of stone and dust flying like shrapnel. Hope barely had time to react, his instincts kicking in as he dove to the side, shielding his face from the debris.

But this was his chance.

The fiend's hulking form lurched through the collapsing wall, momentarily off balance from the force of its own attack. Its grotesque limbs flailed, jagged claws slicing through the air as it tried to steady itself. For the first time since this nightmare began, the creature looked vulnerable.

Hope didn't hesitate.

Grabbing a jagged piece of broken rebar from the rubble, he lunged forward, driving it toward the fiend's exposed side with every ounce of strength he had left. The metal bit into the creature's flesh, eliciting a guttural, ear-splitting screech that reverberated through the ruins.

But that was all it did—a scratch.

The fiend barely flinched.

Its head snapped toward him, those hollow, abyssal eyes locking onto his. The twisted grin that spread across its face made his blood run cold.

Shit.

Before he could pull back, the fiend lashed out with terrifying speed, its clawed hand slicing through the air. Hope barely managed to throw himself backward, the claws grazing his side and tearing through his jacket like paper. Pain flared along his ribs, sharp and burning, but he couldn't afford to slow down.

He scrambled to his feet, heart pounding in his chest as he bolted for the nearest exit.

But The Ashlands weren't giving him an easy out.

As he rounded the corner, he skidded to a halt, his breath catching in his throat. The path ahead was blocked—collapsed stone, twisted metal, and rubble sealing off any chance of escape.

No. No, no, no!

Panic clawed at his mind, but he forced it down, his eyes darting around for another way out. But there wasn't one. The walls were too steep, the gaps too narrow. He was boxed in.

Behind him, the fiend's heavy footsteps echoed closer, each one sending vibrations through the floor beneath his feet. It was toying with him now, savoring the hunt.

Hope pressed his back against the cold stone, his chest heaving as the fiend's shadow stretched across the wall beside him. There was nowhere left to run.

And for the first time in a long time, Hope felt something he hadn't let himself feel since the outskirts.

Hopeless.

The corrupted fiend crept closer, its grotesque form looming over Hope. Red eyes glowed like smoldering embers in its twisted skull, its jagged teeth bared in a hungry grin. Thick strands of drool dripped from its maw, sizzling as they hit the ground.

Hope pressed himself against the wall, barely daring to breathe. His pulse thundered in his ears, his body frozen—not out of fear, but because there was nowhere to go.

The fiend's claws twitched, rising slowly, wickedly sharp and glinting in the dim light. It was savoring the moment, drawing out the inevitable.

Then it struck.

A blur of motion. A deafening crash.

Something—someone—collided into the fiend with bone-shattering force, sending the creature flying sideways into the ruins. The impact shook the ground, stone crumbling under the weight of the monstrous body.

Dust and debris choked the air, but Hope barely noticed. His wide eyes locked onto the figure that had just saved him.

Another contestant.

Hope swallowed down his unease, keeping his expression neutral even as his mind screamed at him to stay wary. The armored figure's presence unsettled him—no one offered help without expecting something in return.

But this wasn't the time to figure out his motives.

Behind them, the corrupted fiend stirred, its twisted body shifting as it pushed itself off the ground. The force of the armored man's attack had done some damage, but not nearly enough to keep it down for long.

The stranger turned his head slightly, voice steady.

"Run. Unless you want to get caught in this fight."

Hope didn't need to be told twice.

He spun on his heel and sprinted away without another word, his instincts screaming at him to put as much distance between himself and that battle as possible.

Behind him, he heard the heavy clang of steel as the armored man raised his sword, stepping forward to face the fiend.

Whatever his agenda was, Hope wasn't about to stick around to find out.