To call it a weapon was an insult to weapons everywhere. But it would do. More importantly, it was the only thing she had.
"Are you sure you saw her pick up an exit pass? There's not much time left if you're wrong," the smaller of the drone's pointed out.
Ah ha. Elena had been right about the coin's ability to get her out of here.
The demon exposed an incisor. "Best to make sure. Either way, the welp will make a tasty snack."
How lovely. They were planning to eat her.
Elena eyed the trio, trying not to let their size difference intimidate her. As Auntie would say, it wasn't the size of your weapon. It was how you used it. Any sharpened object would do in a pinch if applied in the proper fashion.
Her bone pick included.
Uncle Jin would follow up by pointing out that all monsters had a weakness. Eyes and throats for starters.
It was just too bad her opponents' greater height meant her targets were so far off the ground. She was pretty sure any attempt to pounce would result in being snatched out of the air before she could do any damage.
Maybe if she scaled their bodies like a tree? It always worked for Aunt Kira.
"Grab her," the demon ordered.
That was her cue. Elena broke left before spinning back to her right and slipping through the tiny opening her feint had created.
But not before she buried her bone pick in the side of the demon's leg.
His scream made a bloodthirsty smile form on Elena's face.
Good luck chasing her now.
She yanked the weapon out of his leg, drawing another pained sound from him as blood spurted. Then she was up, surging past him with as much speed as she could.
The wall the general boy had strode through beckoned, calling her name and promising safety she wasn't sure existed on this world. The fact the demon had referred to the coin she held as an exit pass gave her hope that at the very least, she could escape this pit.
If she was wrong—well, she'd be trapped and likely dead soon after.
Elena preferred to think positive. Auntie said a person's thoughts helped shaped their existence. It didn't matter how beautiful your surroundings or how blessed your life if all you saw was darkness.
It was why Elena embraced a mindset of eternal optimism. Things would always work out. One way or another. Crappy circumstances were always temporary. She could let them drown her. Rue the fate that had been set before her. Or she could persevere. Cling to the good around her and use it as leverage when the chance to change her situation finally presented itself.
It's what Aunt Kira would have done. Though maybe not as positively as Elena, considering Auntie was a bit of a grump.
Howls lifted into the air behind her. The sound primal, spurring Elena to move her legs faster.
Sorry, friend. Not today. Elena had a future to preserve.
"Stop her!"
There was a whistle as something cut through the air. A second later Elena's feet were swiped out from under her. She hit the ground with a muffled cry, barely noticing the pain along her left side as she twisted to glare at her feet.
Was that seriously a bolas they'd thrown at her?
The rope attached to a pair of rocks wrapped around her legs would suggest yes. It seemed a little low tech for a race that had nearly wiped out humanity, but okay.
The drones slowed. Their faces smug, thinking Elena was caught.
As scary as they were, it was the demon hobbling in their wake that truly struck fear into Elena’s heart. Something told her if he got a hold of her, forget the mercy of a quick death. He'd make it as painful as possible before sending her to her final rest.
Elena gave up the thought of undoing the bolas, knowing she didn't have time for that. They'd be on her before she could get even one foot free.
She flipped onto her stomach, using her bound legs to push herself forward as she clawed her way across the few feet separating her from the wall.
Please let this work.
"Stop her!" the demon screamed.
The drones, realizing their prey was getting away, dashed forward.
"Too late, suckers," Elena crowed, giving up on her army crawl and instead choosing to roll like an overstuffed burrito.
As the old proverb stated—if one could not run, make like an inchworm and squirm your way to victory.
Okay, no one said that, but after today, Elena was thinking they should.
In one last desperate bid, Elena lunged forward, falling through the wall and out the other side. She rolled, fetching to a stop in front of a pair of black, shiny boots.
The general from that first day looked down at Elena with an apathetic expression, greeting her arrival as just another event in a series of them.