Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Hanging On

I had to give Halkkor credit.  He was one tough son of a bitch.

I was hanging on to the edge of a cliff for dear life, everything below my chest dangling out above a sea of roiling lava.  And Halkkor was hanging on, if possible, even tighter to my ankles.  He was refusing to let go no matter how hard I kicked.  

He was also screaming at me.  At a point that seemed to indicate imminent demise for us both, he was screaming threats, oaths and epithets at me with his usual eloquent manner.  And that fucker refused to let go of me.  If I managed to hold on to the cliff for much longer, I expected his grip to eventually sever my feet at the ankles.  I grimly imagined him falling to a fiery death still clutching my bleeding feet in his hands.

"--and strip every inch of flesh from your bones one layer at a time," Halkkor continued dementedly.  I wasn't really listening to him.  I was too busy digging my fingernails into the rock and trying to find a solution to my I'm-about-to-die problem.

I couldn't teleport again--the King of Lucifer's Firstborn would still be clinging to my heels when I arrived in a safe location.  But I couldn't not teleport, because as far as I could tell, that was my only way out of this situation.  Despite the amplified strength in my devil's body, I wouldn't be able to crawl back on the ledge with Satan's Little Rhinoceros still attached.

"--meddling with one of the oldest, darkest sons of evil itself and you won't get away with it no matter how many times you try to kill me, you pompous little backstabbing bastard," Halkkor continued.  I felt a sharp pain in my left calf and realized that he was using his claws to climb up.

I had to find a way to get him to let go of me.  The only way I could think of was to go with the element of surprise.

So I let go.

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