Free The Deal by David Gallie

hand I could feel the power of
the gold ring work its way down my hand and connect with the
clever. Suddenly I felt like I had a fighting chance, albeit not a
big one.
    ‘ Please help me.’ The choked cry
came from the man on the table. I turned to face him and recognised
that he couldn't have been any older than twenty. Still a kid in my
eyes.
    ‘ There's no point. There is
nowhere for you to run to.’ I said, sounding more callous than I
had intended.
    ‘ I know, but you could at least
give me a fighting chance?’ He asked, pleading in his
voice.
    I looked down at the ragged wound where his
manhood had been and then at the blood soaked stump where he was
now missing a leg. I couldn't see how he was going to do any kind
of fighting at all.
    ‘ They grow back after a time and
then it starts all over again. Please, I'm not asking to go
back home I just want a chance to defend myself from those things.’
He said, his voice soaked with tears as he noticed me checking out
his wounds.
    I glanced towards the stairwell listening for
any footsteps or other noises that might signal someone was coming.
I already had the feeling that if Satan found out I was helping the
monk then I could very well end up worse off than the wretched soul
on the table. But the human side of me, the side that still
actually gave a shit about anything wanted to let the man
go.
    ‘ Please!’ He cried and it was then
I decided that it might be a good idea to let him go. Although one
part of me wanted him to at least survive the night, if there was
such a thing in Hell, but also he could very well be a handy
distraction.
    He screamed through gritted teeth
as I pulled each nail out until all his limbs were free. I
could feel a thick layer of sweat form on my forehead as I took a
step back and glanced over at the stairwell again. There was no way
all that noise had gone unnoticed, not in a place like this where
they actively sought out anything breathing to kill just for the
sport of it.
    I kept my eyes on the stairs as the wounded
man swung his good leg off the table and let the weight of his body
pull him to the floor. I turned just in time to see him crawling
towards the door and I couldn’t help but hope that his missing body
grew back quicker than he said they did or he wasn’t even going to
be much of a sport for the smaller winged demons.
    ‘ Thank you. I won’t forget this.’
He said, gasping as he clawed his way towards the door.
    ‘ Good luck.’ I thought, before
deciding it was time to head upwards.
     
    The stairwell was narrow, even for me, there
was only single lit torch every few feet making it hard to tell if
the shadows dancing on the moss covered walls belonged to me or
something more powerful.
    The air became more stagnant as I made my way
upwards and I figured by the overpowering aroma that I must have
been getting closer to an entrance. Sure enough, a few steps later
and the last of the torches illuminated yet another closed
door.
    Feeling claustrophobic by that point I
gratefully reached out to grab the handle and almost fell backwards
as the door was whipped open. For a few moments of silence I
couldn’t quite comprehend what I was looking at, and then it
suddenly dawned on me.
    I was staring straight into the
huge black eyes of the Grimoyle that trotted off with the freshly
cut leg of a human . I gripped the machete tight in
my hand as it too seemed to come to the same
realisation.
    Better make a move now Sammy
boy . I thought to myself as I saw its
mouth open, ready to scream.
    Without any further hesitation, I brought the blade of the machete down as hard
as I could on its head. There was no noise except a soft wet
explosion of blood as the razor sharp blade sliced down the centre
of its head like it was made of butter, leaving behind it a bloody
stump.
    I raised the blade again, wiping globules of
blood from my eyes, ready to finish the job. But just as I was able
to clear my vision I could see its now lifeless body