Tartaros

Daniel rose to his feet and stared at Yolanda. Light shone from her eyes and mouth. Her muscles pushed against the skin. The blood from her cuts sizzled again as Daniel stared at her arm. The three slashes he made were already replaced with tiny scars.

Her muscles continued to bulge out. "Daniel?" Her voice, weak and scared, quivered from her throat. "Are you there?"

He heard sudden cracks coming from her body and saw her legs bend forward. Bits of bone fell from her shattered knees and floated around her. He rushed at her, but when he made contact, an electric pain raced up his arm. He flew back to the opposite wall and crashed into the window, sending glass shrapnel across the floor. He watched her body curl and tighten into a ball.

Rathbone crawled through the broken glass and threw a bottle into the fray. It shattered before it hit her and the contents, whatever they were, swirled around with the bone fragments. Yolanda's blood crashed to the floor next and splashed into the whirling sphere in turn. Daniel couldn't move, couldn't even cry for terror. Panic paralyzed him as he looked on.

Yolanda's form obscured behind the thin veil of blood and bone, soon disappearing all together. When he could finally move, Daniel dragged himself across the floor, pangs of agony sliding through him with every bit of glass that cut his body. He reached up to the ball of blood and pushed his hand through. A beam of light shot out of the puncture and bounced around the walls. He fell back to the floor as more light washed over his body. The sphere broke apart and blood spattered around the room, filling up the carved runes with bright red.

Then everything went blank and Daniel felt nothing.