She thought she would die.
As the bitter, metallic taste of the demon flesh filled her mouth, Deyanira gagged but forced herself to chew.
The sinewy texture made her stomach lurch, but she swallowed the chunk down, knowing it was the only way to regain strength.
The tunnels were no place for the weak or hesitant, and she couldn't afford either. Survival was all that mattered now.
The nest around her was unsettlingly quiet, the absence of scuttling claws and guttural growls leaving an unnatural void.
How long had it been?
Two weeks more?
A month?
The faint light from the holes above did little to pierce the pervasive shadows, and the oppressive silence seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.
She exhaled sharply, her breath visible in the cold, damp air. Then, as she prepared to close her eyes and steal a few moments of rest, she felt it, a faint vibration beneath her feet.
