Chapter 5
Liz’s heart dropped, or at least she thought it did; she did not know if she still had a heart. Just a few minutes ago, she was in the worst pain of her life and two days ago, she was crying for death as things were done to her that she did not even understand. Liz was very hesitant, and Marcus saw her fear. He said, “Do not worry; I will not bite down again. You already know how to block it anyway.”
She was still somewhat hesitant; her brother’s word was worthless to her. Marcus dropped his head to the ground and opened his maw so the tip of his jowl touched the floor of the museum. Liz jumped to his tongue, and as soon as she entered, Marcus’s teeth came together and the world filled with a light gray glow.
She felt his head tilt upward and lower again. Liz was not afraid; he did this once before. When he ceased his movements, his mouth opened a few inches. He said, with Liz still in his mouth, “Look for an elongated red tooth at the back of my upper jaw. It has the appearance of a long shaft.”
“I think I found it.”
Indeed she did, Marcus told her to pull on it slowly, and she did as ordered. The red shaft had a spiral pattern coming down the hilt and ended in a copper rose. Liz pulled, and it would not budge. She used her body-weight to pull harder on the blade, but it still remained unmoved. Marcus reminded her, “Pull slowly, it will not move for the impatient.”
Liz used a single hand to pull downward and the blade slowly came through. It was perfect in every way a blade could be. The foot and a half wide surface was a perfect mirror that contained neither scratches nor dents. The blade itself held no chips or splits.
As Liz continued to pull on the shaft, she noticed it was not perfect. A large portion of it held large cracks and in a few areas, bolts held the pieces on. When she finally pulled the last of the blade out, Liz held the two foot long hilt over her shoulder and walked to the front of Marcus’s mouth. His teeth parted and she jumped out.
Marcus said to her, “Does it suit you?”
“I’ve never held a more perfect blade.”
“Good, but then, why do you not look pleased?”
“It is held together by bolt and looked like it would fall apart in five places if I held it the wrong way.”
“Little one, have you removed any of your memories lately?”
“No, I haven’t removed any of them. Why do you ask?”
“I ask because this particular blade should look very familiar to you.”
Liz reexamined the sword. It took her a full five minutes, but she remembered well enough where it came from. Liz turned to Marcus and asked, “Is this Cloud’s blade from the Final Fantasy Movie?”
A thick, dark stream of smoke trickled from Marcus’s nostrils as he failed to hide his amusement toward Liz’s expression. Liz said, “I swear to God, you may never be able to play video-games ever again, but you’re still the biggest fan-boy I know.”
“A very true, very literal statement. Now, are you prepared for your next lesson?”
“Am I ready? No I’m not. Do I have a choice?”
“I will be kind for once and give you a fighting chance. You can avoid the pain, but it must be earned.”
In the three seconds following that statement, Liz registered what Marcus said, changed her position to a fighting stance, leaped toward Marcus, and realized her fatal mistake.
In the air, it was not possible for her to change course, so her landing in his mouth after a slight change in position was inevitable. That was what she expected; what she did not expect was to be burned by two thousand degrees of bad breath upon entering his mouth.
When she landed in his mouth, Marcus made to grab her with his tongue. Liz swung the blade at the massive red tentacle, but the action only slowed the solid block of muscle. Marcus grabbed the blade and ripped it from her grip. Liz dropped to the floor of his maw and said, “I lost.”
“That you did,” Isaac said; he was watching the fight from a distance. Marcus tilted his head upward and closed his mouth. Liz had no will to continue and let herself fall into the black pit of Marcus’s throat.
She was still somewhat hesitant; her brother’s word was worthless to her. Marcus dropped his head to the ground and opened his maw so the tip of his jowl touched the floor of the museum. Liz jumped to his tongue, and as soon as she entered, Marcus’s teeth came together and the world filled with a light gray glow.
She felt his head tilt upward and lower again. Liz was not afraid; he did this once before. When he ceased his movements, his mouth opened a few inches. He said, with Liz still in his mouth, “Look for an elongated red tooth at the back of my upper jaw. It has the appearance of a long shaft.”
“I think I found it.”
Indeed she did, Marcus told her to pull on it slowly, and she did as ordered. The red shaft had a spiral pattern coming down the hilt and ended in a copper rose. Liz pulled, and it would not budge. She used her body-weight to pull harder on the blade, but it still remained unmoved. Marcus reminded her, “Pull slowly, it will not move for the impatient.”
Liz used a single hand to pull downward and the blade slowly came through. It was perfect in every way a blade could be. The foot and a half wide surface was a perfect mirror that contained neither scratches nor dents. The blade itself held no chips or splits.
As Liz continued to pull on the shaft, she noticed it was not perfect. A large portion of it held large cracks and in a few areas, bolts held the pieces on. When she finally pulled the last of the blade out, Liz held the two foot long hilt over her shoulder and walked to the front of Marcus’s mouth. His teeth parted and she jumped out.
Marcus said to her, “Does it suit you?”
“I’ve never held a more perfect blade.”
“Good, but then, why do you not look pleased?”
“It is held together by bolt and looked like it would fall apart in five places if I held it the wrong way.”
“Little one, have you removed any of your memories lately?”
“No, I haven’t removed any of them. Why do you ask?”
“I ask because this particular blade should look very familiar to you.”
Liz reexamined the sword. It took her a full five minutes, but she remembered well enough where it came from. Liz turned to Marcus and asked, “Is this Cloud’s blade from the Final Fantasy Movie?”
A thick, dark stream of smoke trickled from Marcus’s nostrils as he failed to hide his amusement toward Liz’s expression. Liz said, “I swear to God, you may never be able to play video-games ever again, but you’re still the biggest fan-boy I know.”
“A very true, very literal statement. Now, are you prepared for your next lesson?”
“Am I ready? No I’m not. Do I have a choice?”
“I will be kind for once and give you a fighting chance. You can avoid the pain, but it must be earned.”
In the three seconds following that statement, Liz registered what Marcus said, changed her position to a fighting stance, leaped toward Marcus, and realized her fatal mistake.
In the air, it was not possible for her to change course, so her landing in his mouth after a slight change in position was inevitable. That was what she expected; what she did not expect was to be burned by two thousand degrees of bad breath upon entering his mouth.
When she landed in his mouth, Marcus made to grab her with his tongue. Liz swung the blade at the massive red tentacle, but the action only slowed the solid block of muscle. Marcus grabbed the blade and ripped it from her grip. Liz dropped to the floor of his maw and said, “I lost.”
“That you did,” Isaac said; he was watching the fight from a distance. Marcus tilted his head upward and closed his mouth. Liz had no will to continue and let herself fall into the black pit of Marcus’s throat.