The boy’s arms shook so badly the club nearly slipped out of his hands. His fingers were numb, not from cold, but from exhaustion so deep it felt like his nerves had been scraped raw. His vision blurred at the edges. Every breath came out uneven, shaky, and wet.

  His ribs didn’t feel like his ribs anymore. Rather, they felt like shattered glass jammed into his lungs.

  Each inhale was a gamble. Every exhale was filled with pain. His chest rose and fell— tearing itself apart. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth and mixed with the slime smeared across his chin.

  But the heart beneath him was still beating. Thump. Thump. Thump.

  Each beat made the chamber tremble. Every thump sent vibrations through the walls, through the ceiling, through the thick ropes of veins that held it in place like chains. The pulses shook the acid below, making the bubbling liquid splash upward like it was alive and reaching.

  The acid had swallowed the entire floor. It boiled in thick yellow-green waves, devouring bone and flesh with no hesitation. Every time the disgusting liquid made a bubble that popped, the fumes rose higher. The air in the creature burned. The boy’s eyes watered constantly. His throat felt raw, like he was breathing in fire.

  The boy stared down at the acid and then turned his gaze toward the heart. It hung there, grotesque and arrogant, pumping dark fluid through veins the size of his torso.

  And it was the only thing keeping the grub alive. The boy swallowed hard. His throat clicked dryly. He could still hear them. The echoes—Like whispers carved into the walls of his mind. Knell’s fear still crawled behind his eyes like a parasite. Her last breath had gotten trapped inside him and it wouldn’t stop replaying in his messy mind.

  His grip tightened around the club.

  “…Shut up,” he muttered.

  He didn’t know if he was talking to the heart, or the voices, or himself.

  He raised the club. And swung. The club slammed into the heart with a wet, disgusting crunch. The muscle dented inward like a thick sack of meat. Dark fluid sprayed across his arms, warm and sticky, and the heart convulsed violently as if it had been shocked. Outside, the grub roared.

  The sound was distant, muffled through layers of flesh, but it still shook the chamber hard enough that the boy’s stomach lurched. The entire beast spasmed, and the boy nearly fell off the heart.

  He caught himself by slamming the club into the heart again, using it like an anchor. His ribs screamed as his torso twisted. The pain shot through his side so violently he gagged.

  He coughed causing blood to spill from his lips in a thick spray, splattering across the heart’s slick surface.

  The acid below surged higher in response, splashing against the heart’s lower veins. The boy’s boots slipped as the mixture of slick black liquid and the boy’s own blood covered the hearts surface.

  For a second his stomach dropped, and he felt himself sliding. The acid was waiting for his arrival. The heat rose up and kissed his skin like a warning. He scrambled, fingers clawing into the heart’s surface, nails tearing into muscle. The heart thumped harder against his palm, beating like it was laughing at him.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  What a cocky bitch,

  The boy’s eyes narrowed, bloodshot and furious. He regained his footing and raised the club again and swung harder.

  CRACK.

  The heart tore open slightly. A deep wound split across its surface. Dark fluid gushed out like oil, pouring down in thick ropes. The chamber shook violently, and outside the grub’s roar became something else. Real pain. That was a devastating blow to the creature. The boy’s ribs flared again and he nearly blacked out. His vision flashed white for half a second. He stumbled, clutching his side, and coughed again—More blood spilled out on shirt and onto the heart. How much blood have I lost? The boy felt a little dizzy as he had to try his hardest to focus.

  His throat burned. The acid below surged upward, hungrily trying to claim the boy.

  It was rising much faster now. The boy stared at it, breathing hard.

  He didn’t have time. He couldn’t chip away at this thing. Striking it over and over wouldn’t work—his body wouldn’t last. His ribs were already broken. His arms were shaking. His lungs were choking. And the voices in his skull were getting louder. Filling every corner of his mind.

  Kill it.

  Kill it.

  Kill it.

  HELLLP USSS.

  REVENGE USSSS.

  The boy clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached.

  “…Fine,” he whispered.

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  He planted his feet on the heart’s slick surface, bending his knees like he was about to jump.

  Then he did something reckless. Something nonsensically stupid. But he knew what he was doing.

  He dropped the club. It sank into the pulsing flesh. The boy raised both of his hands.

  His fingers trembled as he tried to summon the residue. He forced his mind to focus, forced his chest weight to respond.

  And for a horrifying second—Nothing happened. The boy’s stomach dropped. No. Not now. Not when he was this close.

  His vision blurred. His body swayed. His arms trembled so hard he could barely lift them. The fumes burned his eyes, and the voices in his skull started to overlap into something unbearable. He was losing himself. The boy coughed again. Blood ran down his chin. As he began focusing not only on his mind, so he could keep his thoughts straight in the sea of voices and memories, but also on the weight in chest as he tried to draw it out.

  “No,” he rasped. “You don’t get to stop now.”

  He clenched his fists. His nails dug into his palms. And the chest weight surged. Black residue crawled up his arms like smoke turned solid. It wrapped around his wrists, climbed his forearms, thickened around his knuckles like gauntlets. It wasn’t smooth. It felt like cold tar draped over his fists. His head throbbing and the voices grew louder.

  His thoughts became clouded, heavy, like someone had poured wet cement into his skull. He could barely keep his eyes open. But the residue was there. And he didn’t waste it. He slammed both hands into his heart. His fingers pierced deep, sinking into muscle and vein. The heart convulsed violently around him. The boy screamed— pain exploded through every crevice of his bod as his arms when deep into the heart.

  The voices in his skull exploded. His vision flashed. Knell’s eyes again—

  The boy’s teeth clenched so hard he thought they’d crack. His mind was tearing apart. But he didn’t let go. He pulled his arms out and the heart tore open. A massive rupture split through the organ like a ripped bag. Dark fluid exploded outward, spraying across the chamber. The veins around it bulged like ropes pulled too tight. Then snapped one by one.

  POP. POP. POP.

  The heart’s beating became frantic.

  Thump-thump-thump-thump.

  Then uneven.

  Thump… thump… THUMP…

  The boy felt it. The moment the grub’s life started slipping. The grub thrashed so violently the chamber shook like an earthquake . The boy’s body slammed into the heart Then acid splashed up and burned his leg.

  The pain was instant. It like fire poured onto his skin. The boy screamed and kicked away, forcing himself higher, clawing upward. He could smell his own flesh burning. The acid sizzled where it touched him. The boy cursed violently as he turned to look at his leg. His flesh had begun to melt as each muscle in his calf became visible before that too disappeared. The acid ate through the meat of his leg until it reached the thin layer of flesh just before his bone, where it stopped. The boy was sure that if more of the acid had touched him he wouldn’t have a leg at all.

  He gritted his teeth and turned his attention back to finishing the grub. The boy grabbed the heart’s torn flesh and ripped at it again and again tearing the veins like ropes. He easily shredded through the muscle. He was digging through the heart like a wild animal—blood covered his hands and faced. As he tore deeper, the voices inside screamed him louder and louder, until he couldn’t tell which thoughts were his anymore.

  Kill it.

  Kill it.

  Kill it.

  The boy screamed through clenched teeth, not even realizing tears were running down his face. The heart convulsed. Then gave one final violent spasm.

  THUMP. Then there was silence.

  The whole chamber froze. The heart had stopped. Though it didn’t look much like a heart anymore . Feeling something shift, the boy perked up. A deep groan echoed through the walls. Then, like the creature’s insides had lost their rhythm, the chamber tilted—hard. The boy slipped, almost falling into the acid. He grabbed the heart’s torn cavity, barely holding on. His fingers dug into shredded muscle.

  Then the whole chamber lurched again. The grub outside was collapsing. The boy’s eyes widened and he allowed a small smirk to escape his usually dull face.

  It worked. He killed it.

  But the relief lasted only a second. Because the walls began to squeeze. The flesh tightened and spasmed, twitching uncontrollably. The acid below him began bubbling even more violently. The fumes from the chemical concoction were now at a maximum, making it nearly impossible to breath.

  The boy’s chest tightened.

  No. No no no. He wasn’t going to die after winning. Not after all of this—after he just went through hell just to survive. Not after finally finding power.

  He looked around desperately. The torn wall he had broken through earlier was behind him, but now it was farther away. The chamber was shifting, collapsing inward. The exit was closing. The boy’s breath hitched.

  The boy gritted his teeth and forced his body to move.

  He climbed off the heart, slipping in dark fluid, barely catching himself from falling into the acid. The residue was fading now, crawling back down his arms like smoke being sucked away. He could feel it leaving and his strength left with it.

  His limbs felt heavier and his head felt foggier.

  The boy crawled along the chamber wall, using veins like ropes, pulling himself forward. The chamber shook— the flesh on the ceiling cracked. Chunks of tissue fell into the acid, sizzling instantly.

  The boy could only move faster as he continued crawling on the sides of the fleshy walls and swinging on veins. He had to get out. He had to reach the mouth before the whole thing collapsed in on itself.

  The boy crawled through the torn wall opening, dragging his body through the slick flesh tunnel beyond. The acid followed behind him, spilling forward like a wave. He didn’t look back. He was struggling and couldn’t begin to explain how his body was still functioning, but he kept crawling. Because outside…They were waiting. And if he didn’t come out… They’d never know he won.

  The boy’s fingers scraped against something hard, rows of spinning teeth that were no longer in motion. His eyes widened—he was close. So he pushed forward with everything he had. And the tunnel ahead finally opened as he could feel the light finally reach his skin. He took a deep breath—the air was clean and uncontaminated. He was finally out. The boy’s head emerged out of the grub’s mouth as he slowly crawled out. His body collapsed onto the ridge.

  He gasped, choking, covered in slime and blood and black residue. His chest rose and fell violently, and his ribs felt like they were about to explode outward. Blood spilled onto the stone, and the boy began coughing violently.

  The survivors outside stared at him like he was a ghost. Snow’s bow lowered. Sheath froze mid-step. Gravel’s eyes widened. Wrighty’s face twisted with shock. Shiela covered her mouth. Even Five’s calm expression cracked.

  The boy lay there, coughing, chest heaving, ribs screaming, eyes half-open.

  Then he whispered, voice broken and hoarse:

  “…I killed it.”

  Behind him, the grub’s body convulsed one last time.

  And then— It began to fall. With it the boy’s head dropped as he lost consciousness.