Before the girl could even try anything, the knight was already on her, moving with a swiftness that belied its heavy, scarred armor.
Each step resounded through the cave, thudding against the ground without care or caution. It seemed to realize it had every advantage against the pale, frail, confused and fear-stricken girl who stood frozen and confused on the metal construct.
The vines blanketing the cavern remained strangely still, not reacting to the violent motion of the knight like they had to the earlier creatures. She didn't have the time to wonder why.
Her body jerked into action as her mind caught up to the imminent approach of the reaper.
And she ran.
Even if the vines stirred, she might have a chance. The smallest, faintest, most unrealistic chance of living. Against this armored thing bearing down on her with intent to kill? None.
Pushing off from the metallic cocoon she'd woken upon, she sprinted toward the nearest of the dark, hollowed circles in the cave wall. Her legs, small and trembling from disuse, barely obeyed her.
The cool ground, hidden under veils of gray foliage, gave little traction.
Her bare feet slapped against it in frantic, uneven stumbles. Every few steps, the vines thinned just enough to reveal the jagged stone beneath, and sharp points bit into her soles.
She winced, her breath catching, but didn't slow down.
Behind her, the knight's steps drew closer and closer without any signs of stopping.
A scraping noise — the metallic rasp of gauntlets brushing against the hilt of the massive greatsword on its back — clawed at her ears.
She dared a glance over her shoulder.
The knight was nearly upon her, close enough that she could see the deep gouges and long dried bloodstains marring the black steel of its armor.
Yet the sword remained sheathed. It was reaching for her with its empty hand instead, as if it meant to wring the life from her with nothing but sheer strength.
Behind the knight, a twinset of towering cogs rested, half-buried in the living, pulsing vines.
One cog stood tall, the other sprawled on its side like a collapsed giant, both tangled so thoroughly in the pale foliage that their true forms were almost lost. Somewhere deep inside the twisted machinery, a faint white light bled out into the gloom.
She realized too late — she had been sold out by the light from the machinery.
From where she sat, semi-conscious and just witnessing the violent dismissal of two equally foul beasts by living vines, she failed to notice the faint light at her back. It glowed too weakly to illuminate anything in her sight, especially when it had to contend with the cracks above letting in more light than the feeble glow could ever hope to.
But, from the perspective of the knight, it was obvious. Her figure was basically outlined by the damn thing.
'Curses!'
Her lungs burned. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to keep moving, but she could feel herself flagging already.
She whipped her head forward again, panting heavily. She was still too far from the nearest tunnel mouth.
The next thing she knew, she was shouting.
"Hey!" her voice cracked mid-scream, but she pushed the sound out anyway.
Maybe... somehow she could distract it, talk it down, anything.
There was no change. The knight's pace did not falter. Its heavy bootsteps continued to fall in rhythm, every one counting down to her demise.
Her bare foot caught on something, a vine thicker than her wrist, and she tumbled forward.
Pain flared up her side as her ribs collided with the ground.
Before she could push herself back up, she turned her head and faced death.
The knight was nearly on her. Its heavy body blocked out the cavern light, a terrible wall of black steel bearing down, one hand raised high and closing into a brutal fist.
The pale child barely managed to roll to the side, she felt something stretch in the side of her chest as she did.
The knight's punch struck the stone where her head had been a heartbeat before.
The entire cavern floor buckled under the force, a deafening crack splitting the air. Dust and shards of rock exploded outward.
She gasped, heart slamming against her ribs, her ears ringing from the impact.
She expected the next blow to follow instantly — but when she scrambled up to flee, she felt a crushing weight seize her ankle.
She screamed, twisting violently, but it was no use.
The knight's free hand had her, its fingers locked like iron shackles around her thin leg. She could feel the pressure building, bone straining, skin starting to bruise.
She clawed at the ground with her nails, kicking out with her free foot, but the knight didn't even flinch.
It tugged sharply, dragging her back toward the crater it had made, toward itself.
Its other arm was wedged deep in the stone hole, the punch having buried it halfway up to the elbow. It struggled, jerking its trapped limb, but the rock clung fast for now.
For now.
The panic rose so quickly that it almost strangled her.
She thrashed harder, feeling the harsh sting of her skin tearing where the gauntlet bit into her ankle.
Tears blurred her vision, but she forced herself to think.
It wasn't human. It couldn't be. No human could punch through solid stone and still move like that. No human would remain so completely silent, unaffected by pain, by her cries.
The spider-things from earlier flashed in her mind, she remembered how they fought and how they died. Bursting into a pool of blue blood one way or another.
Frantically, she began to tap her fingers against the ground. She did so with enough force to mimic what she thought the weight of the things were remotely close to. Her fingers began to burn every time they brushed against the cavern's floor.
Once, twice, five times, tapping in a fast, irregular rhythm while the knight continued its attempts to force it's arm out.
Nothing happened.
The knight's grip tightened, and she could feel the ugly promise of her bones giving way.
Letting out a bestial growl she lifted both arms up, curling her hands into fist and promptly slammed them against the ground.
Something happened.