Come Back Witch

As the light hit his eyes, blinding him, he instinctively closed his eyes; he didn't have time to reposition himself.

He was sure he was about to die in just a moment, but before he could, his body tried everything to survive, even without focus, small strings of light were visible in the darkness.

He had done it; he was able to see the mimic's life force without needing time to concentrate.

But this still wouldn't save him, as he watched the dark light move towards him with speed impossible to match.

And he still dared to try it, sending a prayer. He was ready to sacrifice his leg once again if it meant for him to survive.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion as his brain kicked into overdrive, processing everything at once. The mimic's light was barely a meter away now, as finally, without moving, he started to position himself slightly to the right.

The cave floor below him began to warp with his body on it, shifting him barely twenty centimeters to the side. It wasn't enough to escape the attack, but escaping wasn't his plan either way.

Instead, he was going for a counter, opening his eyes, he could see one of the blades thrusting just a few millimeters away from his head, cutting some of his blond hair.

But the mimic wasn't going to let him win easily. Instead, it slightly moved its other dagger, piercing Vinces straight into his stomach.

But before he could even realize the pain, Vinces was ready to make his move. He knew the spear couldn't be used in close combat, at least not how it should be used.

This time, he wasn't going to use the range advantage; only holding the short spear just below its top, he was using it as a dagger with an unnaturally long handle.

While his right arm was driven upwards directly towards the throat of the mimic, but at the same time it finally regained some of its momentum from its missed attack, instead thrusting its remaining dagger towards Vinces chest.

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But it didn't manage to ever hit its target. Vinces spear connected with its throat first, piercing its skin and injuring it lethally.

The force lifted it off the ground, pushing it just outside its range to strike him back.

Impaled through the throat, it stared at Vinces, its final breath coldly hitting his face, the remaining dagger frozen just an inch away from his heart, neither of them moving.

Its dark eyes having lost every ounce of life. Still stuck in a final battle cry.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, even though he was sure whatever was in front of him wasn't his friend. It had only worn his face and he knew that. He said it anyway. But it still hurt his heart to do something like this toward anything that looked like his friend.

Closing his eyes, Vinces let go of his weapon, letting it fall down to the hard stone together with the monster body. He wanted to continue standing but felt his consciousness slowly fading as the pain of his new wound paralyzed him.

With his last energy, he focused one last time on the life energy of the monster but found nothing. The body of his friend lay still and cold against the stone, no different from the cave floor beneath it.

Having confirmed its death, he finally allowed himself to rest for a moment as he stumbled backwards onto the cold stone, not even feeling the impact of his fall; he could only lie there while his body slowly started to lose blood in great masses.

The wound he had attained was by any measure lethal for a normal human being, but he knew he had passed this threshold long ago. Gritting his teeth, he held on to the last strain of consciousness he had remaining.

Falling unconscious with this wound would be a death sentence, he had to find a way to close the wound, which luckily seemed to have missed or was not able to pierce any important organ.

Lying on the ground, he slowly moved his hand towards the dagger still stuck in his stomach and with all his remaining might, started to pull it out. It should've been easy to move such a tiny object, but his hands were shaking from pain and tiredness.

As the dagger finally left his body, he instantly lost grip on the weapon as his pained voice screamed through the cave and blood started leaking in great masses from the wound.

Even in pain he slowly started to crawl forward towards the fire pit. His movements were slow, as his gaze was only focused on his goal; the skull was lying just in his way, staring directly at him as if he were waiting for him to join them.

But today wasn't the day he would meet the same end as he did.

Finally reaching the fire pit, he could still feel the lingering heat hitting his face, the faint smell of ash and char filling his lungs and with it, hope. As his arm reached out towards the burnt wood. His fingers finally touching the still-hot, burned remains.

He didn't care about being burned, but his body did. Touching it, he nearly let go of the wood, his body not following his will. Everything hurt so much he wasn't even able to think anymore as his body slowly gave up.

With one final try, he once again grabbed for the heat of the wood, this time being able to grasp it. As the heat began to burn through his skin, he knew he had made the right decision.

Before his body once again could give out, he moved the burnt wood towards his stomach, pressing it exactly at his wound.

He wanted to pull it away but couldn't; the new pain was stunning his whole body, and only his raw screams echoed through the cave. And even those slowly faded away.

The pain seemed to weaken.

No, it was simply that he stopped feeling.

Finally letting go of the wood, he dared to rest.

Hoping he would be able to see the next day.