A week had passed since her terrible argument with Aleron, and Mabel wasn't afraid to admit that she missed her protector. But she would never crawl back to someone who didn't want her around, and Aleron had made his opinion very clear.

It was for that reason that she resisted the urge to call out for Aleron when Herman called her back to his office after she'd flipped the store's sign to 'Closed'.

Sucking in a steadying breath, Mabel stepped inside the older man's office, leaving the door open in case she needed to make a quick escape. "What's up, Herman?" She asked, wincing internally when her voice came out weak and shaky.

The form on the other side of the room shifted, and Herman turned to face her. But he didn't look like Herman, not really.

His eyes were no longer blue, replaced by a swirling of black and crimson that made Mabel think of a darker version of Aleron. Herman's normally kind face was twisted into a cruel smirk; Mabel squeaked when he spoke, and his voice sounded like a thousand souls speaking together.

"Hello, Mabel. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Mabel backed up, only to hit the now-closed door behind her. "Oh, crap," she whimpered when the doorknob jiggled against her fingers but wouldn't budge.

She was trapped.

"I apologize for scaring you," the thing lamented, sounding decidedly unapologetic, "but I needed to speak with you, and Aleron was not forthcoming with information."

"Wh-what does this have to do with—!" her voice died in her throat when the being flashed forward suddenly, appearing in front of her with its hand over her mouth.

"Oh no," It murmured, bending down until its lips brushed against her ear, causing her to shudder. "I am not so ignorant as to forget what happens when you say his name. I shall deal with that right away." It moved its other hand to the base of her throat, muttering in another language under its breath.

The only sound Mabel could hear was the rapid beating of her heart for several long moments.

"I apologize in advance for this, but it is necessary." The creature's words were followed by burning.

Mabel opened her mouth in a silent scream, scratching at her throat as liquid fire slid down it. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she crumpled to the floor, the pain subsiding but leaving her trembling.

With the creature's hand gone from her face, she opened her mouth to call for Aleron, but no sound came from her throat.

The monster had done something to her voice.

Mabel stared up at him with panic in her eyes, realizing with startling clarity that this very well could be it for her. Aleron had no idea she was in trouble (and wouldn't, since they'd parted ways on such terrible terms), and Mabel wasn't stupid enough to think that this creature would leave her alive.

With a chuckle that could be described as nothing other than pure evil, the thing snatched her up and they were swallowed by darkness.

***

The first thing Mabel became aware of was how nauseous she was. She leaned to the side and emptied the contents of her stomach, freezing when she heard a voice over her shoulder.

"I forgot how weak humans are. Ah, well, not too long now. Come on," Herman's hands lifted her up, spinning her around to face him—it—and Mabel blanched.

How the heck was she supposed to get out of this mess?

It snatched her elbow with one hand, using the other to gesture at their surroundings as if showing her a kingdom.

And perhaps it was a kingdom of sorts, but looking around only made Mabel's tears fall faster.

The ground beneath them was made of black clay, steam rising off the top as though the underside was on fire. Scraggly trees devoid of leaves rose from the ground, stretching up into the blood red sky. An imposing castle cast a shadow over everything; creatures reminiscent of gargoyles stood in front of the elaborate gate. Various people clothed in tattered robes and looking as though they hadn't been fed a decent meal in years milled about. From what Mabel could tell, they were completing various tasks, all with a ball and chain attached to one foot.

"Lovely, isn't it? Aleron took over delving out tasks after I was banished, but he isn't one for anything fun—says the puny humans don't deserve worse than what they already have, or something like that. I have a new idea, though, and I think you'll like it."

Mabel had the distinct feeling that, whatever it was, she wouldn't like it at all.

***

She wasn't sure how long she'd been here. She was only aware of two things: her throat was drier than Hell itself, and her body felt as though it had been put in a blender. Mabel was coated in bruises, cuts, and had been spitting up blood since she'd woken last.

Her room (if it could be called that) was similar to a prison cell, but much worse. The floor was made of brick and was hot at all times, leaving Mabel's feet and other patches of skin blistered and swollen; there were no windows, and breathing had gotten harder with every passing moment.

Thankfully, the strange gargoyle guards hadn't been in her cell that day. Whenever they came, they made sure to give her the 'special treatment' her captor had laid out (getting slammed around like a ragdoll wasn't Mabel's idea of 'special,' but there wasn't much she could do about it). Even though Mabel had faith in Aleron, she knew perfectly well that she wouldn't last much longer. With no food or water and around-the-clock torture sessions, there wasn't much hope for her, if any.

She stared up at the ceiling blankly, not even blinking when the heavy cell door was pushed open. A quick glance confirmed it was one of the gargoyles, and silent tears streaked through the dry blood coating her face. The gargoyle sneered and snatched her by the hair, dragging her behind him as he started up the long flight of stairs that led to the main floor of the castle.

A distinct sense of melancholy settled in Mabel's stomach, and she could only describe it as the feeling of impending death.

This is it.

The gargoyle threw her down at the feet of the creature still in Herman's body, and she struggled to her knees, coughing up bile and blood.

"Hello, Mabel." The thing greeted sweetly, kneeling to grasp her face in its hands. "I see my underlings have been doing as they're told. Unfortunately, it would seem you're not going to last as long as I originally thought. You'll have to forgive me for that error—I have trouble understanding humans. Aleron was always the empathetic one, after all. Now. Let's make this quick, shall we . . ." it trailed off abruptly, straightening up as though it had been electrocuted.

There was a beat of silence, and then the entire castle shook with the roar that filled the air.

"MABEL!"

The tears ran even faster down Mabel's cheeks, but they were of joy.

Aleron had finally come.

The gargoyle gripped her shoulder tightly when she tried to stand, keeping her on the ground. The beast in Herman's body sighed, but—even through her cloudy vision—Mabel could see the nervous glitter in his eyes. Even this thing hadn't anticipated Aleron's will to keep her safe.

Nonetheless, the monster twisted to address the gargoyle. "Leave us, and tell the others to do the same. This is my fight."

The gargoyle must have acquiesced, because his meaty claws retracted from Mabel's shoulder a moment later.

"Now," the beast practically purred, "for your part. Since I don't have time to kill you, this will have to do." It plucked her up, throwing her none-too-gently to the far corner of the room. Mabel landed in a heap, her body screaming in protest, and looked up just as it waved its hand in a circular motion. A transparent sheen formed between her and the fake Herman, like some kind of barrier.

"See? Now you can watch us, but he cannot watch you. Be a dear and don't make too much noise, alright?" Then the creature turned back to the large door, barely able to duck underneath the piece of wood when it was blown off its hinges.

Mabel had never been so relieved to see Aleron, one hand clutching his sword as he stood in the doorway, looking decidedly bloodthirsty.

"Where have you put her?!" he demanded, stalking forward until he stood nose-to-nose with the Herman who was not actually Herman.

The fake Herman smiled serenely. "You are too late, Brother. I am afraid your darling little human couldn't withstand the treatment down here. She left us this morning; you would have felt the connection sever, but you know very well how being down here interferes with those things."

There was a moment of silence, and the hair on Mabel's arms stood on end with the tension that sparked in the air. The shadows of the room converged around Aleron, just as the demon collapsed to the ground, face twisted in anguish as his sword fell with a clatter next to him. He sucked in a breath, then released it in a thunderous yell that shook Mabel's bones; the shadows shot outward, dousing the lights and knocking the not-Herman into the wall.

Aleron made no move, even though his enemy was struggling to stand. Instead, her protector remained kneeled on the ground, hands shaking and head bowed.

Get up! She willed him silently, crawling forward and banging her bloody fists against the invisible barrier that separated them, cursing mentally when no noise resonated.

Get up, Aleron!

The other monster gathered himself, stalking towards Aleron and kicking her guardian in the stomach. Aleron fell backwards with a grunt, but didn't attack. Her normally strong protector appeared to be drained of all fight, and Mabel felt a silent scream get clogged in her throat.

"You are weak, Brother," possessed-Herman taunted, bending over Aleron and spitting in his face. "Has a human being truly done this to you? It is no wonder you are no longer fit to complete your duties. Get up and fight! We will do this as we were meant to."

Aleron only shifted his head to the side, the fire in his eyes reduced to a dull spark as he stared blankly where Mabel was hidden.

She couldn't watch anymore—she didn't want to know what would happen, but she couldn't bear for Aleron to willingly let himself die solely because he believed she was gone.

She would not just lie down and die, weak human or not.

Eyes searching frantically around the confined space, she let her gaze settle on some loose bricks before moving her attention to a torch stationed six feet up the wall on an iron post. A stupid, idiotic idea formed in her head that would probably get her killed.

But Mabel didn't have much to lose at this point, and—as the saying went—desperate times called for desperate measures. If she could use the sharp tip of the iron to try and break the barrier . . . well, she'd never know if she never tried.

She ripped off part of her tattered dress, separating it into two strips and wrapping one around each palm. With one hand keeping her steady against the wall, she used the other to pull at the loose bricks, hope blossoming in her chest when they came out without much issue. Another layer of bricks lay beneath, but Mabel ignored them.

Grabbing the largest of the bricks, Mabel readied herself beneath the metal fixing the torch in place, raising the arm clasping the brick and jumping as high as she could. She swung the brick at the same time, wincing when it slammed against the iron and knocked her shoulder back.

It was a good hit, but nothing happened. The iron didn't fall, and she wanted to scream, cry, and fall asleep all at the same time.

Instead, she dropped the brick, bent over, and hacked up more blood.

Crap.

Staring at the blood pooled on the floor dumbly for several beats, Mabel reached forward after a moment with one hand to touch it, her mind racing with memories from better times.

"This whole summoning thing," she waved her hands around, as if the action would explain what she was talking about, "Does it work all the time? Like, what if I can't say your name?"

Aleron stiffened at the suggestion. "I would never let that happen, Little One." At her expectant look, he huffed and continue, "If it were to somehow occur, you need only write my name instead."

One of Mabel's brows quirked. "And that works?"

Aleron considered the question for a moment, before nodding once. "It will. Not as well as saying my name, unless you wrote it in your own blood," his eyes turned sharp, "Which you are never to do. It will drain you immensely if you summon me that way."

This seemed like a good as time as any to write with blood—she had plenty of it at her disposal, after all. With trembling fingers, Mabel dragged her blood-covered fingers in a jerking motion across a clear spot on the ground.

A L E R O N

H E L P

God, I hope this works.

*****