The Bli looked up from its meal, maw still smeared with the entrails of the chubby toddler Katlyn had seen outside. At first it looked comically surprised, with its head cocked innocently to one side. Then, like gradual melting of frost, a slow smile of utter glee spread across the Bli's hideous face. Fastidiously, it wiped the blood from its thin lips, wielding the rag as daintily as a lady would a lace handkerchief.
Katlyn's heart faltered, then sped up, panicked as a trapped butterfly.
With the utmost care, the Bli set the rag down and straightened from its hunched stance. Standing on two legs, the Bli seemed eerily human; its every movement a grotesque parody of the human version.
Katlyn's face was as white as her knuckles were from gripping the handle of her knife. She spoke unsteadily. "You are about to meet your end, vile creature," her voice quavered, "for only one of us is leaving this cave alive, and be it not I, at least I shall see Erin once more."
This valiant speech had little effect on the Bli, who, with a spiteful leer, started to sidle closer, long nails clicking against the stone floor. Katlyn stood motionless. Encouraged by this, the Bli hobbled faster, its thin, thin arms outstretched like those of a grotesque baby, reaching for its mother.
With a trembling hand, Katlyn drew her knife and brandished it without conviction. Light flashed on metal; gave the Bli pause. Only once before had a fleshy morsel come voluntarily, but instead of offering itself up to its rightful lord and master, the fleshy morsel had also waved a sharp sliver of steel. Oh, how that little sliver had stung, stung so terribly. But no matter. The Bli, ultimately, had devoured the fleshy morsel alive. Just as it would this one.
The Bli started to hurry, limbs jerking hideously as it lolloped feverishly toward Katlyn. Her breaths came in quick gasps as she beheld its glistening needle-teeth, the puckered scars on its hairless scalp.
Just then, the sun set in a brilliant blaze of ruby and gold light. The evening rays backlit Katlyn most spectacularly, unbeknownst to Katlyn herself, painting her dark hair a bright mahogany. She did, however, feel the warmth on her back, and silently thanked the spirits for allowing her to experience one last sunset.
The Bli's horribly thin legs bent, tensed, it sprung with a bloodcurdling screech.
Katlyn had intended to squeal, but terror had left her mouth dry. She gasped, swiped the knife desperately. She had expected to split the Bli's swollen belly wide open, instead it dodged with contemptuous ease and scratched her cheek with a cruel, sharp fingernail.
Cupping the bleeding wound with one hand, Katlyn saw that the Bli had interposed itself between her and the glorious sunset. Cold rage ran through her veins at this. This monster, this wretch had killed Erin and countless others, had tried to waylay her on the lonely forest path, and now it denied her this last joy. This was simply too much.
Savagely, Katlyn hurled the knife at the black silhouette of the Bli. It had been intent upon the corpse of the chubby toddler, clearly dismissing Katlyn as only a minor concern.
The perfect throw, about to lodge the knife firmly between the Bli's jagged shoulder blades, was deflected at the last moment. The Bli had heard the hiss of air as the blade sliced through it and turned hastily. It whipped out a bony hand, swiping the knife aside, where it fell leadenly to the ground.
Hatred, mingled with slight disbelief, registered in the Bli's huge, moist eyes. With saliva dripping from its pale lips, the Bli smiled mirthlessly. Needle-like teeth shone in the fading light, and a white tongue, pockmarked with sores, darted out hungrily.
Half leaning back from disgust, Katlyn edged forth warily, fingers itching for a knife to throw. Unfortunately her only weapon lay beneath the corpulent, sagging belly of the Bli. A perilous location, to be sure.
The Bli presently began an elaborate routine of wailing with its head thrown back, screeching, and clawing at the floor. Its gnarled spine was arched, bony clavicle thrust forth.
Katlyn was suitably unimpressed by these theatrics. A week ago, perhaps, she might have quailed, stricken with fear. But she, upon the loss of her knife, had resigned herself to sure death.
The Bli displayed no signs of letting her retrieve her weapon, instead shrieking and grunting in the most beastly fashion. Tortured moans were dragged from its throat while a horrible keening issued from its gaping jaws, like the death cry of-
"Oh shut your whining," Katlyn snapped.
The Bli, to its credit, did indeed shut its whining mid-grunt. For a moment it looked comically surprised, awful mouth still hanging open. Then, with a brusque little wriggle, the Bli stood upright, one foot resting casually on Katlyn's knife still. It looked, in the uncertain light, for all the world like an emaciated toddler, standing on two legs. A pallid, scarred toddler, that is. With a corset of jutting little ribs above its bloated potbelly. Insouciantly, the Bli rested one hand on its hip like a petulant teenage girl. The claws of its left foot tapped carelessly against Katlyn's knife. The Bli cocked its head to one side and grinned.
Katlyn, half-hysterical with horror, fought a morbid giggle. Any sane person would've curled up in the fetal position, crying softly for their mother. The Bli extended a questing hand, nails clicking ominously as though to say, "You've tried to kill me. You've failed. Now don't struggle when I chew your face off."
With a carefree gesture, Katlyn batted the gnarled, knobbly hand aside. She grinned back at the Bli with twice the radiance and also rested a hand on her hip. Also like a petulant teenage girl.
And for the first time, a flicker of discontent registered in the Bli's pale, wet eyes. It snarled, jerking forwards to make the fleshy morsel flinch. The fleshy morsel did not. She was as cool as ice, staring the Bli down with crystal blue eyes.
This was most unprecedented, ruminated the Bli. The other fleshy morsel had been bursting at the seams with chivalrous declarations and courageous boasting. Naturally, the boasting had diminished markedly after the man's face had been torn off. And yet… this gave the Bli pause… this girl was as nonchalant as ever, even after being robbed of her sliver of steel.
In truth, Katlyn was less nonchalant than she outwardly appeared. She was searching desperately for even the slightest opportunity to retrieve her weapon, to no avail. The paralyzing terror of confronting the Bli, had, strangely enough, started to thaw the grief in her heart. She still mourned for Erin, but that was eclipsed by a desire for revenge and some twisted semblance of fatalistic bravery. Which she now relied solely upon to keep her composure whilst staring down a monster.
And for a minute, girl and monster were still, staring at each other unflinchingly. Both were posing ridiculously, hand on hip. Behind the Bli, the sun disappeared beneath the horizon.
The Bli lunged, the girl dodged; the spell broke.
Katlyn flung herself sideways, feeling the breeze of swiping nails near her neck. The Bli had passed revoltingly close; she choked on its rancid odour of decay.
Katlyn dove for her knife, where it lay shining in the moonlight.
The Bli performed an aerial somersault, teeth clacking in dismay when they had been met with empty air, expecting to taste sweet flesh. Its joints swivelled hideously, bony crags beneath distended, pasty skin.
Katlyn's slender fingers closed on the knife's hilt. Then, upon hearing the sinister patter of eager feet, she ducked and threw at the same time.
The sickening crunch of bone and the gurgle of ruptured organs came from behind. An enraged, inhuman cry rang out, slowly fading. Hardly daring to believe her luck, Katlyn looked warily, squinting in the partial darkness.
Nothing.
Knife and Bli were gone.
Then, out of nowhere, the flap of wings heralded tiny, sharp, needle-teeth which sank into her shoulder.
Katlyn cried out, seizing the owner of the teeth and flinging it away. For a moment, her slender fingers sank into soft, strangely gelatinous skin; she felt protruding spires of bone and cartilage and tough, stringy muscle. The Bli squirmed repulsively in her grasp, its arms churning and flesh undulating. Then Katlyn's arm sent it spinning away into the gloom of the cave.
A sizable chunk of her shoulder had been torn away. Katlyn pressed a wad of cloth to the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.
On the cave floor lay her knife, glinting wetly. The black substance it was coated in was too dark and viscous to be any normal blood. Of course, the Bli was anything but normal.
Katlyn hobbled over and seized her knife, wiping it hastily. She had her weapon, at least. She gritted her teeth against the throbbing pain, clutching the knife with the hand of the uninjured arm. Unfortunately, she threw with her right, and her right shoulder had just been eaten.
Clumsily, Katlyn tried a throw with her left hand. She'd aimed for a patch of lichen, roughly the size of the Bli's head.
If the lichen had been four feet to the right and flat on the floor, she would've hit it spot on. Katlyn tried to dispel these negative thoughts. Erin had been left-handed. Katlyn knew then that the muscles in her shoulder would never heal fully. Not enough for her to throw a knife. So she would be left-handed too.
The last vestiges of warmth and light were now gone. It was thoroughly night, a silky darkness dotted with stars. The night air was pleasing, but from inside the cave gushed the smell of dead things that had never seen light.
Naturally, Katlyn was nigh reluctant to enter.
But within dwelt the Bli, and so any chance of redemption.
Her shoulder aching keenly, Katlyn ventured in, each step more hesitant than the last. Perhaps, she thought hopefully, the Bli had spent the last of its energy on attacking her, then crawled back into the depths to die quietly. Katlyn's foot crunched on the rib of a long-dead victim. Or perhaps the Bli was lying in wait, enraged beyond doubt by her failed assassination attempt.
Now that her eyes had adjusted, Katlyn could perceive the indistinct outlines of stalagmites and stalactites, even slender pillars where the two had fused. There was no shortage of geological marvels to behold, were the viewer not intent upon darker things.
Katlyn flitted from shadow to shadow, soft-footed as a cat. There was no indication of the Bli, other than the remains of its past victims and the smell of rotting flesh, which permeated the air.
Lesser wills and weaker stomachs might have hastily presumed the Bli to be dead, then sprinted out of the cave at all speed. Katlyn displayed no such cowardice. Her courage was unwavering, though it was tempered with caution and an appreciation of her own weaknesses.
Weaknesses like her right shoulder. Or lack thereof.
The Bli, Katlyn surmised, had also vanished. There were no footprints, no trail of blood leading to its current hiding spot. Ideally, she would've lit a torch or lantern and hollered challenges into the cave's deepest recesses. But she had no torch, no lantern, and no shortage of injuries. The cave had a dark, oppressive atmosphere. Bare skeletons and bodies in various states of decay were strewn decoratively across the stone floor. The stalactites were reminiscent of the Bli's teeth, and even the gentle plink of falling water seemed malign. Katlyn leaned casually against a stalagmite, deciding to let the Bli come to her.
She then realized that one of the corpses had shifted into a sitting position.
Katlyn did not turn her head, nor did she move aside from nonchalantly scratching her nose. Her heart was pounding, however, and she watched the corpse with wide eyes.
It had been a solidly built man, with sandy hair and crooked spectacles. Crooked, Katlyn mused, because his nose had been eaten. He was in better repair than most, for the Bli had graciously allowed him to retain all of his face except the nose. The man was slumped unnaturally against a boulder, his neck hideously skewed.
Inside, with wet slurps, the Bli rummaged about for the last remaining organs. Apparently a juicy one had been found, for the Bli gave a guttural cry of delight. Brisk chewing noises ensued. Katlyn's face was a pale oval in the dark. She dreaded the task at hand; to dissect a dead man and kill the monster within, while it feasted unaware.
Her feet glided across the floor, what little noise they made was drowned out by the Bli smacking its lips in delight. The man's stomach bulged grotesquely as the Bli strained for a juicy kidney or appendix.
A fibula snapped under Katlyn's boot with a crisp echo. She winced.
The undulations of the man's stomach abruptly ceased. From a black cavity in his back emerged the Bli, in all its glistening and bloody glory.
There was a brief, almost ridiculous hesitation as the Bli paused to catch its breath, bony chest heaving. Its distended stomach looked close to bursting, and the Bli tried several times to take to the air. Its tiny wings whirred, the Bli achieved a few inches of lift before its swaying stomach dragged it back down.