Juliana wasn’t deluded enough to believe that the voice was benevolent–this was Hell after all. Nothing about the voice screamed that it was warm and fuzzy.
But the feeling wasn’t malicious. There was no cruelty in it. Just cold truth.
Perhaps it was an enemy of Willie. Or some other demon that wanted to make her into its pet.
At the moment, Juliana cared little. So long as it helped her, helped her mother, Juliana was willing to repay the favor with interest.
Nothing but silence answered her.
Juliana’s head slumped to her chest as her palms pressed into the sandy beach. She gripped the sand in her hands, lifting it up and watching it fall.
“Fine,” she said, again moving to stand. “Fine. I’ll save my mother myself. And I’ll owe you nothing.”
Turning back to the theater, Juliana started forwards. Even if it wasn’t his real body, perhaps killing the puppet would buy enough time to get her mother out of this hellhole.
Reentering the theater, Juliana found it mostly unchanged. Willie still stood facing the screen. The intensity in his eyes had died down somewhat compared to the first few moments after her mother had been injured.
It was with some small reluctance that Juliana looked up at the screen.
Her mother was still alive if her laborious breathing was any indication. Her chest heaved up and down as Eva knelt over her with her face twisted in concentration.
Watching Arachne look bored off to one side renewed Juliana’s anger.
A sinking sensation of disgust welled up in Juliana realized that a good portion of that anger was more towards herself than the spider-demon.
Shaking her head, Juliana focused back on Willie. He made a suitable target for her anger.
Juliana walked up next to the demon and stood for just a moment. He made no motion to acknowledge her presence or even indicate that she had returned. That set off more than a few alarm bells in her head. But as she watched him, she got the feeling that it was more a simple case of him caring more about the others than her.
And if she waited too long, he might sit down again, ridding her of the opportunity to strike at his back.
Taking in a quiet breath, Juliana performed one last self check. Her dagger was about as sharp as it could get. She hadn’t been able to scrape together enough metal for a decent armor set, but if she kept a small patch flowing, intercepting some attacks might be possible.
Juliana struck.
Deciding to go for the strings first, she swept her arm in a wide swipe designed to cut as many as possible as fast as she could.
There was a momentary tension in each string her blade passed through. One lashed back as it snapped, drawing a thin line of blood from her wrist.
The strings pulled, leading off towards the stage. Willie followed an instant later. His legs kicked against the tops of the lower rows of seats as he ‘flew’ across the room.
Juliana wasted no time in chasing after him. She had to end this fast or he would tie her up in the same wires and strings that had trapped the others.
“What is this?” he proclaimed as Juliana ran up the steps to the stage. “Betrayal? Treachery? After I took the time to feed and clothe you.”
Juliana had nothing to say in return. No time for banter. She crossed the stage in hasty silence.
Willie’s arm hung limp at his side. Her blade had severed all the strings attached to his fingers and up his right arm to his shoulder. The strings dangled a few inches, hanging off of him like he walked through a bunch of cobwebs.
Keeping the lessons drilled into her by her mother in mind, Juliana aimed for all soft targets. She would have to find out the hard way whether or not they worked on demons.
Juliana’s dagger swiped through nothing but air. Her target–his groin–just wasn’t where her dagger was.
The strings on his backside and legs pulled back and up, dragging along her target. The rest of him did not move.
So Juliana followed through. She pushed her dagger upwards towards his chest and, more importantly, his neck.
Willie did not stay idle. The upper strings snapped back, leaving a small cracking noise in their wake.
Juliana’s eyes widened as she saw the feet swinging back in her direction.
She parried his kick with her knife arm, using the small patch of metal coating the outside of her arm to tank the hit.
It felt like a jackhammer on full throttle. Never-mind that she hadn’t ever been hit with a jackhammer, it still rattled her arm up her shoulder and into her chest. The only reason she retained a hold on her dagger was that the metal was shaped in such a way as to make it extremely difficult to drop, if not impossible.
Willie pressed his advantage. His still strung arm swung forwards.
No time to move out of the way or attempt to block.
Juliana took the blow to her chest.
Considering he was essentially floating in the air, his punch did not want for strength.
With a grunt, Juliana was forced to backpedal several steps. Only because her mother had trained her reflexes did she keep from falling flat on her back.
