Chapter 7 - The Showdown (Part 1)

111 19 6
                                    

Staggering slightly from the pain, Amadeus made his way carefully up the spiral staircase. There was no one in sight; where was Waldo Drake? He should have come looking for Amadeus by now. This was most unlike Waldo, and it did not bode well for him.

As Amadeus made his way down the corridor, he could still hear the muffled screams of Gene and Lockheed coming from behind one of the doors. He stumbled down the corridor in a hurry, leaving the screams behind. He tried to ignore the throbbing pain from his hand which intensified with each step he took down the corridor.

He could not afford to stop and rest now, he had to reach the prison room before Turney returned. As he turned the corner, he came to the entrance of the prison room. The prison room door was left ajar; could Waldo still be inside? Amadeus cautiously approached the prison door, and as he peered in, he came face to face with none other than Waldo Drake. Waldo was standing in the middle of the room, as though he had been waiting for this moment to come.

"There you are, commoner. Don't just stand outside, do come in."

Without waiting for a reply, Waldo snapped his fingers and a small spark ignited into a single flame which burned weakly on his finger tip. He flicked his finger lightly and the flame on it fell towards the ground. The flame crept along the ground and climbed up the walls. It left a trail of fire at first, but multiplied as it moved, and soon it had formed glowing orange lines across the entire room. They moved and multiplied quicker and quicker before converging together again to form pillars of fire. Within seconds, the entire prison room lit up in flames and the temperature in the room rose sharply; pillars of fire flared up and swirled towards the ceiling.

The pillars of fire remained in their places, burning brightly while slowly consuming the things that they touched. Although he was only standing at the door frame, Amadeus could feel the immense heat coming from inside the room. Beads of sweat formed on Amadeus' brow, and he quickly wiped them off with his forearm.

"No more games Amadeus, just you and the Drake. There is nowhere else for you to run. No more tricks are going to help you here. The Drake is going to defeat you here and now without moving from this spot," said Waldo as he pointed to the ground beneath his feet.

Amadeus had no other choice. He would have to face down Waldo Drake if he were to rescue the Exiles. He would need a weapon to even the odds. He took a step into the room and groped for the weapon rack which he knew was next to the door. It was hard to see in the room as the flames made the air hazy and gray clouds of smoke wafted around the room. Through the haze, Amadeus managed to reach for the weapon rack which was next to the door. He gripped one of the knives in his hand and lifted it off the rack, holding it in his uninjured hand. His strength was drained from his previous fight, and he was forced to use his non-dominant hand. The knife felt heavier than it should have.

Waldo looked unimpressed. He yawned and raised his hand high in the air, causing the flames to intensify. "You should take a good look at yourself right now commoner; you look pathetic. The Drake can't believe he was defeated by this weakling before him."

Amadeus coughed as he took a step into the room. He gasped for air as smoke filled his lungs.

"Because the Drake is feeling generous, he is going to give you one clear shot at him. You may hit him in any way you wish. Use that knife in your hand. Go ahead. Try and strike the Drake," scoffed Waldo as he opened his arms wide, leaving himself vulnerable to any attack.

Amadeus raised his hand and took aim carefully. How could he pass up such an offer? He extended his arm and hurled the knife at Waldo with his remaining strength. As the knife spun and whistled through the air towards Waldo, Amadeus expected that Waldo would go against his word and step aside. Waldo however, remained true to his word and did not move an inch from where he was standing.

The Zero Hour | #Wattys2016Where stories live. Discover now