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“General Zaroff,” Rainsford hissed through gritted teeth. He slowly circled around his arch-enemy, his knife held in his hand so tight his knuckles turned a putrid shade of white. The bedroom was large; the perfect size, in fact.
“Rainsford,” the Cossack scoffed, flicking his hand as if he hadn’t a care in the world. “You needn’t use that tone with me. We can take care of this matter like civilized men.”
“No.” Rainsford stepped forward dangerously, his feet treading on the elaborate red and gold rug. “I will not fall for your tricks again. I demand that we duel.”
“Now Rainsford,” the Cossack said, raising his hands in a surrendering manner, nearly backing into the four poster wooden bed. “You win my game. There is no need to fight.”
In the space of a blink, Rainsford darted forward and pressed his knife to the Cossack’s throat with a savage expression. “There is a need to fight.”
Perhaps even faster than Rainsford, the Cossack produced his own knife and twisted away from him and pinned Rainsford against the hard stone wall before you could say “Long live the Cossack!”
“How dare you.” Rainsford froze and bared his teeth at Zaroff. He did not move an inch.
“What was that you said?” Zaroff whispered in Rainsford’s ear. “I thought you wanted to fight.”
With a grunt, Rainford waited no longer and cleanly drove his knife into the general’s thigh. The Cassock screamed in a blood curdling manner and Rainsford used the distraction to wrench himself away from Zaroff’s iron grip. The knife smeared warm blood all over Rainsford’s hands. The fight had started, and Rainsford knew that the Cassock’s cocky demeanor was gone now.
"Hannibal" Kasey Davolio
With eyes full of hatred and pure fury, Zaroff advanced on Rainsford like a shark. His eyes no longer looked pompous and egotistical; Rainsford could swear he saw them turning red. His ragged and heaping breathing made him look like a mad dog. The Cassock leaped forward and knocked Rainsford against the door, stabbing and destroying the pretty carving easily. When the general caught Rainsford in the palm, it was his turn to scream. He could hear the knife cut right through his bones.
“You have made a big mistake.” The Cassock’s sudden transformation had caught Rainsford off guard, and he misjudged how strong he really was. He held the knife and dug it farther into Rainsford’s hand. “I told you you won, and still you fought back. Now you will pay.”
“No, you will pay!” Rainsford threw the general off of him with a surge of new confidence and strength. He pulled the knife out of his hand and aimed it straight at the general’s face, but he dodged and it hit the window instead. The detailed glass broke with a loud crash and a rainfall of shards landed on Zaroff, knocking him to the ground. The now open window sent a cool breeze past Rainsford’s head and rustled the bed curtains.
That's it! Rainsford decided. He could use every second he had, so he quickly searched the room for anything else he could use to his advantage while the Cassock was momentarily distracted. He started frantically pulling the drawers out of the general’s chest while pretty white clothes floated to the ground as if they were parachutes. He ripped the red curtains off the bedframe and threw them in a pile on the rug in the center of the floor that was now covered in blood. He grabbed the candle off of the Cassock’s bedside and cupped his hand around it so the breeze would not blow it out.
“What are you doing?” It was more of a demand than a question. Rainsford looked Zaroff in his enraged and evil eyes with a determined expression and threw the candle on the pile of linens. In a matter of seconds dark, coal colored smoke filled the room, and Rainsford was finally having second thoughts about his idea when he started coughing profusely. The bright orange flames licked slowly at the delicious feast laid before them. Rainsford would hurt his eyes if he stared at them for too long, they were so bright.
To the Cassock, however, the fire was a mere disturbance. His one target was Rainsford, who could tell the general would stop at nothing before he finally killed him. Rainsford was playing with fire both literally and figuratively.
Rainsford could barely see Zaroff across the room. The smoke created a horror-like mood; Rainsford wasn't sure if he would be able to spy the general if he attacked again.
Suddenly, he was knocked to the ground. His head smacked against the floor so hard he heard a crack as loud as the glass shattering before the edges of the world started to fade to black.
I can't faint! Rainsford tried to think as he squinted to see the nightmarish creature standing above him. He’ll surely kill me if I do… But wait… What was that above the Cossack’s head? Rainsford did not recall seeing any overhead lighting despite the general’s seemingly apparent wealth. It looked bright, as the fire had…
Indeed it was the fire. It had slowly crawled its way up the walls, burning everything in its path. The ceiling beams looked awfully orange, if Rainsford was seeing correctly…
With a loud crash, the wooden bar above the Cassock came tumbling down at a rapid pace and struck Zaroff with the force of a mountain behind it. He fell to the ground, and Rainsford realized with widening eyes that he was trapped underneath it! This was his chance to escape!
The fire had now spread around the entire room. Rainford tried to stand up, but he staggered and nearly tripped himself. He put his hands out and closed his eyes, even though that was probably not the best idea.
He could hear yelling. The guards were coming; Rainsford heard the loud footsteps drawing ever nearer. If he was going to escape, he needed to now. He saw the candle that he started the fire with on the floor, and he grabbed it and threw it at the Cassock without a second thought. Rainsford dashed to the window as he could hear the general start howling. Immediately, he leaped out when the door burst open.
Rainsford fell. The coarse stone walls of the chateaux flew by his head faster than a cheetah. The ground was rapidly getting closer… and closer…
Crack. When Rainsford hit the rock hard earth, he heard the devilish sound and then felt the most pain he had ever felt in his life. He looked down, and his leg was twisted in such an awkward way that he believed he would never walk on it again.
“Find him!” he heard one of the guards say from the window above. “He killed our general, now we will kill him.”
With what he thought was urgency, Rainsford stood up with the weight on his other leg and tried to run into the forest. When he realized he was not the dramatic figure he thought he was, he slowed practically to a crawl. He limped with the speed of a turtle into the black trees. When he found a tall enough tree that he expected he would be able to climb, he stopped. As much as it hurt, he scaled the tall black tower.
He seemed to be climbing for hours. His broken leg not only hurt him so much, but it also significantly slowed him down; he was only able to use one leg. It also did not particularly help because the tree’s branches were crooked and nearly all far apart from one another.
Ugh! Rainsford groaned in his head. Why would I possibly think this was a good idea? He lost his concentration for a moment and nearly fell, causing his broken leg to hit against the trunk, which made him want to cut his own head off. He nearly bit away his entire tongue to keep from screaming. He knew death would only come faster if he cried out…
He swung up with infinite strength onto one of the highest branches. He sat with his back on the trunk, and he watched with lidded eyes the house burn to the ground.
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