James Dashner - The Eye of Minds

“Please have a seat,” Skale said, gesturing to the wooden chairs. “I’ll go and ask our friends to join us.”

Michael was having trouble putting everything together. He was foggy from sleep, and though his pain had disappeared, he still felt weak from the episode—the pain and the hallucinations were at the front of his mind. And now he was supposed to be readying for a battle with demons? What did Skale mean, that they were always here? Shaking his head, Michael sat in a chair, wincing at the sound of the legs scraping across the floor. Maybe somehow they could hack their way out of trouble this time before it began.

Sarah sat beside him. “We have to think. He said that we’d already been given all the information we need. Can you remember everything else he said? I think it probably has something to do with the prayer before dinner.”

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, yet for the life of him he couldn’t remember a single word. “But all I can remember is the stuff about Kaine.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Michael leaned on the table and put his head in his hands, closed his eyes. Probed the surrounding code. “I don’t see anything that can get us past this yet.”

“I’ve tried a few times, too.” Sarah tapped her fingers on the wood. “He said something in his prayer about kneeling at the feet of our ancestors. I’m sure that’s a clue.”

Michael nodded slowly as she spoke. “Maybe. It’s so weird how closed off the code seems in this place. On the Path.” He wanted to pound the table in frustration.

Gunner Skale came though the doorway, ending their conversation abruptly. And he wasn’t alone. One by one the animal creatures they’d met earlier made their way in after him. They flew and crawled, slithered and walked. The bear, the goose, the tiger, the dog, the squirrel. A dozen others. And with them were the smells of the forest—of earth and mold and rot.

The creatures filled the room and gradually arranged themselves around its perimeter, each with its back to the wall, each with its eyes glued on the two visitors in their chairs. An uncomfortable silence filled the air, broken only by an occasional snort or growl. And to Michael, every single creature looked like it wanted nothing more than to eat him for breakfast.

“What’s going on?” Michael asked Skale, surprised to find that he was whispering. He cleared his throat and spoke louder. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be sacrificed to the great animal god in the sky?”

Skale took his time crossing the room and stopped beside Michael’s chair. Michael craned his neck to see the man’s face, buried deep in the red cloak.

“Because,” the man said, “that’s exactly what’s about to happen.”

Michael shot to his feet, sending the chair crashing to the floor behind him. But before he could do anything, the old man said two words that made Michael’s blood turn cold.

“Demons, arise.”

Gunner Skale had been right that the demons were with them from the beginning. They were the animals.

The first one Michael noticed was the bear. It opened its enormous jaws and let out a deep, rumbling bellow toward the sky. Then its fur and skin began to peel backward, like wood shavings curling in the heat of a flame. Beneath its skin was a hideous, scar-covered face, and its eyes had changed color into an impossibly bright yellow, just like the eyes he’d seen out in the forest.

Gradually the rest of the creature’s body emerged from its furry disguise. Bulging muscles, hunched back, protruding shoulder blades, clawed paws—it looked nothing like the bear that had served him dinner only hours before. A guttural snarl escaped its lips, which were pulled back from enormous teeth. But it had yet to move. It remained standing, back to the wall.

Michael was mesmerized by the transformation. And now the rest of the animals were going through the same process as the bear, skin folding back to reveal terrifying, skinless demons of all shapes and sizes.

“I thought you were here to help us,” Sarah said to Skale, who stood there unmoved by the turn of events. “What’re we supposed to do?”

“Helping you is exactly what I’m doing,” Skale said, his voice now oddly happy. “Facing your demons will change your souls forever. And your VirtNet deaths will send you back to the Wake. You’ll be saved from being trapped in this place like I have been. May your ancestors be with you, my son, my daughter.”

Michael eyed the door and, sure enough, two demons blocked the way. Somehow he and Sarah would just have to barrel through it. He grabbed Sarah’s hand, not willing to wait to see what came next—there was only one thing to do.

Michael lunged and grabbed Skale by the cloak, twisting him around until his arm was wrapped tightly around the man’s neck. Skale choked out a cough. The demons reacted as one—roaring, they stepped forward. Now they were angry .

“Back off!” Michael shouted, hoping the beasts understood him. “Come any closer and I’ll snap his neck.”

Michael had to survive the Path to get to Kaine. And he wasn’t going to let these demons kill him and end his only chance.

“You’re insane,” the man said to him through clenched jaws. “You don’t understand what you’re—”

Michael choked off his words with a tighter squeeze. “Shut up.”

The monstrous creatures had stopped their approach. They stood, hunched and twisted, around the room, every one a nightmarish sight, only moments from attack.

“Michael,” Sarah whispered. She seemed to reconsider what she’d been about to say. “Just…” She raised her voice. “Just make sure you kill him quick when you do it. Break his neck nice and clean.”

Michael fought to hold back a grimace. “Will do.”

He backed toward the door, dragging Skale along as the man struggled to stay on his feet.

“Don’t think I won’t do it!” Michael yelled at the demons. “You let us go and I’ll set him free—otherwise he dies!”

It seemed absurd, but just as they had in their animal forms, the creatures seemed to understand him. A low rumble began to fill the room, a deep growl from the terrifying group, and with every step Michael took backward, they stepped forward.

He glanced back at the door and saw that the two demons guarding it had actually moved to allow a path to the exit. The smallest kernel of hope sprang up—so far his plan was working.

“Don’t come after me,” Michael warned when he reached the door. Skale struggled to free himself from Michael’s hold, but Michael squeezed tighter and he stopped.

Michael backed out the door into the dark, perpetual night with Sarah at his side. As they inched away from the building, he turned to her.

“Get him to talk,” he said.

Sarah nodded. “You said you knew how to get to the Hallowed Ravine. How do we do it? Does the Path continue from here?”

“I’ll tell you nothing,” Skale said through struggling breaths. “For your sake, not mine. Nothing.”

The demons had gathered at the door, their glistening, bloody bodies packed closely together, staring out at the three humans. Those yellow eyes gleamed with anger, and Michael thought he saw doubt welling up in them as well.

“Talk!” Michael yelled. “Talk or you’re going back to the Wake!” He shook the man as he spoke and heard him gag the slightest bit.

But Skale said nothing. Panic lit up inside Michael. He was bluffing, that was the problem. What good would a dead Skale do them?

Michael didn’t know what else to do. He started dragging Skale farther away from the house. The man was heavy, and Michael’s muscles ached from the strain. Sarah stayed beside him, nervously looking from the demons to Skale and Michael.