The beast bucked hard as the scythe ripped its wound wider, but Asher held his ground. Black ichor burst out in heavy streams, raining down into the endless dark. The creature's screams shook the pit, rolling across every mouth that opened in its flesh.
More chains lashed out, swarming him from every side. One caught his shoulder, another wrapped tight around his waist. They tried to drag him down faster, to bind him to the monster's fall. Asher snarled under his breath and cut them apart, each swing of the scythe sharp and quick. Sparks and black fragments scattered through the air like shattered glass.
The deeper they fell, the stranger the pit became. The walls around them were no longer stone but shaped like ribs, black and huge, curved inward like the inside of some vast skeleton. They pulsed faintly, alive, and the chains ran through them as though they were veins.
