She was in danger.
I sprint across a blasted heath, the most inhospitable land I could ever imagine. A five-headed pyrohydra, each ugly head spewing flame, lumbers towards me. But I insanely fly forward, my grey cloak snapping behind me like my own hound of hell at my back, charging the reptilian monster at full speed. I wield a long flaming staff in my left hand, a scimitar in my right.
The first head spews flame as I reach the base of the hill. I sidestep behind a large boulder, the flames scorching by my unprotected face. Then upward I resume. Another head lashes its ugly head toward me, snapping its long, sharp teeth at my right leg. I jump in the air and bring the scimitar down in a glittering arc and sever the head. I quickly burn away at the stump with the staff in my other hand, cauterizing it so the head couldn't grow back. Another two heads, which I quickly follow the same quick routine, slash, slash, burn, burn. Three down, two to go.
I didn't worry about taking off the other heads. Instead I dodged and scurried until I was right next to the big reptilian body and drove my scimitar hilt-deep into its chest. The two remaining heads shriek in pain and flail about wildly, then slow, then the whole body fell to the ground. Then I turned to her.
She was trying to stand from the stony, unforgiving ground, her long red dress torn from abuse. She sweeps her dark hair away her large brown eyes, which are filling with tears of relief. I sheath my long blade and offer her my hand, but as her hand reaches out, her pale skin begins to turn to smoke. I grasp frantically for her hands, but I'm too late. She's gone. I fall to my knees, a scream ripping through the whole of my body. Defeated.
