Crunch’s roar of anger was muted, choked off, and for a moment, Sa-at thought she was going to kill him as well. But then he saw Crunch’s weighty hands lifting from Eyesore’s face and reaching up for the woman. One grabbed for her clothes, trying to get purchase to pull her off, while the other felt its way towards her head.

It was all too easy to imagine him crushing her skull in his grip.

I should do something, he thought, whilst also thinking: I’m scared!

The woman continued to pull, wrapping her legs around Crunch’s body and clinging on like a spider. Crunch grunted and pulled, pulled and grunted, but he could not prise her off.

Fears rose in Sa-at’s chest, of failing to help the woman with the golden lips, of being captured by Crunch. They raced each other merging together into a feeling of utter panic. Unable to bear it, he rushed forward, certain that he must do something but with no idea what.

Both the woman and the demon were wheezing, the last shreds of breath rattling as they strained against each other. He could see the veins standing proud on the woman’s temple. It was clear she wasn’t going to last much longer. Crunch’s face was too alien to read, the curtain-like lips curled back in a snarl. Perhaps he was close to collapse, perhaps he could endure being strangled for hours.

Sa-at tried to grab the demon’s fingers and prise them off the woman, but he couldn’t budge them. He tried hitting his arms, kicking them, even biting them, but Crunch didn’t seem to even notice, let alone react.

He looked around, desperate for something he could use as a weapon, but nothing presented itself, and then a sly thought came. I could run now. Crunch would never catch me. I could come back in the day for my friends.

The dark of the forest looked inviting, offering places to hide, places where he could feel safe again. But he had promised to help the woman with the golden lips. Why do I keep promising things? Stupid. Stupid.

At his feet, Eyesore had stopped moving, his two remaining eyes staring up at the sky. He was dead. Sa-at crouched down, took a deep breath, and slipped his hand into the middle eyesocket. The gem still glowed within, its light splaying between his fingers. The skin inside was crisped and rough and too hot, but the sides of the tanzanite were smooth and cool. With effort, he started to wriggle it free.

As the woman weakened, Crunch was able to wriggle her free too. Pulling her left, then right, gradually loosening her grip on him, until, with a mighty heave, he lifted her over his head, one hand still clamped on her arm, the other wrapped around her thigh.