Looking for a Husband to Confine Me - Chapter 32.1
Chapter 32.1
Grrr.
Beasts, their minds lost to the demonic influence, drooled, their throats vibrating as they prowled for prey. Their unfocused eyes scanned the surroundings, drawn by an instinct they couldn’t comprehend.
The sanctuary was close, undoubtedly nearby, yet it remained hidden, frustratingly still. Kishan’s magic couldn’t pinpoint the location any further; the rest depended on the beasts’ primal senses.
One by one, they converged on the warehouse, their numbers swelling with each passing moment.
Grrr.
The mindless beasts, saliva dripping from their maws, yearned to sink their teeth into their prey, to quench their burning thirst with the gush of warm blood. Driven by this primal urge, they might tear apart anything in their path.
Boom!
The warehouse door exploded inward, a cloud of wood dust billowing in the air. The scent of their prey, suddenly potent, overwhelmed the beasts. As if on cue, they surged towards the source—the food storage warehouse. Even the beasts within the main building, alerted by the blast and the irresistible aroma, joined the frenzied rush. Growls and snarls echoed as the warehouse filled with their savage forms.
“Run!”
A voice cried out, swallowed by the cacophony of bestial roars. But the beasts paid no heed, their single-minded focus on the prey at the warehouse’s center. They lunged, tearing and ripping, driven by instinct to rend flesh and bone. The intoxicating scent of blood filled the air, sending them into a dizzying frenzy. They instinctively snapped at the softest, most vulnerable flesh.
Sniff?
One beast paused mid-bite, a flicker of confusion in its clouded mind. But the liquid already on its tongue was taking hold, paralyzing its movements. A low whine escaped its throat as its massive body crumpled to the warehouse floor. It wasn’t alone. One by one, the beasts that had gorged on the blood-soaked meat succumbed to the same strange paralysis.
“…Just a little… just a little further.”
I muttered, my gaze darting between the first and second levels of the warehouse. Below, beasts were collapsing; above, Bashar carried the unconscious Kelliard towards the annex.
“Hurry,” I whispered, waiting for them to reach a specific point on the bridge. Even if they didn’t make it all the way to the annex, reaching that point would allow me to run for it without being hindered by the beasts.
From my perch atop a stack of food crates near the entrance to the second-level bridge, I had a clear view of the warehouse below. The plan was simple: place meat dressed like Bashar in the center of the first floor, concealing a ring within it.
Scatter more meat around it, soaked in my blood. While I monitored the beasts, Bashar would carry Kelliard across the bridge. My blood masked Bashar’s scent, a necessary precaution.
‘I told Bashar it was to lure the beasts, but they needed to ingest my blood to be incapacitated.’
The plan continued, detonate the section of the floor connecting to the bridge entrance, leaving only a small portion intact. Then, blow the warehouse doors, drawing the scent-driven beasts inside.
I would keep them contained, tossing more meat as needed, until Bashar reached the designated point. Then, I would make my move. As anticipated, the beasts remained fixated on the first floor, drawn by the potent scent, most collapsing after consuming the bait.
“This should be enough.”
Bashar had reached the pre-determined spot. It was my turn to move. He had insisted on going together, arguing it was safer, predicting the beasts would focus on the ground floor.
“Oh no, that won’t do.”
I clicked my tongue as a beast, untouched by the poisoned meat, lunged towards the bridge entrance. I leaped from the crates, landing on the beast’s back. With all my weight, I plunged the dagger into its neck, not forgetting to nick my thumb and let my blood flow onto the wound. The beast stiffened, the poison rapidly taking effect.
“…I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t think of a way to subdue them without killing them, not with them trying to tear me apart. As I turned towards the bridge, a chilling sensation ran down my spine. I spun around just in time to see another beast charging.
‘Too late this time?’
My footing, unsteady from the previous struggle, gave way. I stumbled, instinctively raising my bandaged left arm, bracing for the impact. The beast’s jaws gaped, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. I wondered if my arm would remain intact when suddenly, my right hand, the one gripping the dagger, moved on its own accord.
