Ayaka's heart jackhammered against her ribs, gritting her teeth so hard her jaw hurt. Her fingers tightened around the copper rods, knuckles white. The stench of gasoline saturated the air as the vampire's footsteps echoed closer slowly, sniffing the air, drawn to the scent of her blood like a hound in a slaughterhouse.
With a deep, trembling breath, Ayaka jammed the two wires together again.
Crkk—tch!
A tiny spark flashed. Barely visible. But it was enough.
Flames ignited with a hiss, slithering down the petrol-soaked cloth like a serpent unleashed, weaving through the shadows toward the trap room.
Ayaka pressed herself to the wall, praying that this worked. The gasoline had been poured generously, and the fumes had long since contaminated the air. The moment the fire touched that deadly mist, the whole trap room combusted.
WHOOMPH!
