Cameraman Never Dies

Liam groaned, pushing himself off from the jagged cave wall as pain lanced through his left arm like lightning, like a sudden burst of thunder on a sunny day. It made him instinctively look down.

His hand had been broken in two and was just hanging there, like a broken puppet with no strings to control him. Each ragged breath he took was shallow but he forced himself onward. The demon stayed suspended mid-air before him, its blood-red eyes were just plain, no color other than red was present. There was no nose, the creepy smile was stretched to both ends of its face, and the smile revealed the sharp teeth that were laced inside.

The creature laughed, and his chuckle echoed throughout the cavern, dripping with mockery. He twisted his head in an abnormally unnatural position, snapping his neck as if he enjoyed the sound. Liam gritted his teeth, his good hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. That monster would not get what he wanted, to be able to see Liam hesitate.

The cavern seemed pulsing with energy as he took a running start.

His legs burned with effort, but he refused to heed the ache. He zigzagged desperately, trying to avoid the demon's gaze. His movements were a dance of determination and desperation, and his broken arm flopped in protest as he sprinted forward.

The demon reached out one clawed hand, sending a volley of crimson orbs hurtling toward him. Each sphere was filled with chaotic energy, and it hissed as it streaked through the air.

Liam ducked low, twisting his body into a roll that sent pebbles scattering. As he emerged, he pushed off the ground and leaped, narrowly dodging an orb that exploded into a fiery burst inches from where he had stood. The heat singed his boots, but he didn't stop. Pivoting mid-air, he spun like a corkscrew, his sword arcing toward the demon.

The blade struck a barrier of crackling energy the demon hastily conjured, and the impact sent jarring vibration up Liam's arm as he grunted and set his teeth.

He used the momentum to kick off the barrier and flipped backward, that agility of the action for one so injured astonished him. He skidded on his boots around the rocky floor as he gained his feet, shifting himself into position to be prepared for the next attack that came.

The demon sneered, raising both of his hands. Black energy tore across the air around it, sharp jagged spears taking on a life of their own and hovering menacingly as they shot toward Liam in quick succession. He dashed sideways, boots scraping across the rough ground as he twisted and turned. One spear managed to graze his shoulder, tearing through fabric and flesh, but he refused to back down, grunting through the pain.

Channeling ether into his legs, Liam pushed off the ground and launched himself toward a stalactite overhead. His boots connected with the rocky surface, and he clung to it briefly, crouched like a predator.

He let out a sharp exhale as he kicked off, somersaulting over another volley of energy spears. He swung his blade downward as he fell, releasing a crescent shaped arc of ether that sliced through the air like a comet.

With another snarl, the demon blurred around to the left to avoid it, but the arc went across the end of its other wing. The demon, now extremely angry, let out a loud roar. Liam wanted to cover his ears, but that was not possible with a broken hand and another one with the sword.
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Liam roared in his own way, a roar that rivaled a child, and charged forward toward the demon who clearly was not in the mood to continue playing.

When he was in range to attack, Liam pretended to go left, then twisted sharply to the right. His blade swished up in a broad arc, but the demon twisted its torso in an unnatural, jerky motion and avoided the attack.

Undaunted, Liam spun around, finishing a powerful kick aimed at the demon's chest. The kick connected, and the creature was knocked backward into a stalagmite with a deafening crash.

Liam didn't waste a second. He dashed forward like a lightning bolt in a hurry to strike twice, leaping onto a boulder and springboarding off it like a kid who just discovered trampolines. The demon, not one to admire acrobatics, growled like a grouchy neighbor and swiped at him with a claw that radiated fire energy so intense it could probably toast marshmallows from a mile away.

Liam twisted mid-air in a move that screamed, "Look, Mom, no injuries!" narrowly avoiding the fiery swipe. With a grunt and determination that could rival a stubborn goat, he swung his sword in a dramatic overhead arc.

The demon managed to save its neck but wasn't quick enough to keep its arm. Plop! Off it went. Now, if losing a limb doesn't ruin your day, what will? Losing a head? Haa that would ruin your life, no I am not joking it seriously would.

The demon glared, its fury was palpable. Then, as if auditioning for a magician's act, it conjured a new arm out of thick flames. Yes, thick flames, the kind that could probably double as a lava lamp if you weren't busy fighting for your life.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Liam shouted, pointing his sword accusingly. "I'm here working with one arm broken and is hanging like a curtain, and you're just over there like, 'Oh, let me whip up a spare!' What gives?"

The demon, showing a complete lack of sportsmanship (and humor), charged at Liam, its fiery claws scraping the ground. The impact sent sharp rocks flying toward him like nature's angry confetti. Liam dodged some with the grace of a dancer, and parried others with the flair of a swordsman, but a few still managed to leave scratches. Nothing major. Yet.

That's when fate decided it wasn't done messing with Liam. A sharp rock, probably thinking it was the main character, sliced through Liam's already broken left arm, leaving him with, well, no left arm.

Excruciating pain shot through his body like an unwanted electric current. Liam opened his mouth to scream but bit down hard on his lip instead. Blood trickled down his chin, but his eyes stayed locked on the demon, whose creepy grin remained annoyingly intact.

Then something shifted. Liam's emotionless face transformed, a small, menacing smile curling on his lips. It wasn't the kind of smile you want to see on someone who just lost a limb— it was the kind that made even demons reconsider their life choices. His blue hair, now streaked with blood, began to glow faintly, and his golden eyes lit up like molten fire. The air in the cave grew heavy, charged with a sense of impending doom.

"Thanks for cutting off the excess," Liam said with a cheerfulness that was somehow more unsettling than anger. "It was getting in the way of me beating you."

The demon's grin twitched— was that a flicker of nervousness? Impossible! It started taunting Liam, as if provoking him to make the next move.

"Oh, you're gonna regret that," Liam muttered, swirling his sword in a move so dramatic it belonged in a swordsmanship manual under the chapter titled Intimidation Techniques 101. With a burst of speed, he closed the distance between them, his sword glowing bright blue as it slashed through the demon's stomach.

Momentum carried him to the opposite cave wall, where he crouched horizontally like gravity had taken a coffee break. Using the wall as a springboard, he launched himself at the demon again, slicing clean through one of its wings. Before it could react, Liam was off again, rebounding from wall to wall like a ping-pong ball of destruction.

The demon flailed wildly, trying to keep up with Liam's relentless attacks. Its head spun one way, then the other, desperate to catch a glimpse of its tormentor. But Liam was everywhere and nowhere, cutting through its defenses and leaving glowing blue gashes in his wake.

Finally, the demon stopped its frantic attempts to track him and let out a low, eerie screech— so quiet it was almost a whisper. Liam's instincts screamed at him to stop. He didn't know what the demon was up to, but he wasn't about to take any chances.

He halted mid-lunge, but it was too late. A sudden blast of force hurled him across the cave like a ragdoll in a windstorm. He careened toward a blood-streaked wall, bracing for impact.

Just before he hit, a man in a white jacket appeared out of nowhere, catching him effortlessly. The man also held Liam's severed arm as casually as someone might hold an umbrella.

"That will be enough, young master," the man said calmly, his voice carrying the weight of authority— and maybe a hint of exasperation, as if this wasn't the first time he'd had to step in and clean up a mess.