Battle Out of Time

by Dwight V. Swain

A tearing sound, this time.

The next instant, Burke tumbled to the floor.

And that didn't make sense, because he still gripped the Minotaur's great horns.

Spasmodically, he threw himself to one side and over.

Across the room, the whole length of the tapestry was in flames now, blazing and crackling. Eddies of fire danced along the cypress beam above it, and the door-frame.

In front of it stood the Minotaur.

Only now, the Minotaur had no head.

At least, not the great bull's head. That was gone, torn away, left to lie like a hideous mask on the floor midway between Burke and the creature.

Where the bull's head had been, atop the monster's mighty shoulders was now, instead, a human head ... the tiny, distorted skull of a microcephalic imbecile.

And on top of that head—eyes glittering balefully; tentacles hugging it tight to its host's skull—squatted what appeared to be a jet-black octopus slightly less than the size of a bowling ball.