Daryl moved for the rope pulleys, and the ape noticed instantly, lunging forward as a fist the size of a car wheel punched through the air where he had been a moment earlier, the sheer collision of displaced air knocking him off balance.
He dove, slid across dust and debris, and barely caught the edge of a pulley with his fingers as searing pain shot up his arm, but despite the agony he managed to get purchase and jerk hard.
The pulley squealed as the counterweight shifted, dislodging small stones overhead, and the ape roared as it turned sideways to test the sudden change in balance, lifting one massive front paw.
Daryl used that moment.
He wrapped the whip around one of the monster's forelimbs like a lasso and gave a single, mighty pull, forcing the creature to stumble as, for half a heartbeat, its enormous frame wobbled.
That was the opening, and he did not waste it.
He sprinted up a pile of stacked chairs and fallen set pieces, vaulted a gap to the upper catwalk, and felt the building's breath shudder beneath his feet as he tucked his legs and grabbed the railing.
His fingers slipped once, nearly costing him everything, but he threw his body behind the crossbeam, slid hard along the metal, and kept the whip's tail attached to the ape as the creature lost its footing below.
It snarled and pounded the structure, making the catwalk vibrate violently as plaster dust rained from the beams, while Daryl ran along the walkway toward the oldest support, the one with frayed ropes and corroded bolts.
If he cut the wrong bolt, the entire structure could drop, and maybe pin the ape beneath it, but to do that he needed to cut and strike fast, even as his hands shook and his shoulder throbbed where the whip had torn him earlier.
He hesitated for only a fraction of a second.
The ape lunged and slammed a paw through part of the catwalk, driving splinters into his back as pain flared and nearly tore his grip loose, but he forced himself forward anyway.
---
He reached the bolt and worked his fingers around the old metal, finding a rusted loop that yielded under pressure, and when he pulled it broke with a sharp crack like a gunshot.
A chain snapped, a counterweight jerked violently, and the balcony above the foyer loosened as the building creaked like a massive beast about to sneeze.
Daryl kept the whip hooked and yanked hard as the rope burned through his palms, forcing a grunt from his throat while the ape stumbled again and roared, its fury loud, red, and destructive.
It swung wildly as the whip tightened, and the room filled with the sound of tearing metal just before the balcony gave way, not in a slow collapse but in a violent, catastrophic failure.
Massive stones the size of cars plunged downward like meteorites, and though the ape tried to move, its timing betrayed it as the falling weight smashed into its shoulder and upper torso with world-ending force.
Metal screamed, concrete shattered, and the beast toppled, slamming into the stage and rolling as the main support pillar fractured and dust swallowed the atrium.
Tempered lights popped overhead, and for one breath the world became choking silence.
Daryl coughed as his ears rang, staring at the creature pinned and half-buried beneath rubble, knowing immediately that it was not dead and had not given up.
Its hind legs flailed, claws dug into debris, and it sucked air in and out like something trying to breathe through a straw while blood mixed with dust as it reached toward him.
Daryl scrambled down the rubble field, dragging the whip and beacon behind him as ghostly screams echoed around him, pulled apart and shredded by falling debris, while his mind raced endlessly.
He did not need to kill it.
That was beyond him.
He needed to make it immobile.
If he could jam it, wedge it, wrap it, and pin it long enough, maybe the domain would let him live, maybe the system would reward him, maybe he could get the repair points he needed, and maybe he could leave the building and never return to haunted spaces again.
He aimed for the creature's neck, thinking of tendons, spine, and load-bearing joints, and decided that if he could wedge something heavy into its pelvis or lock its movement, he would try.
---
He slammed himself against the ragged pile of debris, ducked under a slab, and pulled as the whip coiled and snapped around the ape's exposed hind leg, tightening violently around the joint.
He yanked, and something popped.
A raw, furious cry tore from the creature, and the whip bit deep into its fur as Daryl reeled backward, scrambled aside, and triggered the beacon.
A bright pulse flared as stored ghosts surged outward like a wave, latching onto the beast while some bled away into the dust, but enough remained to chew at wounds, root themselves into torn flesh, and distract it.
The ape thrashed until its muscles burned and its balance finally broke, and Daryl kept pulling, jerking ropes and cables while guiding the creature toward a narrow opening he had chosen intentionally.
It was a tight funnel.
Through collapsed beams and fallen rigging, the ape struggled but could not force its shoulders through cleanly, and the more it fought the more concrete and wood jammed into its body.
The space closed in as its movements became smaller and more frantic, and when it tried to back out it found it could not.
Its head twisted at an unnatural angle as it made one last desperate swipe for him, but Daryl ducked and darted away, feeling the whip stretch to its absolute limit as it creaked in protest.
He tied the whip to an anchor and ran.
He set a crude trap from improvised pulley rigging, a leftover counterweight, and salvaged bolts, connecting it to a massive stage prop on the far side of the corridor.
It was a brutal, makeshift guillotine of plaster and concrete, and if he dropped it at the right moment it would slam across the ape's back and pin its shoulder to the floor.
This was desperation.
This was risking everything.
And it was all he had.
---
He tripped the counterweight.
The slab fell like a guillotine and struck the ape's shoulder as concrete exploded outward and bone and tendon screamed under the impact.
The creature collapsed flat, shaking violently, and Daryl heard something break deep inside it, a grinding sound like an engine tearing itself apart.
Dust filled the space as the ape's movements slowed, dazed and overwhelmed by pain that radiated outward like a tidal wave.
Daryl looped the whip around the monster's massive forelimb and let out a short laugh, not from joy but from pure relief, as he wrapped rope around the limb and tied it to the broken pillar.
He drove a jagged piece of rebar into the remaining gap, wedging the limb firmly in place as the creature thrashed once and then tried to pull free.
Metal groaned, and the beast's cries stretched long and furious through the ruined theater.
He could have ended it if he had the means, but he didn't.
He had a whip, small tools, and one human body.
So he turned away.
He had to get out.
---
Behind him, the system chimed.
[SYSTEM]
EXP gained: +400
Points gained: +2000
The beacon glowed faintly as the captured ghosts wavered and were drawn back into containment, and his HUD updated moments later.
[Total EXP: 1,650 | Points: 2,900]
It was not enough to buy anything major, not yet, but it was progress.
Daryl breathed deeply as his ribs ached and the reality of how close he had come settled heavily over him.
If the ape had swiped half a second earlier, he would be dead.
If the balcony had fallen seconds later, he would be dead.
If one worn bolt had held instead of breaking-
Too many ifs.
He looked back at the creature pinned in the dust, its crimson eyes blazing with slow, burning hatred as it stared at him.
It could still reach him if it twisted its torso just right.
Daryl did not lower his guard.