Every muscle in Elektra's body locked tight when she smelled smoke. The dark didn't frighten her, nor the possibility of running into enemies who might be using the thick shadows of the labyrinth to hide themselves. Nor was she afraid of fire. It was just - unsettling. That was all. It had caught her by surprise.
With her blades tucked reassuringly against the heels of her palms, she advanced toward the orange-red flash of light that had illuminated the winding corridor. She could hear breathing, faint but present, as well as something small skittering in the dark catacombs.
The skittering seemed to be moving closer, but the breathing was stationary. And it sounded human. Or close enough.
She approached quietly, fingertips worrying the hilts of her knives, footsteps cat-quiet as she neared the light source. Her own breathing didn't change as she rounded the corner. A quick glimpse at the figure leaning against the wall was all she had time for before she saw, across the hallway, a rat the size of a Rottweiler. A mean, red-eyed, demented version of a rat, anyway.
Elektra loosed her blade without hesitation. The light helped; steel briefly caught the gleam of Neville's wand before the pointy embed itself in the rat's skull.