The rough stone bit into my palms and my calves burned from exertion. My heartbeat echoed in my ears as I scrambled up the cliff with fading strength. I leaped and pulled, my fingers biting into nearly invisible outcroppings. I didn’t spare a moment to glance down. I pushed away my terror, focusing only on the stone wall. Nothing else mattered.

Nothing else was real.

Far below me, an angry roar was progressively getting louder. The steady tempo of claws shattering rock echoed through the cavern and I could feel a faint vibration when I pressed my palms against the cool rock. I closed my eyes and let out a long breath, before looking up and continuing my climb.

I could see light far above me. It was still distant, no more than a faint white glow, but it was growing brighter. It was impossible to know how much further I would have to climb, nor when my pursuer would arrive. The only thing I knew was that I had to climb until I either reached safety or became lunch for something higher up the food chain.

After about fifteen minutes, I reached another ledge. I took a minute to rest and drink a few sips of water. My heart was racing, and it refused to slow, no matter how much I concentrated on my breathing. I had covered more ground in the last few minutes than I had during the early hours of my escape. It wouldn’t be enough. The light above me was growing brighter, but I had yet to close even half the distance.

I would have to be faster. Below me, the sounds of sharp limbs tearing through rock continued to grow louder. Big Momma needed no rest, her arachnid limbs did not tire and moved with mechanical strength and precision.

I pressed myself against the rock to continue my ascent when everything went still. The roars had quieted, and sharp limbs no longer tore through stone.

Had she stopped chasing me?

I stayed still for several moments and was just feeling relieved when a blood curdling howl cut through the gloom. She was climbing again. This time she was coming faster, and the impacts of her claws on the rough stone were like the booms of attacking cannons. I fled.

My arms moved like lighting, no longer taking the time to search for safe handholds. Blood flowed down my fingers, slickening the stone. Still the spider gained on me, the light above growing too slowly.

The glow of the bioluminescent lichen bathed everything in pale, shimmering green. It felt like being trapped at the bottom of the sea, the surface visible but unreachable. Far below me, movements were just beginning to become visible through the gloom. The howl drowned out everything else, even the beating of my heart.

“This can’t be real, this can’t …”

Over and over I repeated the mantra. My mind had fled, but my bloodied fingers continued to clasp at stone. I climbed with the reckless abandon of the damned, leaping up the cliff rather than carefully making my up the plentiful handholds or carefully around fissures and ledges.

I don’t know how long it was before my hands came down on a flat ledge and I pulled myself into an open cavern. Bright lights blinded me. Artificial, I realized. The bulbs of numerous spotlights were trained on my position.

Was I saved? Had this all been some terrible nightmare?

A ball of webbing struck my foot, pinning me to the ground. I reacted on instinct and flooded the adhesive substance with a jet of venom from each hand. I was able to roll away, just as a sickle-like claw slammed into the stone, inches from my head.

Gwerlum stood over me, staring down with countless shiny black orbs. Her limbs arched backwards, tightening like the string of a bow. She howled as razor tipped limbs launched forward.

I spun to the side and activated Arcane Shield but fell to the ground as a string of silk wrapped around my legs. I tried to roll away as I attacked with an unrelenting stream of Arcane Missiles. The creature reared back, covering her sensitive eyes with armored limbs. I attacked until my mana was nearly dry, and I drained it completely with a final, pitiful Arcane Bolt.

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I looked up but found only empty shadow. I heard the monster’s screech growing further away and looked around in confusion. The spider had fled. Hah, that’s what you get!

I let out a whoop of triumph, “Take that you piece of …”

I felt something whizz by my face, drawing a line of blood. I looked around in confusion, only then did I register the sound of gunfire. Behind me, a steady flash of automatic gunfire was visible even against the intense glare of the floodlights. 

Had the military finally arrived to set things right?

I turned back to look at the spider matriarch, hoping to see her demise. She waited at the edge of the cliff, her body mostly hidden in shadow. Thick streams of ichor ran down her limbs, and heavy pools of it gathered on the stone floor. She still howled as bullets tore into her flesh and shattered chitinous armor. She paused her flight to look back at me, many of her eyes now nothing but mush and gore.

I could see a promise in the remaining orbs. I had been hers and would be again. She seemed almost to grin as two large pincers on her mouth drew together into a V shape and a curved tail lifted behind her. I gasped, looking down to find a long barb buried in my stomach. Already, I could feel the flesh beginning to blister. My head was growing heavy, and my vision became hazy.

I collapsed onto my knees with a scream. I looked up just in time to see a shadow disappear back into the darkness below. Gwerlum had fled, but not before she had taken revenge. I hoped the spiteful bitch died, feasted on by her own brood.

I fell forward onto the cold stone. There I found the peace I had been craving.

***

“You’re a man now,” I heard a familiar baritone.

What? Where am I?

I turned around to see my father’s face, clean-shaven and strong jawed in a way that I was always envious of. I had inherited my mother’s fair skin, oval face, and softer features. At least I’d gotten my father’s height.

A dream? This had happened years ago.

“I’m sixteen Dad,” I replied, “I’ve been a man in many cultures for years now.” I held up a brand-new license to prove it.

“Well, not in this one kiddo. Talk to me when you can vote, or drink … or have kids of your own.” He smirked with his trademark half smile, “Well, let’s hold off on that last one.”

“And what makes you think I haven’t done those things already ... well maybe I haven’t voted.”

He clapped me on the shoulder and laughed. “You’d break your mothers heart if that were true, but you come to me if you ever have any problems, okay? I know I haven’t been around much, but it’s not because I don’t want to be.”

“I know, but you know I’m just joking. I’ve had like three beers in my life … and no need to worry about the other stuff.”

He looked at me quizzically before continuing. “Look,” he said, “I wanted to give you this.” He held a shiny pair of keys on a leather cord stamped with the letter “8.”

I immediately grabbed them, looking towards his old ’68 Chevy pickup. “It’s mine?” I asked.

I shook in anticipation. I could hardly contain my excitement. It took all I could to hold myself back from sprinting straight to the truck.

“I left something else for you in the back. Your grandfather’s old jacket from the war. It’s one of the few things he left behind, I think he’d want you to have it.”

We walked over the truck together. My father ran a hand along the bed of the truck with a faraway look in his eyes. He’d always loved that truck. It had been a part of his family for longer than I’d been alive.

I wish he still were … I miss you.

“Well,” my father said. “Care to take the old man for a spin. See what this old beauty’s got?”

I answered with a grin and leaped into the driver’s seat. I slammed the door as the key slid into the ignition I was immediately greeted with the soft rumble of a well-maintained engine. I ran my left hand around the steering wheel and reached down with my right to put her into gear.

“Well, old man,” I said, “Are you coming …”

I heard a soft gasp. I looked out at my father who was clutching his chest, a dribble of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. A mass of writhing black had erupted from his chest and was spraying blood through the open door and into the cab of the truck.

No ... this wasn’t right. Dad!

The world immediately exploded into movement as the truck, pavement, and even houses began to be drawn upwards. They sky burned with a fiery redness, and thousands of black wings darted between dark clouds. At first, I thought they were birds, but they were too large. As a group of them dived towards the truck I finally saw them for what they were. Monsters.

The creatures were made from lumpy, tumorous flesh full of lesions and gaping wounds. Some clutched people in their spindly arms, dropping them from great heights or devouring them with twisted jaws. A group of the abominations had surrounded my father and pulled at his limbs as they fought amongst each other for the biggest morsels.

Above it all was a massive eye full of flames and swirling vortexes of black energy. It was watching me, waiting. I could feel a connection to it, like it was trying to tear away at my soul. It sought not to consume me, but to change me. Mold me. It wanted me to see.

Open your eyes … see me.