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Chapter 35: Threads of Sundries

Chapter 35: Threads of Sundries

Plumes of smoke dropped from the ceiling, covering the hall in a thick haze. The string quartet fell into silence and was replaced by the shrieks of unsuspecting guests. I began to panic, unsure of the direction I needed to move. Almost in response, a path cleared through the smoke.

I darted through the path as it corkscrewed around guests and obstacles. Eventually, reaching the hallway leading me to Bert and Durella. Blocking my cleared trail was a floor-to-ceiling wall of thick white smoke. I pressed against it, attempting to push through, but the smoke felt harder than stone.

"Whoops, sorry about that dude," Leif's voice called from the smoke surrounding me.

A small hole opened in the wall, perfectly me-sized. After I passed through, the wall seamlessly filled its broken space.

The smoke tunnel led me to a long hallway adorned with paintings and statues of the DeBrazier family line. Each DeBrazier member was more of a specimen than the last, each equipped with gorilla-like muscles and a shit-eating grin. The canvas of the final portrait was ripped and thrown to the ground, leaving the frame still on the wall. Past these familial accolades, I finally found my distressed team members.

Durella hung suspended in the air while an eight-limbed automaton spun her in place. Each spin covered her more in the spider's sticky webbing. A white bundle flexed and pushed on her side, bouncing on the suspended webbing but never breaking free.

Durella's mouth was sealed shut, but her eyes locked on me with a clear sense of urgency. Unwilling to let either suffer any longer, I stepped forward, attempting to cut them free. Her eyes widened as I approached, and I suddenly felt the floor fall from beneath my feet.

An unseen force launched me into the air into the webbing right beside Durella, strands bouncing as it adjusted to my weight before slowly halting. The mechanical spider stopped wrapping Durella momentarily to glance at me before continuing its mission.

The webbing was tacky but seemed stronger than steel. I was limited to barely an inch of movement and could tell that escape was impossible, even with Bert's increased strength. Fortunately, I didn't have to escape the webbing. Just destroy it.

Turning my wrist, I grabbed onto the webbing and began to disassemble. Breaking each connected joint until the web was rendered into sticky confetti. The three of us and the metal spider dropped to the ground. Using my pointer and middle finger, I disassembled a line on Durella's bindings and the sleep pod Bert had been forced into. Six arms ripped through the seam I had created, and Bert, terrified and covered in sweat, pulled himself out, gasping for air.

"You took too long." Bert managed to let out between panicked breaths.

However, my allies weren't the only one's recovering. The spider had slammed into the stone floor, legs slipping out from beneath it. But it had managed to stumble back, charging me to finish what it had started. I reformed its webbing into a thick sheet and caught the automaton mid-lunge, wrapping it several times until it fell as a perfectly circular white ball.

We stood for a second, observing the sphere bounce in place.

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"Is... that it?" Durella asked.

In response, one of the mechanical legs shot out of the wrapping, scrambling to get a hold of whatever it could.

"I figured that would happen," Bert said, picking himself up. "Since it could move on its own webs, I assumed it wouldn't make a great cage."

"So what now?" I asked.

The other two looked at me, then back at the trapped spider.

"I have an idea," Durella chimed in.

Each of us placed a foot on the back of the bundled arachnid, Bert placing three, and pushed until it slid into a hole I had deconstructed in the stone floor of the mansion. As it hit the bottom, more legs spilled out of the spot it had torn through.

It scuttled up the sides of the hole, digging its metal legs into the stone walls. Before it could reach the surface, I resealed the stone floor, which was met with a satisfying clank.

"I need to get back to the party," I said, bundling up remnants of the sticky silk still stuck to my doublet.

"Hold on," Durella said. "Looks like the party might be coming to us."

She held her glasses down at the tip of her nose, tracking something moving down the corner of the incoming hallway.

"Hide, now," Durella called out, placing herself behind a hulking marble statue of Berthold's great-grandfather.

A set of extra arms and legs jetted from Bert's body as he scuttled up the hallway walls, tucking himself behind a tapestry on the wall. I pulled out a bundle of pitch cloth from my cape and reformed it to cover my person. Then tucked myself away in the corner of this pathless hallway. A few moments later, we could all hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet sprinting down the hallway.

Daburu, or a third of him at least, sprinted down the hallway as fast as his child-like legs would allow him.

"Guys!" Daburu called out. "Guys, where are you?!"

From behind the statue, Durella stuck out her hand to stop Bert and me from revealing ourselves.

"That's far enough!" A voice called from behind Daburu.

A man in servant's attire walked in Daburu's wake. He was marked with scars and walked confidently, like someone who had no quarrels with fighting.

"I'm sorry, I think there's a mistake." Daburu lied. "I'm looking for my partne- I mean daddy. Yeah, I'm looking for my daddy."

His height may have sold the child-like appearance, but the gritty smoker's voice that Daburu retained made this farce all but pointless.

"Well, that's too bad," the stranger said. "Why don't I help you find them, little guy?"

Daburu stepped toward the stranger, confident in his lie and unsure of his next best course of action. But, as he stepped closer, the stranger whipped his arm forward, and a crimson rope jetted from his arm, wrapping itself around Daburu's tiny form.

"You knew my friend's name," the stranger started listing as they tightened the rope around Daburu. "There were two identical versions of you creating chaos even before the building was on lockdown, and most importantly, you sound like you're in your forties. Did you really think I'd believe you were a child?"

"I mean... people come in all shapes and sizes."

"Right," the stranger replied, unconvinced. "We'll see if someone from the crafters can't get more information from you."

In response, I threw the pitch cloak off of myself, gaining the attention of both Daburu and the attacker.

"Boss!" Daburu shouted out.

"Shut your mouth," I replied.

"Oh great! It's you! Just follow me right this way and-"

Before he could finish, Berthold dropped from the ceiling. One set of arms lifted the security off the ground in a full nelson while the other set tried to get hold of the rope wrapped around Daburu. However, as Bert's hand gripped the binding, it slipped right through, stained with blood.

Daburu's bindings released themselves as the stranger focused his attention elsewhere. Streams of blood whipped around aggressively, leaving cuts on Berthold and the stone floor around him. Bert lowered the stranger, wincing from the cuts against his forearms and back. He turned toward Bert, manipulating his blood into a massive spear, pointing the tip toward his multiarmed attacker.

"We don't need to keep all of you." Carrion threatened Bert.

I calmly stepped between the two, outstretching an arm wrapped tightly in a white cloth.