The settlement loomed ahead, barely visible through the dense mist clinging to the forest. It wasn’t much—just a scattering of wooden structures, some leaning precariously as if the swamp had tried to reclaim them. Faint torchlight flickered in the distance, casting eerie shadows that danced on the waterlogged ground.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Vance muttered, his voice low.

Rook grunted in agreement. “Stay sharp. This place might be as abandoned as it looks, but something doesn’t sit well with me.”

James adjusted his grip on his makeshift weapon, a crude club he’d fashioned from a fallen branch. The weight of the shard in his pocket felt heavier with each step, as if it were responding to the ominous air of the settlement.

“Do we really want to stop here?” Derrin asked, shifting the child in his arms. The little one had fallen asleep, her breaths shallow but steady.

“We don’t have much choice,” Rook said. “We’re low on supplies, and the kid needs rest. Even if it’s dangerous, we have to take the chance.”

As they approached the first structure, a dilapidated hut with moss creeping up its walls, the group slowed. Rook motioned for them to stay back as he stepped forward, his axe ready. He pushed the door open with the handle, and it creaked loudly in protest.

The inside was dark and damp, but empty. Rook stepped aside, nodding for the others to follow.

“It’ll do for now,” he said. “We can take shifts keeping watch.”

They filed in cautiously, the floorboards groaning under their weight. The air was thick with the smell of mildew, and a single broken window allowed a faint breeze to stir the stagnant air.

James dropped his pack in a corner and slumped against the wall. His legs ached, and his head still throbbed from the encounter with the voice in the forest. He watched as Derrin gently laid the child on a tattered blanket Vance had pulled from his pack.

“We need to talk about supplies,” Derrin said, his voice cutting through the silence. “We’re almost out of food, and what we have left won’t last more than a day or two.”

The group exchanged uneasy glances.

“We can’t stay here long, then,” Vance said. “We’ll have to forage, maybe hunt if we can find anything that isn’t trying to kill us.”

James frowned. “And if we can’t?”

Rook leaned his axe against the wall and crossed his arms. “Then we move. We’ve made it this far. We’ll figure it out.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The discussion lapsed into silence as everyone settled into their own thoughts. James couldn’t help but feel the weight of their situation pressing down on him. Every step forward seemed to bring more danger, more uncertainty.

The quiet was broken by the sound of something skittering across the roof. Everyone froze.

“What was that?” Derrin whispered, his eyes darting to the ceiling.

Rook grabbed his axe and motioned for everyone to stay still. The sound came again, louder this time—scraping, like claws dragging across wood.

“Stay here,” Rook said, his voice low.

“No way,” Vance hissed. “We stick together.”

Before anyone could argue further, the scraping stopped. The group tensed, their eyes scanning the room as if expecting something to burst through the walls.

Then came the laugh.

It was high-pitched and chittering, echoing through the hut and sending a chill down James’ spine.

“Strange little travelers,” a voice hissed from the shadows.

James’ blood ran cold. It was the same voice he had heard in the forest—the same mocking tone.

“Show yourself,” Rook demanded, his axe raised.

A figure emerged from the darkness, its form half-hidden in the shadows. It was one of the intelligent spiders, its legs clicking softly against the floor. Its many eyes glinted with a sinister light, and its mandibles twitched in what could only be described as a smile.

“You shouldn’t be here,” it said, its voice dripping with amusement. “This place is ours.”

“We’re just passing through,” Rook said evenly. “We don’t want trouble.”

The spider tilted its head, as if considering his words. Then it let out another chittering laugh.

“Trouble finds you, whether you seek it or not,” it said, its gaze shifting to James.

James felt his stomach drop.

“You carry something… precious,” the spider said, its voice low and hungry. “Something that doesn’t belong to you.”

The shard in James’ pocket grew cold, and he instinctively gripped it through the fabric.

“Leave him alone,” Derrin said, stepping forward.

The spider turned its gaze to him, and for a moment, it was silent. Then it laughed again, a sound that grated against James’ nerves.

“Bold. Foolish,” it said. “But entertaining.”

Before anyone could respond, another voice cut through the air—a deeper, more commanding tone.

“Arathis, enough.”

The intelligent spider flinched, its laughter cutting off abruptly. From the shadows, an even larger spider emerged, its body covered in gleaming black carapace. Its eyes burned with an unnatural light, and its presence filled the room with an oppressive weight.

“Return to the nest,” the larger spider said.

The smaller one, Arathis, hesitated, its gaze lingering on the group. Then it let out a low chuckle.

“Strange little travelers,” it said again, backing away slowly. “So strange… and so fragile.”

It disappeared into the shadows, leaving only its laughter behind.

The larger spider fixed its gaze on the group, its many eyes unblinking.

“You have no place here,” it said. “Leave, or you will not leave at all.”

With that, it turned and followed Arathis into the darkness, its massive form vanishing as silently as it had appeared.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

“We need to go,” James said finally, his voice shaking.

Rook nodded. “At first light.”

No one argued.

As the group settled into an uneasy silence, James couldn’t shake the feeling that their journey was only growing darker. The Veil’s shadows were closing in, and it was only a matter of time before they found themselves completely ensnared.