A shadow filled the culvert as something the size of a medium dog began scuttling out, its legs making little tapping and scratching sounds as it dragged its hairy body out of the pipe, to check its net.
Andrew's heart raced as he watched the creature emerge from the culvert, its grotesque form illuminated by the faint light filtering through the fog. It was indeed reminiscent of a spider, but its proportions were far from ordinary. The creature's body was covered in matted fur, and its spindly legs moved with unsettling precision. Its multiple eyes glinted with an unnerving intelligence. Its mandibles clicked and chittered as it assessed him, a predator sizing up its prey.
With cautious steps, Andrew slowly backed away from the creature, his eyes never leaving its form.
Instinctively, his hand fell to his pistol, but he stopped a moment, thinking. What if there were other entities not far off, ones who might be alerted by the thundering crack of gunfire? Andrew swallowed a dry lump in his throat, cautiously scanning the ground for a heavy rock or some such, keeping one eye on the arachnid at all times. In its trap, the dragonfly twitched, buzzing madly. The wristcom on Andrew's wrist, paired with the drone, helpfully alerted him that a feral had been detected in his proximity.
Gee, thanks. Andrew rolled his eyes.
As he slowly bent over to seize a rock, the tense stillness was broken as the spider lifted a leg. Andrew froze in place. Perhaps its eyesight was poor, and it relied on sound and vibration to hunt? Andrew stilled again, and the entrapped dragonfly continued to jitter. The movement attracted the spider, who emerged fully from the culvert and carried itself on graceful legs to the robotic insect. It poked it curiously with the tip of one of those legs. Then Mason's voice came through the dragonfly.
"Andrew? Andrew, respond!" the former Director's voice sounded through the tiny speakers.
Incensed, the spider moved like a streak of lightning, seizing the bug and feeding it into a mouth that Andrew now saw was humanoid and lined with gnashing yellow fangs beneath the chelicerae. The insect popped like a macadamia but in the arachnid's powerful jaws.
Two thoughts came immediately to Andrew. One was that he had never asked, for and never wanted to see a gaping humanoid mouth complete with lolling tongue grafted onto a spider the size of a doberman, and the other was that piece of shit just ate his only means of contact and communication with the party.
As he tried to distance himself from the eight-legged nightmare, however, the back of his ankles struck a taut silk thread. He fell backward with a yelp, landing prone. The spider came to life, racing across the ground and throwing itself onto Andrew.
"Jesus!" Andrew struggled with the beast pinning him, hands gripping the hollow point fangs, dripping sickly yellow venom, and trying to wrangle it away from him as the human jaws snapped eagerly, hot, humid breath rank on his face. The thing was heavy, its weight on his chest making it hard to breathe. He had no leverage. In addition, its legs danced madly, trying to catch and pin Andrew's arms. Andrew jammed a hand into the thing's mouth, lodging a rock in its jaws, and watched in terror as those teeth began to grate on and bite into the stone. One of the extended mouthparts buried a venomous fang into the ground just shy of Andrew's neck. The dirt began to discolor, the unhealthy yellowish tint spreading outward like a blooming flower of decay.
He regretted not just shooting the thing right now.
He managed to get a knee under the bastard's body and lift it up a little, enough for one free hand to go to his belt while the other kept the fangs at bay. He took his stun gun, crackling to life, and jammed it into the underbelly of the hairy beast.
Electricity crackled and surged through the spider's body, jolting its nerve endings and muscular system. The creature convulsed, its limbs twitching uncontrollably as the stunning jolt overwhelmed its senses. The spider emitted an anguished screech, a blend of insectoid and arachnid agony that reverberated through the fog-drenched streets.
Losing its grip on the cop, it fell over backward, legs turned up and twitching. Andrew regained his footing, panting, and stomped on the spider's exposed underbelly. His boot punched through the abdomen with a wet, punching sound, and his foot was mired in the beast's jolted innards. Yellow ichor spewed up, encircling Andrew's ankle, and a gout of blood sprayed from the spider's mouth as it choked and gurgled. Wrenching, Andrew yanked his foot out of the heart's belly as it fell still, legs curling up, and was dismayed to find that the suction had stolen his boot, as though it were stuck in quicksand. Andrew pinched his nose, swooning in the miserable smell of the monstrosity's innards. Unable to quite believe his shitty luck, he took to his knees and began tugging his lost boot out of the spider's fatal abdominal wound. It felt like following out a pumpkin for Halloween. With a final tug, his boot finally came loose, and he was thrown onto his back from the effort.
This was certainly going to make for a colorful police report.
After catching his breath, he shone his flashlight down the culvert, finding that it led deep down into the dark. He heard moans and groans from within, and bit his lip, realizing there might be people alive down there. There was no longer a telescope dragonfly to confirm or deny the presence of human victims strung up in the den. He could only hope another one of the circling dragonflies had recorded and relayed the incident to Mason and the rest of the scouting party. With a deep breath, he crouched and began sinking down the culvert, his steps echoing to accompany the sound of trickling water.
As he stepped into the culvert, the world around him seemed to shift and warp. The fog grew denser, swirling and pulsating with an otherworldly energy. Colors morphed and blended, creating an ethereal kaleidoscope that played tricks on his senses.
The culvert itself elongated and stretched, seemingly defying the laws of physics. The once confining space expanded into a vast underground chamber, adorned with towering crystalline formations that glimmered and refracted light. The walls appeared to be made of iridescent glass, reflecting an array of colors that danced and shimmered with each step.
As he ventured deeper, he discovered that the web he had encountered in the culvert continued here, but in a grander, more intricate fashion.
The spider's web expanded like a vast tapestry, stretching across the chamber in a mesmerizing display of interconnected strands. Each thread glowed with a soft, luminescent light, casting an otherworldly glow on the surroundings. The air hummed with a melodic vibration, as if the web itself was alive, resonating with a haunting symphony.
Within the strands of the web, Andrew caught glimpses of trapped figures. They appeared suspended, cocooned in a delicate embrace of silk. Their forms were indistinct, obscured by the interplay of light and shadow, but he could sense their presence, their silent pleas for help.
Each step felt like a dance, a delicate negotiation with the ethereal threads that swayed with his movements.
As he approached the trapped figures, he realized that they were not ordinary survivors. They seemed suspended between worlds, their forms partially transparent, as if caught in a state of limbo. Some wore clothing from a bygone era, while others appeared as fantastical beings, their features merging with the fog itself.
A chill ran down Andrew's spine as he neared one of the cocooned figures. The form was humanoid, and it swayed like a pendulum to the otherworldly symphony, its body shimmering with a hazy, diaphanous beauty. He thought he recognized it, but the figure was too obscured and faded to be recognizable. In other circumstances, Andrew would have marveled at the strange world unfolding before him. Its artistry and grandeur were breathtaking. But in this moment, he felt only a sense of urgency and dread.
His hands falling on the enclosing silk, he tried nimbly to tug at the cocoon and pull it open. It was tough and pliant, bundled up like this, yet still sticky and adhesive. He heard a sharp hiss as he pulled, and saw that he was tearing skin, as blood trickled down the white webbing, staining it with splotches of red.
"Sorry." he muttered.
With creeping horror, he realized that his hands too were now stuck, drawn tighter into the web the more he pulled. Wrenching, he felt a layer of skin tear wholesale from his palms like tissue paper.
"Fuck!" he swore, clutching his bleeding hands.
It seemed that the webbing became something like a second layer of skin as it affixed to its victims, making removal difficult without injuring oneself.
Andrew stumbled backwards, still clutching his bloodied hands, trying to get his wits back in the face of this new horror. The blood from his hands splattered over a strand of the web, and it turned scarlet, the color slowly spreading through the delicate fabric.
Like blood in water, Andrew thought.
he frantically yanked the gun from its harness and opened fire into the intricate web. It splintered and tore from the bullet holes, shredding like ripped velvet. The echoing boom was deafening.
This wasn't working. More, the crystalline walls ricocheted his bullets, and he felt one whizz past him. This was too dangerous, he could hit one of the victims he was trying to rescue.
Fuck, think! How do I get them out of this web?! he racked his brain.
Perhaps his stun gun could be of use? Did spider web conduct electricity? Even if it did, he supposed he'd be putting the web's captives through some unpleasant voltage in the course of this effort, and he didn't foresee it accomplishing anything. He needed to ignite the strands somehow, burn them away carefully, at least enough to get the cocooned victims out, if freed wholesale from the strands stuck to their skin.
After thinking about it, Andrew came up with an idea. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a lighter.
The tiny flame wouldn't be able to destroy all of the web; it would be a fool's errand to try. But perhaps he could cut the web around each captive person, freeing them one by one?
My flare gun. he realized.
He grabbed the flare gun from its holster, pointed it at the mess of webbing, and pulled the trigger. To his relief, the flare burst through the fabric and sank into its depths, igniting the delicate silk like a spark in a tinderbox.
He watched the mellow flames begin to spread and sunder the thin edges of webbing keeping the nearest cocoon held in place, like watching melting cotton candy.
It's working! he thought.
Unfortunately, his gunshots had roused the nest. Chattering, dozens of dog-sized arachnids like the one he'd killed outside the culvert stirred, and began to climb the web, investigating the disturbance. Hundreds of collective eyes fixed Andrew in their hungry gaze.
Andrew stumbled backwards and fell onto his rear, his eyes darting between the growing mass of the arachnid hoard and the tangled, burning mess of the web.
The arachnids approached hungrily, their legs drumming against the web. Andrew could hear the sound of their legs against the surface, a chorus of angry clicks and taps, like raindrops against an upturned sheet of metal. It was unnerving how quickly they climbed the vast, crystalline structure. Andrew knew he didn't have much time left to free the occupants of the cobwebs, if he wanted to escape with his life.
To his horror, he saw one of them begin to lay fresh silk over the burning strands, reinforcing and mending the web.
Great. He had to clear out all the spiders before he could destroy their web.
Andrew scrambled to his feet and began firing his pistol at the oncoming arachnids. The bullets ripped into their arachnid bodies and tore through them with little effort, causing their carcasses to crash to the ground with a thud. Andrew reloaded his gun and fired more shots, killing a few more spiders.
But they were coming too quickly for him to make a difference.
Andrew pointed his gun once more and held down on the trigger, sending another burst of bullets into the growing spider swarm. He didn't have enough ammunition left for this fight. The spiders were overwhelming him, coming at him from all sides.
He threw the gun to the side and fumbled for his knife, ripping it from its scabbard. Andrew took a deep breath and stepped forward, ready to slash his way through the horde of arachnids. Part of him realized in that moment that simply cutting the web might have worked.
"Come on, you bastards!" Andrew goaded them, as the chamber trembled with the chitinous squeaks of the arachnid's, and the suffering groans of their web-shrouded suspended victims.
The spiders were relentless; their numbers just kept growing. Andrew kept slicing them down, but more would take their place. He tried to get in as many quick kills as he could to thin the spiders' ranks, but they quickly began to overwhelm him. There were just too many of them. The swarm rushed in, their claws slashing and chittering, their fangs bared to bite. The air was thick with their acrid, musky stench.
Eyeing a machete on one of the entrapped victim's belts, Andrew dove between the gnashing jaws of two enclosing spiders, and yanked it free, trading it for his knife.
The machete made quick work of the spiders. Andrew swung it wildly in desperate arcs, hacking through the arachnids and sending them fleeing in all directions.
But the spiders were relentless. They were everywhere, crawling all over him, biting at his clothes and legs. The pain of their bites seared through his body, and the spiders didn't seem to care how much he shouted and fought back. They just kept coming.
He hacked as fast and as furiously as he could, but he was running out of steam. The spiders were too many, too fast, too strong.
He groaned and screamed as he felt holes punched into the exposed parts of his body, hoping that the humanoid jaws lacked their mandible counterparts' venom, which he hazarded a guess was deadly.
"Get off!" he groaned, body creaking under the weight of the hairy beasts as they dogpiled him.
He dropped his last flashbang and hoped for the best.
The flashbang went off with a deafening bang that shocked the spiders off of Andrew. The blast was so loud, it almost broke the man's eardrums. But the spiders had received the worst of it, and they scattered in all directions, their sensitive eyes burned and blinded. Andrew quickly got to his feet. He took stock of the situation, trying to gauge how many spiders were left and how quickly they may be able to recover from their daze.
Suddenly, a trilling voice echoed down.
"Oh, my poor babies~" a woman's voice, sweet and deadly, coddled the remaining spiders. Those that had regained their senses seemingly bowed.
"What the?" Andrew looked up, and saw a pale young woman in a kimono descend into the midsection of the web's canopy on a strand of silk, held in one delicate hand.
Her nails were long, pointed talons, bright red, matching the vibrant color of her pouting lips. A kimono that seemed seamlessly merged to trailing strands of spider silk draped her body, and a fall of raven black hair cascaded down her back. She delicately stepped onto the web, looking down at Andrew with an amused glint in her half-lidded eyes.
An icy pit formed in Andrew's stomach at the sight of the unknown woman descending from the silken canopy. Despite her seemingly harmless appearance, he caught a glimpse of the sharp talons upon her fingers and the dangerous gleam in her eyes. This couldn't be good.
He watched as the woman calmly descended to the web's center, her movements graceful and elegant. Her kimono looked as though it were woven from spider silk, while her raven hair seemed to glitter like black ice in the dim moonlight. As she approached Andrew, the man swallowed his fear and raised his machete in a defensive stance.
Andrew couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.
The woman was more beautiful than any creature he'd ever laid eyes on and yet more deadly. She looked at him with amusement in her eyes that sent a chill down his spine.
"Who… are you?" Andrew asked, the words catching in his throat. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt like sandpaper, and his muscles trembled from the exertion of the battle. "What do you want with these people?"
The woman propped her chin on an upturned palm and looked down at Andrew, a coy smirk on her face. "Little old me? Just your average jorogumo. As for these dears in my web, well, that's fairly obvious, isn't it?" she licked her lips, revealing fangs.
Andrew wasn't sure what a jorogumo was, but this woman certainly seemed far from average. Her sharp nails, her pointed teeth, and her hungry gaze were all signs of a spider-woman who was dangerous, even if she was beautiful.
What was she planning to do with the trapped humans? What was stopping Andrew from rescuing them? And most importantly: could he reason with her?
"Can you let them go?" Andrew asked hesitantly. "They don't deserve to be stuck here."
The woman tilted her head, then chuckled softly, delicately covering her mouth like an upper class Japanese woman hiding her teeth. "Sorry, boy, but I'm a spider. I'm not going to let my prey go just because you ask nicely."
Andrew's heart dropped into his stomach. The woman's words confirmed his greatest fear: she was not going to let him save the people trapped in her web. This woman was a spider-woman, a monster that had no shame in feeding off the innocent and the weak, and he would be powerless to stop her.
His only options now were to run or to fight, and neither option was appealing. He didn't want to leave these people here to their gruesome deaths, but fighting a monster such as this one would certainly be suicide.
"Good thing I'm an idiot." Andrew muttered under his breath. His hand flew to his taser, and he fired the twin barbs at the jorogumo without a second thought.
The woman's sharp, amber eyes flashed in surprise. She screamed and jerked backwards, her hand flying to her neck as the barbs dug deep into her flesh. She writhed and clawed at them desperately, and her delicate features contorted in an ugly display of agony.
The taser was incredibly effective, stunning the woman enough to force her off the web and to the earth with a crash. But Andrew had only a brief moment to take advantage of their window, before the woman came to her senses and began to regain her strength.
He moved forward to exploit the opening - only to nearly fall over himself, his feet stuck in a patch of silk.
Oh, joy. I got stuck immediately after massively pissing off the icky spider lady. Good. Good job, Andrew. Andrew thought to himself.
The jorogumo plucked the darts out of her neck, gritting her teeth, and severed the wires with her claws, dropping the now useless barbs to the ground. She dusted herself off. "That wasn't very polite, now was it?" she said, quietly seething.
She shot a thread of silk toward the ceiling, latching onto the rafters, and slingshot herself up into the darkness out of sight. Andrew had no delusions about the fact that she wasn't beating a hasty retreat.
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"Oh crap oh crap oh crap." Andrew started tugging at his feet, trying to break free of the sticky trap.
As Andrew struggled to free himself from the spider web, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and a chill ran down his spine.
It was quiet. Too quiet. The jorogumo was too fast, too smart, and too deadly to have left it at that. She was planning something. It just didn't take a genius to figure that out.
"Your heart's beating very quickly, little boy. I can hear it, vibrating through my web even from here. Perhaps you're a bit nervous? Tee hee~" she called down from an unverifiable location, the echo carrying everywhere.
Come on come on come on! Andrew tugged at his feet.
He felt a shadow fall over him. The spider lady was dropping from the ceiling, claws poised, fangs bared. Andrew shot his flare gun at his feet, and wrenched, tumbling free of the melted snare at the last moment, falling inelegantly head over heel. He heard a crash behind him, and saw, while standing on his head, the spider woman's talons bury themselves up to the nail bed in the ground.
"Oh, poo, honey, you weren't supposed to move. Let's try this again." the jorogumo licked her lips, then retracted into the rafters again.
Andrew stumbled to his feet, his chest heaving, as the spider woman giggled to herself from the safety of the ceiling.
As though a switch was flipped, Andrew was filled with a surge of adrenaline and anger. He looked up at the woman, his heart still pounding in his chest, his breathing quick and heavy.
"You…!" Andrew started, but the words caught in his throat.
There were so many things to say to the spider woman, so many insults to fling. The words danced on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be released.
He watched the shadow flit about the floor, using it as a place-marker to track the jorogumo's movements, in lieu of being able to see the creature herself.
The woman bungeed down from the ceiling on her thread, claws flashing. Andrew swung his machete to intercept those claws. They clashed, deadlocking. Andrew sweat as he watched 8 red nails binding the machete. The woman smirked at him. "You almost chipped a nail there, dear. Little boys shouldn't play with knives."
Andrew wound up and swung again. And again. And again.
"Just let me know when you want me to take this seriously~" the jorogumo tutted, rapidly, yet casually slashing and deflecting with her talons.
Andrew growled and stepped forward, a claw scraping his wounded shoulder. It gave out at that moment. Although it left him wide open, it worked in his favor, to both combatants' surprise. The machete dropped, nicking the jorogumo's cheek. She gasped, and retracted on her thread.
"Cheeky brat!" she growled.
Andrew whirled in the direction of the woman. He blinked, and tumbled to the side as a column of bright pink haze fell toward him like a compact cropdusting.
Made of corrosive poison.
He heard the floor begin to hiss and melt beside him, and watched the woman hanging above him, jaw unhinged, pink vapor still rising from her mouth.
"Hey! Watch it!" Andrew yelled up at her.
The jorogumo touched a finger to her lip, feigning an innocent look. "What? Flustered that that little kiss I blew you almost hit the mark?"
"Shut your mouth!" Andrew bellowed. "You could have hit one of the civilians trapped in your stupid web!"
The woman blinked again, then began cackling. “Are you serious? Of course I’m going to hit them. Or bite them. Really, the point is that they die, and become nutritious energy for me to utilize throughout the day. You’re really not seeming to grasp this concept, are you?”
As the jorogumo dangled above him, her laughter fading to silence, Andrew pulled the flare gun from his coat pocket once more. He aimed and fired it into the air, the flare rising in a plume of sparks and smoke towards the shadowy ceiling.
The woman dove down toward Andrew again, claws ready to strike again. Andrew swung the machete - and promptly felt it bite into a solid, unyielding object between him and the jorogumo's deceptively slender neck. Two thick circles of webbing, woven in the shape of discuses, blocked the machete. The silk shields apparently sprouted from the woman's palms, their adhesion entrapping the machete. The woman smirked, and opened her jaws. Andrew cut his losses and abandoned the machete, dashing to the side as another spew of venom mist flew past him from the jorogumo's maw.
The jorogumo turned around and pouted at Andrew's again. "Sweetie, you've got to stop dodging, m'kay? Venom is a precious resource for us spiders. Did you know that, even when they bite you, spiders often only deliver dry bites, to conserve venom? It takes like, a whole afternoon for me to replenish. So, if you could do me a favor, and hold still, I'd really appreciate that."
Andrew shook his head, a mixture of disgust and horror welling up inside him at the sight of the woman licking her lips and pouting like some spoiled brat. He was tired of her games, tired of her taunts and her poison and her disgusting, spider kisses. He was tired of being at her mercy.
He grabbed a second flare gun from his pocket, pointed it towards the woman, and squeezed the trigger. Another burst of light and smoke rose into the air, and the web shook violently as the flare ignited the webbing around the woman's palms.
The machete fell from her grip, and Andrew moved to retrieve it. As the woman moved to slash at him, Andrew slid beneath her, catching the machete and taking a swipe at her legs. She retracted out of the way on another tether. Andrew took his stance, eyes darting around, trying to track her shadow. He figured she was probably going to attack from behind again, and even if he was fast enough to whirl on her, she'd just catch his machete in that inconvenient webbing like she did last time. Then he remembered - she wasn't the only one with aerosolized hurt juice.
The jorogumo appeared behind Andrew on a thread again. Andrew whipped out a can of pepper spray, holding it over his shoulder. The woman drew herself another shield of threads, interlocked between her fingers. It did her little good, as the orange spray went straight through the tiny holes in the mesh, hitting her in the eyes. She screamed, clutching her face, and Andrew swung with his machete. The woman still heard him, even if she couldn't see him, and held out a hand to block the blade. Andrew diverted, flinging the machete toward the rafters, severing the thread. The woman dropped on her ass, still clutching her stinging eyes with her other hand.
"Gotcha!" Andrew football kicked her in the face.
The woman grunted as she collapsed to the ground, her hand still clutching her face, still blinded by the pepper spray. Andrew had dealt her a serious blow, but he wasn't sure if she was out yet.
What he was sure of was that he was not going to allow her another chance to attack. Andrew lunged at the blinded woman, grasping her hair and pulling her up to her feet. He threw her to the ground so that she lay on her back, legs and arms splayed and head looking straight up. He straddled her body and pressed a blade against her neck.
"Please just surrender, I don't want to hurt you!" Andrew pleaded, trembling.
His sentiment was rewarded with four talons burying themselves in his stomach, straight through his tactical vest. His breath hitched as he felt his muscles contract. The pain took a few seconds to kick in, and then exceeded his expectations.
Andrew grunted and fell backwards, rolling onto the floor and clutching at his stomach as the pain washed over him in a burning tide of agony. He looked down at his wound, his fingers coming away bloody, and a wave of nausea overwhelmed him.
What the hell? Andrew thought, as the pain continued to wash over him.
Just as the pain began to die down, another burst of pain tore through him. He glanced up at the woman, his blood boiling with rage. She had not surrendered. He had not asked for this. He had been too soft. Too naive, he chided himself.
The woman leaped up into the center of her web again, the silky construct swaying and bouncing a little, like a trampoline mixed with a hammock. She licked the blood from her talons, her eyes bloodshot and rimmed by the drying pepper spray Andrew had nailed her with. It all contributed to make her look violently unstable.
"You won't get away this time." she said, flicking her nails toward the ground.
16 spider threads flanked Andrew on all sides, anchoring into the ground, blocking any retreat. A rat in a trap.
The jorogumo opened her mouth and fired a spray of pink venom mist down toward Andrew. Andrew adopted the fetal position, trying to shield his face and the wound in his stomach as the neurotoxic, corrosive mist enveloped him.
Andrew screamed as the mist seared the back of his throat and burned at his eyes. The pain was unbearable and his mind began to fog as he desperately tried to breathe. His muscles locked up and his lungs contracted as the poison began to take hold. He felt as though he was drowning in a fog of acid. The pain only got worse and tears began to stream down his face as he struggled to breathe and to think.
"You'll numb up shortly." the woman crooned.
She lashed a strand of web to Andrew's chest, then yanked him up to her web. He felt each individual nerve rapidly begin to fade from control, his body undergoing rapid paralysis. The burning pain mellowed out into a sensation of pins and needles that almost tickled.
"Does it feel good~?" the spider woman chuckled, stroking Andrew's face.
She grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head to the side as she unsheathed her fangs, gums sliding back. "Don't move a muscle, love." she growled.
Though he was paralyzed and couldn't even twitch, Andrew felt his heart begin to race as the spider woman unsheathed her fangs. Her touch sent chills down his spine, and he found himself growing lightheaded as she moved in close.
As she drew in closer, he heard her breath catch and her eyes flare with hunger. Her breath was heavy and wet with saliva, and he could tell that she was excited. He was disgusted by her and by what she was about to do, but there wasn't much he could do to stop her.
Andrew's body slowly gave over to the poison, and his mind began to fade as well. The pinprick sensation turned into a pleasant warmth that spread gradually through his body, like someone was pouring warm water over him. The pain subsided, leaving only an odd sense of tingling that spread over him and into his mind.
His thoughts began to grow slow, his mind fuzzy as the poison affected him, and he felt his body begin to give over to numbness and paralysis. He no longer felt any pain, just a strange numbness and a pleasant warmth, almost...nice.
“That’s it, just gently fade away.” she licked her fangs, preparing to deliver a neck-breaking chomp.
Then she stiffened. The temperature in the room seemed to be dropping. The victims cocooned in her webbing were shivering, and she felt her arms break out into gooseflesh. She didn't like the cold much more than she did electricity or the cop's pesky bug spray.
Suddenly, the web began to stiffen and coat over with frost. A sound like the warping of a frozen plastic water bottle began to spread. Soon, the web resembled nothing so much as a giant snowflake.
"What gives?!" the jorogumo looked around wildly, shivering.
Then, the web shattered to sleet.
What the… Andrew thought, still unable to speak as the poison began to take hold. He watched as the woman’s panic grew, before finally he closed his eyes and felt darkness wash over him.
...
Andrew opened his eyes, realizing he felt cold and exposed, his body shivering. That was better than paralysis from poison, he supposed. He tried to wriggle out his fingers and toes, working sensation back into his body by focusing on the sensation of the frigid cold. His stomach began cramping and contracting.
Andrew slowly opened his eyes again, feeling the cold as he took in his surroundings with eyes and mind that still felt fuzzy. He was in an icy wasteland, and the air was so cold that it burned his lungs and his very soul. It felt as though he had been dropped on the summit of a mountaintop in the middle of winter, with not a building or a tree in sight. He stood alone, his body exposed to the elements, and with nothing but the distant cry of a bird or the haunting howls of the wind to break the utter silence.
"How... did I get here?" he slurred.
That's when he noticed he wasn't alone after all. Framed against the full moon, a figure sat on a ledge. Andrew rubbed out his bleary eyes, focusing on the stranger.
She was a Japanese woman with long, vibrant blue hair, flecked with sleet, and matching icy blue eyes. She looked to be in her early 20s, with an athletic and somewhat tanned figure. Her attire consisted of a white t shirt bearing a black crescent moon insignia, and a blue Jean miniskirt, joined by a sash at the waist. Tied to that sash was what looked to be a black katana. The woman regarded the misty winter night air, here in the expanse of wilderness Andrew found himself in without rhyme or reason. In the woman's hand was a long, ornate silver pipe, the smoke flowing from it looking like Arctic fog, and filtering the moonlight to cast the woman in a dreamy, ethereal glow.
Andrew stood transfixed by the stranger, his mind slow and his heart hammering in his chest. He felt as though he were in a dream, his mind foggy and his body frozen at the same time, as he drank in her serene aura with wide, unblinking eyes.
He found his head swimming with questions, so many questions. Where was he? How did he get here? What was happening?
The stranger seemed to take notice of his awe, and slowly she stood up, her arms crossed before her as she stared back at Andrew with her eerily calm, ice blue eyes.
"You're finally awake." she noted.
"And… who are… you?" Andrew slurred, his vision still swimming as his mind and body slowly began to thaw. "What… is this place...?"
His voice grew hoarse as he spoke, and he realized that his throat had frozen along with his body, and that his voice was raw with cold and thirst.
"My name is Chikita. You're in my Backyard." she said, and took her pipe between her lips, eyes studying Andrew with a singular, clinical focus.
Andrew stared at her, his mind muddled with confusion, his throat burning with thirst. Who was this woman? Was she really the guardian of this place, as though she owned all of the land and sky? His head felt thick with questions, his mind filled with fog and his body still weak from the spider woman's poison, and he wanted answers more than he wanted anything else in this moment.
He was so parched that his mouth felt like it was made of cotton as he finally spoke, his voice little more than a hoarse croak. "Your backyard?"
"Is it not to your liking?" she asked, taking a puff.
"Not especially," Andrew croaked, wiping away frost that was accumulating on his eyelashes. "I don't think I'm much of a fan of 'being stranded in a frozen wasteland.' Is that... common around here?"
Chikita chuckled, then pat her lap. "Shall I warm you, boy?"
"I would be deeply indebted to you if you would," Andrew said, feeling the cold pierce into his bones. The frost on his eyelashes turned into heavy ice, and he shivered, feeling as though he had just jumped into the ocean on the freezing winter day, with little more than his clothes to shield him from the elements.
"You have no ear for euphemisms, it seems." Chikita pulled down the collar of her shirt a little.
Andrew's eyes widened as Chikita pulled down the collar of her shirt, revealing a generous amount of cleavage. He realized that he was staring, and immediately felt his face redden with embarrassment.
"Warmer, I imagine, judging by that face." Chikita chuckled. "To answer your question, the Backyards are akin to defined territories within this sea of fog. They are interlocking spheres of influence that occupy the space between worlds. The yards are dictated by the whims of their masters, and reflect their nature. The snowscape around you is a reflection of my own heart."
Andrew raised an eyebrow at Chikita's explanation, still staring at her cleavage. "So this place is a reflection of you… that is fascinating."
He swallowed, his throat still parched and his head still thick with frost. "But… why would you want to keep your heart so cold and barren?"
Chikita raised an eyebrow. "It's remote. Private."
"So why invite me?" Andrew asked.
"Whim. You were next to my mark." Chikita exhaled a cloud of icy smoke.
"Your mark?" Andrew shivered.
"The arachnid who had you and a neighborhood strung up." Chikita said.
"The spider woman.."
As soon as he heard her name, a wave of revulsion rolled over him. A feeling of nausea. A desire for vengeance.
"What… did you do to her?" he felt his blood boiling, his mind still thick and foggy, his body still chilled to the bone, but he felt as though fire were coursing through his veins at the mere mention of the spider woman.
"Killed her, naturally." Chikita answered, smoking pensively.
Andrew's jaw dropped. A wave of shock and surprise washed over him, along with a profound sense of relief and satisfaction. "You... you killed her?"
That's what I should've done in the first place, he thought, with a mixture of self-recrimination and a strong sense of vindication.
"That's right." Chikita answered.
"And... what about her larder?" Andrew asked.
"Hmm?" Chikita opened one eye, smoke flowing from her nose.
"The spider whatever... jorogumo, I guess. She had a bunch of people trapped in her web." Andrew began explaining.
Andrew took a shuddering breath, still shivering from the frost. "Are... they okay? Are they alive?"
A new feeling welled up within Andrew, a mixture of deep concern for the people the spider woman had trapped and an intense need to know if he had somehow failed them. What if they had died trapped in that web of hers, waiting for help that would never come? The thought made him want to scream, to break something, to kick or punch anything in his path. The cold seemed to pale in comparison to his fury now, and he felt as though he were on fire.
"Who cares?" Chikita asked, staring at the sky.
Andrew stared at her, dumbfounded. "They... they were innocent!" He cried. "I tried to save them, but that thing... I was too soft... I should have..."
Andrew's voice broke as his anger turned to anguish. He felt his throat tighten, and he had to fight to keep from losing his composure. "They might be dead, because... because of me."
He could still hear their cries, could still see their faces, their pleading eyes. He could still feel their fear, and the weight of responsibility was crushing him right now.
"It's their own fault they were caught. The weak don't get a say in how they die." she said.
The air grew colder.
"They're... *people*." Andrew felt as though his chest would explode with emotion as the cold continued to spread. "Not... not prey."
Andrew continued to stare at Chikita, trying to gauge what kind of person could show so little regard for life, what kind of person could value strength so wholly, and what kind of person could show such a lack of empathy.
He felt as though he had just been plunged into the icy depths of the ocean again, and the cold was beginning to affect his thoughts and his reason. Chills rolled through his body as a wave of despair began to wash over him.
"You think there's a difference?" she raised a blue eyebrow. "That mentality is exactly what nearly got you killed."
"I... I don't understand you," Andrew said, trying to make sense of what Chikita was saying. "What kind of person are you?"
His mind was filled with confusion, with despair, with frustration, and with doubt. The more he tried to make sense of Chikita, the faster his heart beat, and the harder his thoughts began to spin. She's just as bad he told himself, despair filling him. She's just as cold, just as heartless.
“I’m a survivor. What are you?” Chikita asked.
"I'm a person. I... I don't like having to resort to violence to solve my problems. I'd rather find another way."
He thought about what Chikita had said about there being no difference between humans and prey, about the weak having little value. She just... she doesn't get it, he told himself. There has to be more to life than strength.
"There's... there's got to be something better than... than this," he said, gesturing to the grim, freezing world around him.
"Oh, violence never solves anything?" she hummed, taking a puff. "Then why all those weapons on your belt? Your profession literally only exists to meet force with force. Your very existence is hypocrisy."
Andrew's mind reeled, as Chikita's words sank in. Her last sentence cut like a knife, and Andrew felt as though his world had just been turned upside down. Was she right? Was he a hypocrite for being a police officer? Did that make him just as bad as the criminals that he was sworn to fight?
"Tell me, why was your time with the Chicago police so short-lived?" Chikita asked.
"How do you-" Andrew began.
"Your mind has no defense against my sight in my yard, officer. Speak. Why did they kick you off the force so early into your tenure, back home? Why come all the way here, to the east coast, to start again, hmm? Could it be because you asked too many questions?" Chikita said.
Andrew felt his blood run cold, but he was forced to answer as Chikita pressed him. "I... I was kicked off the force because I asked too many of the *wrong* questions." He gritted his teeth, fighting a wave of shame. "I asked to many about the corruption in the department; how many cops were on the take, taking orders from the mob and protecting criminals. I was getting too close, so I was forced out."
His words were clipped and sharp, and he felt a wave of bitterness wash over him.
"Lucky for you then that the Station Bay precinct was cleared out by the time you arrived then." Chikita mused, dropping from the cliff and landing lightly upon the snow. She walked toward Andrew in a calm, resolute, yet utterly casual manner.
Andrew stiffened, stepping back and reaching for his gun, then remembered it was out of ammo. He put a hand to his can of pepper spray instead.
"Please," Chikita took a puff, "Your hand will be hacked off at the wrist before you even press the button." she blew cold smoke in his face.
"You... you knew?!" Andrew cried, his voice filled with shock and disbelief. "How... how did you know about the corruption in the department?" He felt his legs begin to shake under him, and his heart began to pound in his chest, as he tried to process this information that Chikita had just revealed to him.
He tried to take a shaky step away from the blue haired woman, but as he did so, he slipped on the snow and fell to the ground.
"Oh, dammit!" He cried, as the snow began to seep into his already frozen clothes.
"It wasn't exactly a secret. Well, to anyone but you." Chikita said, hand on her hip. "But I don't need my Backyard powers to tell you that open secret. You know why? Because it's the same no matter where you go. The institutions you put your faith in to know right from wrong, to serve and to protect, to govern - at the end of the day? Just people. And people are all too easily seduced by power." Chikita circled Andrew.
"Who failed to protect you?" Andrew asked.
Chikita tilted her head at him. "What?"
Power corrupts, Andrew thought as he listened to Chikita. In some form or another, no matter who you are, no matter where you are. The people you look up to, the people you put your faith in, the people you expect to protect you - all of them are fallible, and even the most noble among them are not above corruption.
His mind felt heavy, as if a thousand pounds of regret and disappointment were weighing on him. All of those hopes and dreams, all of those dreams for a world made better - were they all nothing but childish fantasies?
"Who failed you?" Andrew repeated the question.
Chikita scoffed. "There you go, snooping around again. Guess you learned nothing from Chicago."
Chikita shrugged, and began walking away.
"Hey, I'm not done talking to you!" Andrew stood up, fists balled tightly.
"The little flies you wanted to save from the web are alive for now. Something of a favor." Chikita said.
"A favor? To who? Some friend?" Andrew asked.
"Who knows..." Chikita shrugged.
The snow intensified, becoming a whiteout blizzard. Andrew awoke, face-first down in the cave where he'd faced the jorogumo and her arachnid kin.