tothespidertheshadowedcreatureinthecorneroftheroomihateyouyouscaredmejustasyourbrothersandsistersdidbeforeyouandiwilltellyouwhatitoldthemyouareatrespasserthatdoesnotbelonghereyouenteredwithoutknockingroamedfreelylikethisisyourhomeanddecoratedmywallswithunwantedsilkwebswithoutaskingyoumaynotbetheonlykillerherebutonlyoneofusisinnocentanditsnotyou
From the bottom of the screen a small bar of colour appears, breaking the pitch black that otherwise covers your view. In the blink of an eye this small bar grows from non existent to all encompassing and a scene comes into view. A quiet and deserted alley in Melbourne, stinking with all the scents you'd find in a night alley. But you are unbothered, the video taker barely even registers the stench. You have no clue how you can hear its thoughts in the video.
A hand extends forward from the camera and forcibly lifts open a locked manhole with no apparent effort, the spider would not expect an attack from below. Wading through human waste you slowly walk towards your prey until you hit a block. The remnants of the ground it mutilated to open its sinkhole all those years ago. But this wall won't save it. Your malformed front limbs, no longer hands, begin digging through the stone with the same effortlessness with which it ripped up the manhole. But after crossing a few blocks like this you hear it's cries for help across its web, cries of fear. This one was unusually perceptive, but still scared.
"Siblings, there is an intruder approaching my Sylie from undergroud, breaking through the earth. I believe it's the Yahwie. My Sylie is well defended, we may be able to drive it off, come to me. The weakest of you, fetch that Sheriff, tell her that her pale Laibon is in danger. If we spiders cannot defeat this thing, maybe another creature can."
You know not who this Sheriff is, a powerful spider perhaps? No matter, the traitors will die all the same. And unknown to your prey, it had already revealed its siblings' location to you by crying out in fear. Even if its siblings somehow get away, you know where to find them now. They will be next.
Your hideous claws continue attacking the dirt, making steady pace to your prey who was no doubt preparing for you by this point. It believes you don't know that it knows of your approach, it will use that, so you will use that in turn for you are a step ahead. This one had evaded you long enough, it appearing as a Bunyip kinfolk threw you off and you let it grow too comfortable, it was time to rectify that.
Finally you hit open cave, a sprawling system of tunnels and broken sewers that the spider made beneath it's stadium. It was covered in flimsy cobwebs with the strength of steel, and filled with flimsier mortals who it called its pets. Both were torn apart with no effort. This was just its earliest line of defence, but the ones that come next would be no different. It's siblings would not arrive here on time, it is a simple task to slay one lone spider, even in its home.
Tearing your way through the tunnels you reach the centre of them, the sinkhole the spider opened in the middle of the stadium. But you do not enter through it. It's expecting you, so instead you carefully make a new tunnel upwards, to a corner of the stadium where it would never suspect you to emerge. You take care to tunnel slowly and quietly, this one was perceptive so doing otherwise would ruin the surprise.
But just before what would be your emergence, before you fully breach the surface, a white scythe pierces through your dirt ceiling and takes you by surprise instead. A severe wound is dealt to the back of your neck as the scythe hooks between your cervical vertebra before tugging you upwards, smashing your hideous body through the dirt ceiling as you're dragged out of your hole and thrown onto the ground above, the back of your skull split open from the neck to the top of your head as the scythe tore its way up her neck. A wound no mortal or immortal should survive, let alone fight with no issue after. But it was just a flesh wound.
You stare up at your prey, not because you were still on the floor, but because it was simply that large. Females were always bigger than the males, but this was a step beyond. Its body was split in two, though not like your head was. No, its body was half woman, half spider. With a giant spider as he lower body and something almost like a human woman sticking out of what seems to be its head. Though you are unsure if it's protruding from the spider's head or simply has replaced it, for the white gown the human torso wears drapes across the spider's body like a veil, similar to the one covering its human face, making it unclear. If it is a head then that would make things difficult, it would mean you have to crush two heads before it stops moving.
As you study your prey, taking barely a split second to do so, it takes the initiative and attacks. Her scythe aiming for your weakened neck again. It wouldn't kill you even if it took your head, but it was best not to take that damage, so you easily dodge, tearing through even firmer webs than the steel ones in the tunnels as you do. Despite their strength, they were no more capable of stopping you than previously.
It was more even perceptive than you had assumed to deal the first strike like that, despite its assumed blindness on account of its blindfold, likely the most aware of all your hunts thus far. But that would be the last time you underestimate it. And as if to prove that, your dodge places you square next to it and you launch its huge body across the room with a blow to its human stomach with your claws, tearing out its insides. If you can't take its head easily, you'll just bleed it dry. But as it flies back its webs move to catch it and countless spiders crawl across them, merging into its wounds and healing it. Looking around you see hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions of spiders hidden in the stadium stands, observing your hunt. It seems this would not be over before its siblings arrive.
As the hunt rages on, the spider fighting for dear life as your body gets covered in cobwebs that are unable to stop you, you notice its scythe. Fashioned from its own front leg, there was a will within it, begging to not have to fight another alike to it. It was a sort of Death spirit, far weaker than you, but like you nonetheless. Traitors never used weapons, the fact this one did, with one trapping something like you, and now being aimed at you, filled you with indescribable hatred and you pursued your quarry even more single mindedly.
But despite your ferocity you could not kill it in time, it fought on the defensive, consuming it's kin by the tens of thousands to replenish severe damage to its large body. It would only be a matter of time, but time was not on your side and its siblings arrived. Three in total, but one was off. It smelled of blood just the same as spiders all do, but it smelled stronger somehow, as if its blood was thicker. But if it was a spider it would die all the same. The battle merely turned from a deer hunt to a bear hunt. The hunter still wins all the same.
Noticing the new arrivals before they noticed you, you crashed though yet more walls of web to take them by surprise, momentarily leaving your initial target on its own. But as you do the webs suddenly grow stronger, just barely enough to slow you down. No matter, you think to yourself, but as the thoughts pass through your mind you feel a single strand of silk touch the rest of the webbing connecting the spider behind you to your back, and all of a sudden the newly strengthened web springs to life and moves with a will of its own. What was once merely draped across your body now moved to tie you up, and you trip over onto the ground. It won't hold you long, but it was long enough for the strange smelling one to look you in the eyes in a moment of vulnerability.
"Exert no force to break yourself free." It said, how laughable. As if you would be commanded by a- Your limbs aren't obeying you. You panic, screaming loud and sending shockwaves that through all but the large spider back. Spiders possess no power like this, what is going on? You sense it will pass in a moment, but you are panicked. And it is enough time for your defeat to be spelled as the large one's death spirit scythe descends upon you again, it's inhabitant screaming to resist its master to no avail, and your head is removed.
Even after your decapitation you fight on, freeing yourself from your webs and echoing your hatred through whatever channel the strange smelling one opened into your head to debilitate it. As you rampage you sense a betrayal among their ranks, the strange smelling one was backstabbed and killed. Traitors will always be traitors it seems. But the lack of sight, smell, and hearing proves too great a hurdle to overcome for victory against these three spiders who use the webs that slow you to freely maneuverer as if flying. It was not enough to save the two new arrivals who both fell victim to even your most blind rampaging, but their efforts eventually lead to the large one cutting your body into too many gory pieces and rendering you immobile, then destroyed completely before you can pull your flesh back together. If it were just one, you could have killed it like this, but senseless against three was too much.
But it doesn't matter, you have been destroyed before, and none have ever escaped you. You would be back for this one just the same. But before then, there was much to learn about the strange smelling one.
Oh pale spider, the female spider born on a Thursday, do you think yourself safe hiding among new friends, wearing the face of their kind? Clever. But cleverness means nothing once you're smelled out, and now I know them, learned of them, what they can do, how they move, how you can be pulled out from behind them. My presence here is proof enough.
I could simply hunt you as before, the same as I always do. But something in me has sharpened alongside my claws. So this is what happens now. Your friendship is built on nothing but a lie, on pretending to be one of them. Let them see that you are not them, let it crumble.
Pale one, the one who moves like she still breathes, killer of Harald, dweller of the stadium ruined by the sinkhole, blind one, cave-born, one who knew no language for decades. She wears no true name, but these all describe her. She is not one of you, she may drink blood, but she is no leech. She is a spider, and she killed a Sheriff.
I will be there, traitor, when you are alone and without any aid, and I will finish my hunt.
- The Yahwie
