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‘Well, you should have thought of that before you stole from me. I am too weak to defend us now. I’m going to give you whatever I have left and then you are going to slaughter this little bitch.’
‘How?’ Was all I asked, and a small smile twitched on his face.
‘Kill it with fire.’ He said before he shoved an enormous amount of energy down the line.
My back arched against the sudden flood of power. My muscles sang and my bones shifted from the force of it. My entire body contracted, and I pulled my hands and feet toward my core inadvertently. The bedposts gave way and ripped apart beneath the rope as if they had been made of cardboard. I sprang from the bed faster than I had ever thought I could move. The amount of strength that coiled beneath my skin hammered to the beat of an ancient drum and an inhuman snarl escaped my lips.
Rycon fell to his knees but somehow remained conscious. As the last bit of energy drained from him, I felt a strange ‘click,’ and a pull. Our minds melded in what felt like a very permanent way. I cut off the siphon and filed the strange ‘togetherness’ that I was feeling away. I resolved to examine it more closely later if either of us made it through the night.
The widowmaker cocked its head again with a jerk. Its skull pivoted on its neck in an unnatural way until its ear was parallel with its left shoulder and its chin with its right. The creature’s movements were erratic and abrupt.
“The raven has talons, it seems.” It sang, an eerie smile painted across its black, dripping lips.
‘Do not let it touch you,’ Rycon said in my mind.
‘No Shit. What is it?’ I asked, glancing at him before fixing my gaze back on the monster that stood before me. Rycon’s eyes darkened.
‘A widowmaker. They feed on fear and nightmares,’ He replied. ‘Lighting it on fire is probably your best bet.’
‘How? I don’t even have a lighter.’ I snarled at him without taking my eyes off the widowmaker.
‘You mean to tell me you don’t know how to conjure a flame? What kind of useless piece of shit daemon are you?’ I sent an image of a vulgar hand gesture to his mind and he sighed out loud.
“Catch,” he said. My heightened reflexes allowed me to easily catch the metal lighter that he tossed to me from behind. “It’s better than nothing. Make sure it doesn’t catch you in its web.”
“What web?” I asked just as the widowmaker opened its mouth and fired wet, inky, strings in my direction. I barely had time to get out of the way as the jet-black substance slammed into the wall where I had been standing. The widowmaker licked its sticky lips and jerked around to face me.
“I have eaten flies bigger than you, half-breed!” Its voice bubbled through the tar dripping from its mouth. The next thing I knew, it was on all fours. It scuttled towards me like a spider, faster than I had expected.
I dodged it, using my new speed to leap over the bed and away from it before tucking and rolling as it fired more black web towards me. I barely made it out of the way in time. I jumped to my feet and spun around, looking for the spindly creature. I couldn’t see it anywhere, which was terrifying considering the size of the room. How the hell was I going to light it on fire if I couldn’t see it? Would lighting it on fire even kill it? Where the hell had it gone?
‘Look up, you idiot!’ Rycon snarled into my head. I glanced up to see the widowmaker crouching on the ceiling directly above me. A gob of black tar dripped from its mouth as it smiled.
“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout…” The vile creature sang from above before it opened its mouth, and thick ropes of web exploded toward me. I watched in slow motion, and it came down around me. I had noticed the fiend too late.
“Down came the web and wrapped the Raven up…” How creative, I thought as I fought against the sticky strands. It lowered itself down from the ceiling upside down, its long fingers reaching toward me. The web was heavy and thick and seemed to have a life of its own. It wrapped around my neck and wrists and anchored me to the ground, holding me still as the widowmaker slowly came down from the ceiling.
As the web crushed and spread between my fingers, it forced me to drop the lighter. I stared at it and knew I was going to die. No matter how hard I pulled against the web, I couldn’t move. It was almost as if there was something in it that drained my strength. The more I struggled, the weaker I felt.
“Out came the sun and dried up all the rain…” It cooed as it reached out its index finger. I went cross-eyed as I watched the sharp tip reach closer and closer to my face. Don’t touch me, don’t touch me, don’t touch me. I chanted in my head, a sob choking at my throat as the web wrapped itself around my mouth, silencing me.
“And the itsy bitsy Raven, never woke up again …”
24
I had accepted that I was going to die, when every shadow in the room came alive and swirled together, forming the shape of a man. The monster jerked its hand away as it spun on its ebony thread to confront this new intruder.
The shadows settled and solidified, and there stood Amon. He was holding a sheathed sword in one hand. The sword seemed out of place, considering he was dressed in slacks and a crisp collared shirt. It was almost as if he had left whatever he had been doing in a hurry, and grabbed the sword as an afterthought.
I never thought I would be happy to see him, but here I was, nearly sobbing with relief. The monster screamed an inhuman cry and lashed out at him with its deadly fingers. He unsheathed his blade, which was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The blade itself seemed to be made of midnight. He used it to cut the widowmaker’s hand clean off its wrist. The hand jerked and danced on the floor, spraying putrid black blood on the carpet. The fiend screamed louder, launching thick ropes of web at him from inches away. He did not try to dodge the attack, but merely held up a hand, and it seemed to hit an invisible wall, before boiling and steaming away.
Amon made quick work of its second hand, severing it with his midnight blade, before grabbing the widowmaker by the throat and ripping it down from its venomous thread. He held it up before him effortlessly as it thrashed in his grip, bloody stumps streaming stinking blood.
“Mistress will kill you for harming me!” It shrieked. Black ink bubbling down its chin and onto his hand. He didn’t seem to notice the filthy substance staining the cuff of his shirt. His expression was cold and filled with a silent rage. I watched from my stranded place on the floor as his grip tightened around the creature’s throat. I heard a crack and pop that made me wince as bones broke in its neck.
“I doubt Ash Nevra will shed a tear for something that has demonstrated such incompetence.” His tone was cold and unforgiving.
“You cannot kill me.” The creature spat. “I was a god before you were even a twinkle in this young planet’s eye.” Amon rose an eyebrow at this and smoke began to billow from where he had his hand wrapped around her neck.
