//------------------------------// // 1. Arachnophobia // Story: Along Came an Arachne // by Scarheart //------------------------------// Edited byTuxOKC. How? Why? Where? One word questions are often the beaches before a vast ocean of speculation. For one individual, such questions followed the ending of one chapter of her life and began a new one. The world was filled with strange things, mysterious things. Accepting such things was not difficult if one was subjected to a daily assault of the absurd. Life had certainly not been dull, to say the least. She had awoken in a forest with no knowledge of how she had arrived. Nothing smelled familiar, even the very air itself felt...alien. No, wait… as her head cleared, her memory returned to her along with a pounding headache. The last memory was that of some demented sorceress, a demoness that had vowed vengeance for the treatment of her little sister. The world flashed, there was pain, then darkness. Fear was a thing to be suppressed. It was something she did very well, for fear was one of her most invaluable weapons. Being a predator instilled within her the instincts necessary in being one. Among her kind, there were few peers. However, life had recently been kind and she felt she had found love in the form of one Kimihito Kurusu, her Honey. Fear was also a thing that could manifest in the worst of ways at the most unexpected moment. Honey was nowhere near and nothing around her was familiar. Nor could she sense the other girls, the competition she delighted in teasing, so sure of herself and the patient journey that would surely present unto her the ultimate prize. Being the wife of a human wasn’t going to be such a bad thing, not if the human in question was her Honey. He was living proof humans were capable of kindness and understanding, but in the six eyes of Rachnera Arachnera, Kimihito was a rare man indeed. He was gone, though. The girls were gone. Her home was gone. Her world… The trees here were strange, like nothing she had ever seen before. The air was filled with the sounds of creatures which aroused caution within her. Though she was a huntress, ambush was her expertise. Rachnera did little fumbling through her confusion with this strange, new place. Nothing felt fully natural to her and her instincts told her so. The Arachne trusted her instincts. Caution dictated her thoughts, though the back of her mind roiled in desperation. Home! How do I find my way home? To my Honey? Life was not fair. Rachnera had long ago accepted this, but her world had been stripped from her by a demon. She had been removed from her love. So, instead of running around and searching aimlessly for something she knew would not be found, Rachnera instead webbed up a tree and placed herself deep within its branches near the trunk so she could think. Acting in an irrational manner would not be very helpful. She had some understanding of the powers of demons, though there was no way she could have known even one would possess a power like this. The most difficult part of herself Rachnera found she had to deal with was her sense of hopelessness. In short, it did not take long for the depression to set in. So, she brooded in her webbed tree, unsure (if she was completely honest with herself) as to what to do now. There was a chance she might find help, but first of all, she was not sure if there were sapient beings here and secondly, would they accept her appearance? Doubtful. The Arachne found fear had taken a grip upon her, freezing her to inaction as she tried to think of a way home. After three days, she was certain this was no longer Earth. There were vague teases that tickled her senses, but it felt as though she was being mocked. For three days as she brooded within her sanctuary, this new world teased her. The smells, the sensations, the instincts from within… Fear gave way to anger, and not in a smooth way. It was the sunset of her fourth day when the liminal emerged from her leafy fortress. The air itself seemed to reel from the anger emanating from her form. Her pedipalps were brought up to her chest, which at first glance might have been confused for human legs. Eight spidery legs carried her to the top of the canopy of her tree so she might get the lay of the land. Arms crossed under her breasts of her top human half, Rachnera glared at the horizon, daring there be nothing to catch her interest. The ocean of trees appeared to have a break in them, the Arachne noted after taking in her surroundings for the first time. Mental beratement coursed through her inner conversation with herself. There appeared to be the lights of civilization at the foot of some lazy hills breaking up the forest just over a kilometer away, she guessed. Beyond lay a sleepy mountain range, bathed in the golden rays of the setting sun. Rage seized Rachnera focused almost entirety at herself. Should she ever find the demoness that had done this to her, rest assured there would be a reckoning of sweet, sweet revenge! Narrowing her eyes and setting thoughts of revenge aside, she made up her mind. With a deep breath and calm self assurance, the anger melted away. It was time to do a little bit of snooping. With the onset of night, sneaking around and getting a good idea of the inhabitants of yonder village without being spotted would be much easier. She paused in mid step as the setting sun appeared to be falling at a rate that was impossible. Just as impossible, the moon rose and it was not at all like the one she knew at home. Gaping at the heavenly bodies as they swapped places with a complete ignorance of physics, Rachnera trembled, clutching at her wool sweater. Somehow it had managed to remain intact and (somewhat) clean. “How?” came the first words she had spoken since coming to this place. Rachnera took a thumb and forefinger and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Was this some sort of pocket dimension? Was this some creation of a god for his or her own personal amusement in aeons past? Was this just a really bad caffeine trip? “Hate this. Hate everything,” Rachnera muttered, her crimson monochromatic eyes rolling in their sockets. With a huff, she crawled with no effort out of the tree and set across the forest floor in a silent glide, her spider legs propelling her forward in stealthy silence. Her journey took her up into the trees as she decided to avoid unwanted encounters, a combination of her legs and webbing making travel something of a walk in the park. Rachnera was loathe to travel distances, being more of a stay at home girl. There was but one goal on her mind and that was to find a way home. So she could find the demoness. So she could get back with her Honey and do things with him. Naughty, lewd things. Once she broke through the treeline, Rachnera paused to take a good look at the dwellings she had glimpsed earlier. As it was night, her vision was quite good and she could make out buildings that would be found in Bavaria. It was… quaint. There were few street lamps and the village itself was not very large. Most of the light came from within the homes and could be seen through windows left open by their inhabitants. She did not emerge from the forest. Though the village was at its edge, Rachnera gave pause, her ears catching something that did not belong. As silent as a wraith, she went up a nearby tree and settled deep within its shadows. Not far from where she had been on the ground, several bipedal creatures slinked from beneath the cover of the trees. Their posture suggested they did not live here. There was a certain intent here, something that made the Arachne purse her lips and narrow each of her eyes. They were dogs? The Arachne blinked in confusion. Ugly Kobolds, if she were to hazard a guess. Very ugly Kobolds! They varied in size, most of them appearing to be taller than the average human. They were covered in fur, wearing haphazard armor, scrounged from whatever they could get their hands on. In their hands… paws? they carried an assortment of weapons and tools ranging from clubs to nets. Their arms were very long to the point where knuckles were nearly dragging along the ground. Their legs were shorter than would be expected on a biped. How odd. What were these Kobolds? Were they slavers? What sort of world was this? “Interesting,” she mused under her breath. Rachnera weighed her options. She was certain no matter where she went, others would see her as a monster. Very few individuals could get over her hideous lower half. Spiders were in general regarded in fear and were hated. What would Honey do? she found the thought poking its way to the forefront of her mind. Rachnera was certain he would be concerned with innocents, those who could not protect themselves, as well as the moral implications of what was unfolding before her eyes. Should she allow the events to come to pass and not lift a finger? It was clear she was not on Earth anymore, which meant… An evil grin splayed across her lovely face. It was a hideous, wonderful thing. Stress on a girl did nasty things to her complexion and here was an opportunity to alleviate that. There were no laws, no Agent Smith to worry about. Here, the Arachne might be able to unleash her fury upon these dogs and perhaps endear herself to the locals in the process. Tilting her head to one side, she admitted to herself the endearment part might be a bit of a long shot. The dogs were speaking to each other in a tongue Rachnera was not familiar with. They seemed to be arguing with each other. Two in particular, she guessed to be brothers, growled heatedly while their companions whimpered and waited to see which one would win out. All went silent when a voice called out from the village. The dogs ducked low, the two bigger brutes giving each other accusing glares. Rachnera smirked, casting her gaze upon the owner of the voice. Her vision found a quadruped, perhaps a meter tall at the shoulder with an oversized head in proportion to its body. It seemed to be equine, vaguely, and had a red coat and a pine green mane and tail. What the actual hell? The clash of colors had to be a crime against nature! Still, there was something adorable about the little… pony… thing. The language it spoke was odd and not at all Japanese, or any other language she could identify. The same could be said about the dogs, though their sounds were distinctly what would be expected from canines… if they had a spoken language. Unsure as to how to handle this, Rachnera fell deeper into the shadows. This was all strange to her, surreal. Though she was used to dealing with weird things, this was a new world, which meant there would be different rules. Who was in charge? Were the dogs the masters here or were the ponies? Were they the playthings of something more powerful? The key, she reasoned, would be to find out who had the power here. Upon finding that out, it would behoove the Arachne to find out if said power would either aid her or hinder her. It was impossible to say at this point. She knew nothing of this place. Damn that demon! Yes, she was frustrated. Indeed, Rachnera wanted to vent. However, she realized she would have to be practical about this. Perhaps it would be wiser to watch everything play out in front of her and make a decision then. She never was the hero type and could at times be selfish. Then another figure joined the equine. It was also an equine, but clad in armor! In one of its front legs it gripped a spear, using it as a fourth leg. Its helmet was plumed, much like what ancient soldiers would have worn. In front of the plume was what appeared to be a spiraled horn.  It had a hard look to its eyes. The first equine pointed at the treeline, babbling in a fearful tone. The armored equine nodded and barked out what could only be orders. From around the building emerged more of the armed and armored equines, maybe a dozen or so. Rachnera decided to stay out of it, a part of her disappointed. The dogs growled again, the two big ones jostling with each other before one howled and bayed off into the woods. The others followed, also baying. The other big dog snarled, glaring at the equines, then loped off after his friends into the forest. The equines… ponies, Rachnera supposed she could call them, moved from the village and spread out just short of entering the woods. Within the village itself, more equines were emerging from their homes, gathering in a group and watching with fearful eyes. The Arachne studied them, catching sight of smaller ones for a brief moment before the bigger ones shooed them back into their respective homes. Were they children? They made Rachnera’s heart melt, if only for a moment. They were cute. Kids were so bothersome. Always in the way. Although she would not mind making a child with dear Honey… Idly she watched as the soldier ponies shouted at each other. Keeping in communication, she thought. So, was this some form of military? A militia, maybe? Rachnera flexed her fingers, memorizing fuzzy faces and colorful eyes. How would they react if they saw her? Stupid question. Rachnera made a bitter smirk. What could she do? What would she do? What were her options? Eventually the pony soldiers went back to the village, leaving the Arachne alone to figure out what she should do. This would have to be done with great care. Rachnera was certain any reaction to the sight of her would be less than welcoming, but she needed help. She was the outsider here. From her vantage point, the village appeared to have been built around a crossroad. There was a large square with a water fountain at its center. The fountain bore a longer legged version of the equines with wings spread wide and a long, spiralling horn sprouting from its forehead. It was the most remarkable feature. There were signs on some buildings. The writing was, of course in the local language, though there seemed to be an almost childlike quality to it. Certain buildings were easy to identify, no matter what language. There was an inn, the largest building, a bakery, a general store of sorts, and a pair of official buildings, one of them possibly a town hall. They were arrayed around the town’s center in a circle. The rest were homes. Something caught her attention. Just off one of the two main roads and just on the edge of the town was what appeared to be a large run-down house. Even in the darkness of night, the moon showed the scars left behind by fire at the windows and doors. Part of the roof had collapsed in on itself. Taking a moment to make sure there were no more natives out and about in the night, Rachnera found her way towards the broken house. It seemed a bit out of place from the rest of the village, she noted. The architecture was different, reminding her of a small palace or a plantation house. It was massive and its walls were made of solid stone. Perhaps a rich native’s retreat at some point in the past? It was difficult to say. As she moved, the Arachne placed silk, her spinnerets dipping every once in a while as she moved with instinctive ease. Her choice to not go into the house directly was deliberate, going around it several times, moving quickly as she kept her focus towards unwanted attention. No one had been around the house in a long time. There were no tracks or prints or any indication that the grounds had been disturbed for some time. There had been a gate, though the stone walls in front of the house had long ago been removed, perhaps to help build the other houses of the village. As she did this, her thoughts went towards the dogs and the equines. It was obvious there was some sort of conflict between the two. “The ugly Kobolds aren’t welcome around here,” the Arachne told herself as her spider legs carried her up to the front door. “Raiders or bandits, I think. Very odd bodies. The arms are wrong, the legs are wrong. And the ponies…” She pursed her lips as she slipped through the front doors. She had to duck her upper torso to fit through. The frame was not designed for humans and she could barely squeeze through. Even though she did have an enormous spider half, Rachnera had little trouble. Once inside, she found herself in a dusty foyer. A grand staircase opened before her. There were doors to either side of the room and more at the top of the stairs. The elegance in the design and the spaciousness was surprising as though whoever designed it wanted a visitor to feel welcomed. It was a shame it was run down and had seen years of neglect. The fire damage at least did not seem as bad. “The little horses don’t look like proper horses,” Rachnera went to the stairs, laying a delicate touch to the wooden railing. Her sharp fingertips trailed along as she ascended the stairs, each leg placed with care. There was no telling how sound the wood was. “Those eyes are far too large and how do they have the muscles to keep such large heads up?” The top of the staircase became a balcony that went around either side. There were doors at both ends leading to other rooms. Cobwebs were everywhere. Even though half of her was spider, the Arachne enjoyed a clean place to live and preferred her own webbing to make a place feel like home. The fire damage was in its full glory. The charred wood and scorched stone was far more noticable. The first set of doors were half burned and the room beyond was a blackened mess. The fire had eaten through the floor and beams from the ceiling had broken and fallen within. Debris was everywhere. Pale moonlight bathed Rachnera as she peeked in. Looking up, the pale sphere seemed to be looking directly at her. Finding nothing of interest, the Arachne pulled back to the top of the stairs. Moving to the left of the top of the staircase, she went to the next doorway. The door itself was gone. Someone had shattered it from the other side. What remained of it was on the floor in front of Rachnera and on the floor of the foyer below. A quick peek inside saw a continuation of the roof collapse, though the floor was intact. Furniture could be seen, ruined by the fire and the elements since. Again, nothing of real interest. She pulled back again and was prepared to move on to the next room when the unmistakable sound of hooves on wood found her ears. Far too small to be Cerea! It was one of the little ponies. A pale yellow coat with red and orange mane. Impossibly large blue eyes. A stub of a horn in the middle of its forehead. It gaped at her. Rachnera froze. “How did you get in here?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice level and pleasant so as to not spook the little thing. If it were to run back to the village and raise the alarm. Oh, no, that would not do. That would not do at all! The pony-horse-thing babbled at her, backpedaling. Was it apologizing? Those eyes flicked up towards the liminal’s face, then down towards the massive spider torso and back again. They were round as saucers and overflowing with fear. Its little legs quivered. “Oh dear,” Rachnera hissed. “Can’t have you running off!” She darted forward, her legs a blur. The little pony let out a cry before spider legs were all around it. Four legs grabbed while the other four kept Rachnera up. Her spinnerets dipped in, the little pony turned by her legs. There was no intent to harm and the Arachne had no interest in it. Even as she cocooned the poor little thing, her mind raced as for what to do with this spot of bother. Within seconds the pony was bound good and proper, its muzzle clamped shut firmly with her fingers. Tears streamed down its cheeks as it stared in muted horror at the spider monster. Rachnera held her prize before her. Her free hand caressed the cheek of the weeping pony-horse-thing, certain it was about to be gobbled up right there on the spot. A finger went to her lips. “Shh, little one, I am not going to eat you. Yet,” Rachnera could not help herself. “If I unclamp your muzzle, are you going to scream?” The little pony stared at her, whimpering. The Arachne caressed the other cheek. “I will not hurt you,” she stressed with a little more sincerity. Tilting her head to one side she gave the little creature a reassuring smile, taking care to keep her teeth hidden. “Shh. It’s okay. I want to be your friend. Do you understand?” No, she really did not expect the little pony to understand. Releasing the muzzle, she retracted her fingers, spreading them and easing them away so those large eyes could follow. Her eyes scanned the area, seeking out other intruders. Her ears were perked and two of her legs felt for vibrations through the webbing she had laid out along the perimeter. Meanwhile, the pony was staring at her retreating hand, making more of those whimpering sounds. Its ears were pressed back against its skull. Fear trembled through its little form, leaving the liminal feeling guilty for giving it such a fright. Rachnera was not a fan of being a bully. There was a difference between annoying others for the sake of self amusement and scaring the living daylights out of a child in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet… “How did you get in here, little one?” she cooed at the pony. Was it a foal? It would have to be one if it was indeed an equine. The creature was definitely horse-like. It had hooves, a mane and a tail, and she had heard them whinny in their tongue. Would Cerea be able to communicate with them? Transferring the pony from her spider legs to her human arms, she cradled it like a baby, stroking its face in an effort to calm the little thing down. It had not come in through the front door, but how did it come in? Was there another entrance around here? It was a very large house and there had been a couple of other doors. Rachnera would have noticed before going inside and certainly after. Very little could get past her web without notice. The poor thing was still crying, though now there were adorable little sniffles thrown in for good measure. Guilt tugged at her heart. With one finger she booped it on the nose. “I want to check a few things and then I’ll let you go, okay?” Rachnera smiled down at the pony. “Let’s see if there’s a tunnel or some secret passage you used.” Her gaze shifted to the dusty floor. There were visible hoofprints. She followed them, slipping through the doorway and hugging her new little friend to her chest. The pony tried to struggle through the webbing, but of course that was impossible. Her eyes darted around the room as she entered, noting it was untouched by the fire. This might at one time have been a personal office. The furniture had been exquisite at one time, but the film of filth from the smoke and time had all but ruined it. Once in the middle of the room, the Arachne went still and took a moment to attune herself to her senses while her eyes followed the little pony’s trail. This house had once been the home of someone of wealth and stature. A painting—in a state of perfect preservation—depicted what appeared to be a family of the equine creatures. There was a well-dressed and proud mustached (mustache?) male, the father, an elegant and haughty female, and a gaggle of little ones of various ages surrounding them. Curious as to the remarkable condition of the painting, Rachnera reached out and touched the canvas. Her chitinous fingertip sparked on contact, making her yelp in surprise as she jumped back. There was a muffled protest from between her breasts. “That was unexpected,” she muttered as her attention shifted downwards to her unwanted charge. “And you’re a boy, aren’t you?” She pulled him away, smirking. “Yes, you are most definitely male.” A laugh, a genuine laugh escaped her lips, her shoulders shaking as she covered her lips with her free hand. “You are the sweetest thing!” Rachnera praised the pony. Would that make him a colt? Is that what young male horses were called? Would that make the pony children foals? “Now, how did you get in here?” Little hoofprints were everywhere. Did the little guy live here? A moment of clarity struck her. Taking another look at the painting, her attention shifted to the colt. She peeled a bit of her webbing from his face for a better look and held him up with one hand. As he dangled like a trussed up kitten, she compared the colt to the ponies in the painting. “I think I see a resemblance,” she observed. “Now I’m curious as to what your story is, my little friend. However, I need to find out how I’m supposed to get home. Maybe you can help, hmm? Would you like to be my little helper?” The colt seemed to have calmed down. His huge eyes stared at her. With deliberate slowness, she set him down. A single fingertip tore through the spider silk in a deft motion and the pony suddenly found himself free. “There. I apologize for tying you up,” Rachnera said to him in a sweet tone. “But I can’t risk letting you run away and—” He was gone in a puff of smoke, having disappeared into the wall. Rachnera blinked at where he had been. “Well,” she deadpanned, “shit.”