It's a standoff between you and the spiders. On one side, you, tense, taut, and ready for action but stilled by indecision. On the other, a metric ton of spiders crouching aggressively. And perching menacingly. And looming ominously.
They may have caught you off guard (and briefly triggered a traumatic memory), but now that you can see where they are the tables have turned. A spider you can see is better than one you can't.
You take a deep breath. In. Out. Now's not the time to lose your head. As much as you'd love to go into a berserk rage and smash them all into little tiny pieces, they do have numbers on their side. Too weak to face you one on one so they try and gang up on you. Cowards.
As if to prove you wrong, a single spider steps forth from the horde. It's a big one, hefty dog sized, and it stands smack in the middle of the path, blocking your way to the exit. Something gooey drips from its weird mouth parts as it stares you down with what you swear is gleeful anticipation.
"S-so, that's how you wanna do this?" Cool. Calm. Collected. That's you. A paragon of rational decision-making, and definitely not a mare barely holding it together. "Well fine by me!"
That's right! You're Rainbow Dash! Monster fighter! Adventure seeker! Element of Awesome! No spiders are gonna get the best of you, no matter how many hairy legs and glistening eyeballs and drooling maws they have!
You reach into your bag and feel around for the potion you got off that mad scientist. You aren't totally sure what it'll do, but no doubt something nasty. Perfect for spiders.
As if sensing your intention, the gigaspider crouches down before suddenly leaping towards you!
Quick as a flash you draw the potion and fling it at the beast. Your aim strikes true and you smirk as you can immediately see the spider's body start to hiss and bubble in some alchemical reaction. But the smile doesn't last long as, despite your perfect throw, the spider is still hurtling through the air towards you at much the same speed. Before you can even think to dodge, it hits you with less of a thwack and more of a squelchy splat.
You don't scream. You definitely do not scream like a frightened filly her first day jumping off a cloud. Just because you've been hit in the face with a melting spider and it's melting off your skin, oh dear Faust the equinity!
...Actually, you realize upon a moment of reflection, it doesn't hurt. It's oozy and sticky and really really gross, but it doesn't actually hurt.
"Huh. That worked better than expected." Of course, you don't forget that you had only one potion and there's a lot more spiders left, but for the moment they don't seem eager to fight you. Maybe the defeat of the big one scared them into submission.
Blind in one eye by the ooze, you rub your hoof against your face to try and scrape some of the spider goop off. It's sticky, like caramel only way worse, and only seems to get your hoof just as filthy. The light's starting to fade as the lantern runs out of charge, and you reach out to pull the handle again to reset it. As you do, you feel something twitch on the back of your neck.
You freeze.
There it is again! A slight twitch, right near the center of your shoulder blades. It's not a spot you can see, not with your eye covered, but a carefully angled wing should reach the spot. You twist and reach around with a pinion, searching for that same spot of sensation. As you find it, you feel something clamp down on your feather. Something that feels an awful lot like spider jaws.
That's when it chooses to strike.
This time you do scream. Loud and long until you're hoarse. The thing is still alive, despite being half dissolved and spread across your body like an oil spill! You thrash at it with every ounce of energy you have, desperate to get the liquid spider off. Now that it's not playing dead, you can feel every bit of it moving, legs twitching and scrabbling at odd angles. You pull and twist but it just won't come off! It just gets spread across more and more of you!
Suddenly you feel a terrible gut wrenching twist in your stomach. You collapse as it feels like someone's putting all your organs in a salad mixer. You can still feel the spider goo moving across your body, but it feels less frantic now. Less like an attack. More intentional.
With a gasp and a sharp stinging sensation, you can feel the exact moment the line starts to blur where the potion-warped spider ends and you begin. It coats you utterly, sinking into your fur, your muscles, your bones, like slime soaking into a towel. And it changes you.
Every little change burns itself into your senses in acute detail, sharper and more defined than anything you've ever felt outside the most intense dives. Each strand of fur tugging and pulling away at your skin with a million needle pricks till they flatten into hardened sheets of armor-like shell. Every organ groaning in protest as they're squashed and birthed into new and twisted purpose. The meager light of the lantern feels like piercing rays of a cruel sun to each new eye as they blister from your forehead. A noise like splitting logs fills the room as your hind legs crack and split then split again, thinning and hardening into six spindly shards of night. You scream, or try to, as your jaw divides into two massive vice-like pincers, leaking poison that sizzles where it meets the floor.
But above the noise of your body being broken and reforged, is the relentless torrent of noise from the other spiders. But what was once maddening noise begins to twist, developing strange patterns and harmonies that your mind can nearly grasp yet slip away like sand. But the more you listen, the more the chittering and hissing starts to sound like words.
"Ksss... ksss... lpha... ksss... vhsss...serv... kss... khzrrt... kssss... Queen."
"Kss... serve the queen... vhsss... ksss..."
"Praise the queen."
"Praise."
"Feed."
"Obey."
"QUEENMOTHER."
It's all too much. Your pedipalps writhe as you shriek in a tongue that can no longer form equestrian speech, legs lashing the shelves apart like scythes, and poison spraying like a fountain of blood.
The spiders continue to sing in worshipful praise as darkness takes you into blissful void.
[Part of the web, part of the crew. Add three (+3) to your Fear Meter]
You awake to the sound of a mare vocalizing. It's not the same sound as the spiders, but the tune is hauntingly familiar. You snap to full alertness, jumping up to your hooves. It takes a quick moment to realize that, yes, once again you do have hooves. And two eyes and a full coat of fur and all the proper pony parts. Not a trace of anything spidery to be found. Already the sensations seem to be fading from your memory. Your brief moment of dysphoria aside, you quickly gather your wits and recognize the foyer from which you started. You look upward to the source of the song, finding, much to your regret, Trixie. She's changed her costume, now wearing a crown and some kind of weird armor, but the most noticeable thing about her is her backside. Or really, the spider-like body's that's replaced it. From her waist down it's all green armored carapace.
You breath stills for a second before you look closer and see how obviously fake it is. The legs are clearly glued on and some of the stitching is visible. You take a deep breath to recover form the shock and wipe any traces of being scared of Trixie out of your system.
"Praise, praise, the Spider Queen!" she sings, though the words don't perfectly fit the tune. "She lobs us all and we are agog at her glory. May her web be infinite and her thread involatile. Praise, praise!"
"You done?"
She gazes down at you, her look radiating imperial disdain. "I suppose. I had a couple more verses, actually, but they don't really work here since I wrote them with Twilight in mind."
You shake your head. "That was messed up. Something's wrong with you, Trixie. There's something dark in your head and the fact that you can't see it honestly scares me more than that last room did. You were going to let foals go through that?"
"Foals?" she scoffs. "Of course not! They'd get a much shorter cocoon-based transformation. Maybe have to fight their friends if they're in a group. You're the one who told me you could handle this at the highest settings." She grins maliciously, her wide smile accentuated by fangs. "Or is it too much for you? Need me to tone it down? Bring it back to a more foal-appropriate level?"
You return the scowl but say nothing, choosing instead to stomp back off down a hallway and continue your trek. You try to put the memory of the transformation out of your mind, and ignore how the moths flitting about the light look strangely appetizing.
There doesn't seem to be anything to interact with in this room, but there are three hallways that branch off that head LEFT, FORWARD, and RIGHT.
If your Fear Meter is full, you must select the fourth option.