Johnny ran as quietly as he could manage, sneaking along the walls and darting across open spaces, feeling a twinging pain in his side and shoulder as he climbed his way up to another roof, trying to get a better look. The air has a slight chill to it, leaving his breath in puffs of mist. The gun is a weighty thing at his hip, even now when he's gotten used to its slight hitch against his waistband. He pauses for breath, watching a few random people across the street, at ground level, moving in the same manner like he had, to watch them vanish around a corner. They looked weird. But they didn't matter. Okay. He looked around, trying to retrace his steps, moving on uncertainly. Okay. Okay, okay, okay, he and Mavis had been looking for a party, they-they'd gone this way, right? The lot was this way?
He hadn't paid attention much, thought it was okay just to wander, and directions had never been his strong point, when he didn't have a map.
How stupid was he?
There wasn't any light to follow now - the party was shut down.
"C'mon, c'mon, Mavey, where are you...?" he muttered unhappily, feeling lost, then grunted when he felt a sudden uncomfortable tugging in his sternum.
Pum.
He glared down at his chest with a quiet, pained hiss. "Ow? Man, what do you want now?"
The spell didn't answer, of course - it hadn't talked to him again since Jekyll's 'examination'. But it seemed to make its point to Johnny through a harsher yank right from his core, like a dull rubber hook in his chest, making the stitch in his side flare up in protest, making him stumble forward a few costly steps.
Bu-pum-pum!
"Ow, ow, ow, OW—!"
He yelped when this tugging nearly tumbled him off the roof flat, falling just short of the edge. He threw out his arms to break his fall, harshly scraping his palms against the rough cement, jarring his arms painfully up to the shoulders from the shock impact. He caught his breath, staring blankly over the edge at the asphalt some two stories down. Owwww...
After a frozen moment he giggled nervously, hurriedly pushing himself away from the edge, shaking out his arms.
"Wooo-hoo woah... Some protection spell you are, dude. Almost went - gurk?!"
Johnny quickly rolled over on his back with the yanking in his chest, just barely getting missed by the hatchet that'd been coming down on the back of his head.
He sat up to stare up at the attacker. Dude in a motorcycle helmet. Another human?
"Woah."
And backed up just in time to avoid getting hit in another area, the hatchet brought down on the space of rooftop between his legs.
"Woah!"
His hands were caught back at the roof's edge, and then he felt his heart jolt in his chest when they slipped, and he felt the world drop down a two storey building.
"WOAAGH—!"
Breath's caught in his throat and too fast to think that he's falling falling falling falling
WHAUM!
. . .
. . .
. . .
Ow.
. . .
Old Lady's puppet crouched on the floor, mopping away at the sick with a 'cloth' made from a more absorbent skein of webbing, working to the gentle muttering chorus of "Messy, messy, messy..." Meanwhile Mavis was hunched over a little ways away, holding her stomach, just trying to keep from making another mess. Old Lady kept a few of her eyes on the vampire girl while she worked, before setting aside the puppet when she was done.
Carefully, quietly the spider lowered down, her first legs' tarsi absently rubbing together in a way that was reminiscent of wringing hands. Another spooling of her silvery thread made a small fine net that she seemed to regard with some thought, pincers slowly flexing, looking between it and her guest. After a few, long moments she decided to discard it, and did so before she gently reached out to touch the tense young vampire's shoulder.
"Are you alright?"
Mavis just barely flinched, before turning quickly to keep Old Lady in sight.
"S-sorry," the vampire mumbled, brought back to alertness, voice drastically hoarsened from her retching. Noticeably paler than usual, she kept uneasy eyes on what counted as Old Lady's face, wondering which of the many eyes she should focus on, before settling on the two biggest, "I'm, um, sorry about that..."
"It's no trouble, dear, accidents happen," Old Lady said kindly, one of her rear legs kicking the discarded net out of sight into the web, an act gone unnoticed by Mavis, "Are you well? Do you need some water? Or perhaps you still wouldn't want...?"
"W-what?" Seeing the spider's gesture back to the web, the silent offer, Mavis anxiously shook her head, fighting back the still faint roiling in her stomach. "No, no, no thank you, I-I'm not - I'm not hungry."
Liar. You just threw everything up, remember? Sooner or later, you're gonna be...
She kept slowly shaking her head to herself as she had to look at the web again, swallowing, glass in her throat, acid on her tongue - how many were there, when she really looked? Eight? Ten? More? Too many. A few were just so small. "I-I'm not. No. Oh, God, no, how could you do that?!"
"Do what?" the spider clicked uneasily, but now Mavis saw how her many eyes seemed to not quite look at her.
"You know what. This. These are humans!" Mavis protested to her, before marching up and striking at the web itself in panicked frustration, "This!" making the entire web surge throughout its chamber to the gruesome sound of its stretching, straining fibers, causing all the cocoons to bounce wildly in their moorings. She heard the spider's startled gasp behind her, the spider, the puppet, the girl, the man - this was all wrong... Mavis's wide eyes took in the display, before her jaw gritted. "This is wrong..." she repeated aloud.
"O-oh, dear . . . N-now, now, sweetie," she heard Old Lady try to soothe as the web's morbid movements faded, and Mavis heard the whisper of the spider's many legs behind her. "I'm sure what you must be thinking, but if you'd just calm down w-we can — oh!"
Mavis's claws had slid with a snap from her fingertips, causing momentary discomfort from the pressure under her fingernails.
She couldn't save the girl. But here and now...
"This is wrong." Mavis decided. Here and now she could still save them. Moving quickly to the cocoon she had first heard the heartbeat from, she raised a hand, hearing Old Lady's sharp inhale and her quick scuttling.
"No! No, no, no, please, please be gentle, please don't wake them up, they're still asleep, they're still sleeping, please — NO!"
Too late, Mavis's razor-like claws tore shallow rents into the tough, thickened web, shredding the surface - too shallow, quick, another, and another - and then another hasty swipe finally opened up fine gashes in the weakened casing, and that was where Mavis's work was instantly halted.
As soon as they were opened, a harsh hiss of warm, moist air escaped from the slits she'd torn, steaming, smelling so putrid. To the vampire's horror, fine sprays of discolored translucent red spurted from the openings, misting into the air, spraying across the floor, making her stumble back as the oozing fluids quickly stained the pure white silk that held it with a mottled, rancid pink. She found herself with a headache conflicting between the smell either being disgusting or faintly delicious - oh, no. No, no, oh, no, wait, this was wrong, this was wrong - hadn't this one had a heartbeat?
Turns out it did. Mavis was startled when the cocoon suddenly jerked with a sick, fleshy sound, still spurting its ichor. She looked on in shock as it jerked again, and then again, before spasming continuously in place, disturbing the web around it with its thrashing, the leaking mess becoming an oozing trickle, droplets flying with its disturbing contortions. The cocoon's surface warped and caved wetly in places, suggesting that its contents by this point had been mostly liquefied. But not completely... A strange noise started to build up, quiet, almost like a buzzing in the ears, and then her veins ran cold when she realized the sound was coming from the cocoon itself, shaking, straining, almost twisting in half around where its spine would be - uttering a long, continuous, watery wail...
"No, you horrible, horrible girl!"
Mavis was quickly shoved aside by Old Lady, falling back on her rear, and she automatically scooted back, further away from the contorting thing, watching with wide eyes as the spider huddled herself over the cocoon, her many legs moving hurriedly, fresh thread looping around the writhing figure, patching up the gashes. Old Lady kept muttering, just barely heard over the thing's muffled screaming, and Mavis realized the spider was speaking to it.
"Shh, shh, it's okay now, dear, it's okay, shhshshsh, I'm here, I'm here, ohh, shhh, poor thing, you poor, poor thing..."
Her tongue was a dry lump glued to the roof of her mouth, tension coiling stiff in her spine and her joints, and she couldn't just get up and walk away, no, she just couldn't stop watching. The spider kept crooning sweet soothing-sounding things to the slowly stilling cocoon, her words still reaching Mavis's ears. The vampire kept listening, couldn't look away, couldn't not listen, practically straining to catch what was said, shock and a strange fascination leaving her catching for some twisted form of comfort from this nightmare. The spider's words sounded tender, almost...motherly...
The cocoon eventually stopped screaming, dwindling down to barely audible whimpers, sobs, crying.
"Shhh, it's okay, now, it's okay, go back to sleep, now, go to sleep, go to sleep..."
Suddenly the spider's fangs were prominent, dark and glistening, practically dripping in the dim light, and in a mere flash of movement they stabbed deep into the cocoon, right through the silk, and there was the sickening ripping sound of pierced flesh, like a bitten apple. The cocoon jerked again, once, a scream of pain, and the spider shuddered before she withdrew her fangs, almost rocking it. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I know, sweetie, I know, it's okay, you can sleep now... Sleep, sleep, just sleep - here, let me sing for you, remember when I sing for you...?" It only took a few minutes, the spider humming some sort of lullaby to the shaking, sad thing, before the cocoon finally slumped, a deadweight in the web. The spider gently let it go, standing back. It was still, and just so quiet.
Old Lady slowly turned from her web, chittering softly, fangs still showing, a glossy, frightening form held aloft in her own threads, eyes glittering, legs spread readily around her lowered body as she regarded the vampire.
"I told you to let it sleep... I'd told you," she told Mavis, crawling closer to the vampire's huddled form, her voice shaking, showing the arachnid's distress, and the spider's fangs flexed in preparation, before she finally was able to focus on Mavis, and it gave the creature pause. "Oh. Oh, my..."
Mavis was shaking, still sitting where she'd fallen, eyes wide, gazing on the stilled cocoon that wouldn't have a heartbeat anymore.
Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke, a disbelieving rasp in her throat.
"I-I - I didn't mean - y-you killed, you just...killed..."
"I told you to let it sleep," Old Lady repeated, still sounding upset, yet somehow still seeming worried for the girl, "If you hadn't wanted it, you could've just let it sleep, you could've just left it alone, and now look at the poor thing..."
The discolored stain still seeped through the fresher silk, and the gore was quickly cooling to dry in crusty patches on the cement.
"I didn't mean to," Mavis swallowed, eyes watering, "Oh, God, I really didn't - w-why did you do that, how could...?"
Old Lady shushed her, before looking at her closely with her many eyes.
". . . Oh. I see, ohh, now I see..."
She barely reached out with a foreleg, chittering gently when Mavis startled back, before sighing.
"Oh, my dear, you're so young, aren't you?"
"W-what does that have to do with it?" Mavis asked weakly, disturbed.
"Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear, what a mess..." Instead of answering right away, Old Lady seemed to pace around her web, murmuring to herself again, rearranging the threads to look busy while taking the cocoon she'd bitten - now truly a corpse - and storing it higher up and further into the web, almost out of Mavis's sight. She turned back to look down at Mavis - if an expression could've been discerned from the spider's face, it might have been anxiety.
"I-I'll be right back." she told the vampire, "I'll be only just a second. Will you wait? Please?" When Mavis did nothing but stare, still quietly shaking, Old Lady fidgeted uneasily, "Please, I'll be right back, please don't go. Okay? Just a second."
The large arachnid quickly scuttled off across the ceiling, silent, moving so swiftly yet not disturbing even a thread of her own web, a quick, dark form disappearing out of the warehouse door that quickly shut behind her with the mere pull of a strand.
After a few beats of silence Mavis got to her feet, shivering, arms holding her body as if she were cold. Her breaths were shaky, shock and adrenalin still pumping through her system. She looked at the remaining cocoons, still and silent in their places, a small noise of distress at the thought that - maybe she could still help them? But the still too-fresh image of the spray of heat and blood and liquid meat and fear-and-pain-filled screaming sent an uncomfortable nausea through her that felt almost like a growling stomach, and she couldn't look at them anymore. But she was sorry, she was sorry, and she didn't know what to do.
I don't know what to do.
I'm sorry.
I'm scared and I don't know what to do.
Dad would know what to do.
I'm sorry.
I don't know what—
I'm sorry.
I want to go home.
I'm scared and I want to go home.
I want to go home.
When Old Lady came back in she was holding something very small between her forelegs, visibly relieved at the sight of Mavis still being there, standing and shivering in one place, looking so small, lost, but Mavis was still there.
"O-oh, thank you, dear, I'm sorry," she moved carefully with her six other legs, before offering the thing she held to Mavis, who took a slight step back, before seeing that it looked sort of like a small, small bowl made of coarse, thick, tightly-weaved web fibers, like a grass basket, sunken and slightly damp at the bottom, "Here, sweetie, to drink."
Mavis automatically shook her head, backing up another small step, "N-no, please, I-I'm not—"
"It's just water."
Mavis looked from the web-cup to Old Lady, unsettled, uncertain.
"Please." the spider begged, and Mavis thought she sounded very sad.
Slowly, Mavis cautiously brought her hands forward to take the cup from the spider, managing to weave her fingers through its edges to hold it like a cat's cradle between her hands, fitting almost perfectly between them, and she saw she was holding what was essentially a webbing net of water, the work was intricate and astonishingly well made. It was slightly bowled with its contents, wobbling in her shaking hold, slightly coarse and surprisingly un-sticky, her fingers slipping through the fibers like a thick carpet, blue-white, the water clear and the whole thing was pretty, little droplets clinging to the edges. She took a careful sip, surprised that the water was cool and mostly clean, getting only a faint smell of dust from the web, and just the taste of rain. Then she felt how dry and chapped her lips were, the skin tender and almost stinging when wetted, sensitive to the water's chill. This stuff was different from whatever they'd managed to get out of the taps from the Hostel. She swallowed and remembered she was so thirsty.
Mavis drank more readily, almost greedily at the water, straining her throat when she nearly swallowed too much, but it was good, and she told the spider so. "Th-thanks. How'd - where'd you get this?" she asked when she took a pause to breathe, voice less of a rasp from the water, a little startled to see that Old Lady had still been watching her all this time, and she self-consciously sipped a little more slowly.
"I collect it," the spider told her, a pleased, hopeful note in her voice, hovering to the side, "Dew, rain, moisture, collects in a little web I made outside, drips down, through a few little filters I'd made, into something good for us to drink. I got the idea from rain barrels. I'm a little worried about the winter coming, when the water might freeze, but - oh I'll work something out. Are you feeling better?"
Mavis swallowed again, though she'd been done drinking, unable to answer. Old Lady quickly went quiet again, uneasy, hesistantly taking the empty web-cup back and eating it, strangely enough. Mavis shifted back a little, looking towards the door beyond the spider. She flexed her fingers uncomfortably, still feeling the warning tingle of her claws underneath, still feeling the buzzing numbness in her fingertips from ripping into the web. She had to go. She should leave, right now, but...
"Why'd you do this?" she asked quietly, calmer, her voice a little easier on her throat after the drink, and the spider fidgeted, before sighing, seeming resigned.
"I know what it looks like," Old Lady murmured. "I know what you're feeling, I really do. But I'm not bad. I'm actually very nice."
"But humans?" Mavis persisted.
"There wasn't anything else, I had no choice." she protested wearily, "And I...wasn't always this size." She gestured to herself, laughing a little self-consciously, nervously. She looked at Mavis, looking her over, "I think I was almost as small as you, once, when I started remembering things. I don't remember why I hatched here, but... I could stay in an alleyway, or-or in a tree, catch some birds or cats or dogs or other small things, nothing anyone would miss, and it was alright. I vaguely recall hearing of more of my brothers and sisters out in the forests, my family," she was sounding nostalgic, hopeful, "With all the bears and deer you could eat. And I thought when I was big and strong enough I could go out there, a-and I was planning to," she insisted, "Really. It's just...humans are so fascinating, aren't they? Oh, some are a little bad, the horrible drunks who wander late at night, but," she sighed, "The little ones are always so sweet..."
Mavis started, eyes wide in shock, and Old Lady froze, "Oh, not like that!" she stammered quickly, "No, no, not like that, or not...quite...but not then, I meant like," her forelegs gestured like hands, "Like," she looked exasperated, "Ooh, one moment, one moment, story, story..."
She moved quickly up to the ceiling, and Mavis jumped when she brought the corpse puppet around again.
"This," Old Lady explained, now talking through the puppet, who gestured to herself, "Or, well, others like this, I can't always keep them fresh, but... Anyway, I learned to use these to talk with them, obviously the poor things are too skittish to talk to me, but some of them are always kind enough to talk to a lonely Old Lady, right? And I'd met the nicest people, just to talk, just to talk, and the families with their little children were just so lovely, offering to walk me home at night," she laughed softly, "Could just tug at a Lady's heart..." The puppet clasped her hands together nostalgically, the head lolled, and Mavis was disturbed when she managed to catch actual glimpses of the face, the wide, dead eyes staring from under the hat and oh, God, her eyes had been blue...
"But there are still some bad humans, of course, as we all know," Old Lady sighed, "Willing to harm a poor Old Lady and, well, oh, dear, who knew what they would've done to the nice humans, or to me, and I...I just couldn't. I had no one to help me." She looked uncomfortable, "I know we're not supposed to do that, that it's considered savage, but he'd been an accident, the first one, and - just one, I told myself, and I meant it, just one, or then just one a month, quiet and careful, taking any that would've tried to hurt an Old Lady, and no one would have missed them... And I was nice. I was kind. I just let them sleep, and of course I was sorry when they had to go, when I'd gotten used to their company." The puppet shrugged gently to herself, "They just did not seem so bad when they were asleep."
Mavis glanced uneasily up at the other cocoons, hanging there so still and silent, who knew how many of those still had heartbeats?
The Old Lady seemed to wring her hands, clumsily twiddle her thumbs, "I grew bigger, and stronger. I needed to eat a little more, yes, but still just one a month, just one, I could make them last, and I was getting ready to leave, to find those lovely, dark forests with all the trees and hiding places and the sweetest creatures you could catch, and...well..." The puppet shivered strangely, and Mavis saw how the spider above seemed to shudder, "I wasn't ready, and the world suddenly became a much smaller, scarier, dangerous place - you must've felt some of it somewhere, didn't you? - and here it was so awful... The families were running, the people were scared, the children were crying, the poor, poor things... Everyone was going and I was just unable to follow." Old Lady sighed again, "And I had to hide, which was hard. They didn't all leave, of course, some of the stronger, younger ones, the more stubborn ones, they stayed, though it was hard for them to help an Old Lady, more and more of them became bad, and, well, things happened, more than one a month, I never went hungry... I met a child once." The way she spoke sounded both tender and trembling at the same time, "A poor, small human child, lost and alone. I couldn't find his family, but I was happy to keep him company, he didn't mind the company of an Old Lady, the dear thing, I found things for him, fed him and kept him safe, and he was so sweet, for a while I thought that maybe I could keep him, my own little boy..."
Mavis listened tentatively, an uncomfortable feeling squirming in her gut, her eyes darting to some of the smaller cocoons in the web in accepting dread. The last time she'd listened to someone's story, it hadn't ended well, and this one was feeling far more real and far too close for comfort.
"But the world is dangerous." Old Lady went on, "We were attacked and I-I almost couldn't save him. And he was so small, he became so scared of me after that, though he tried not to show it the poor thing, but it hurt, and I just couldn't let anyone hurt him again, I couldn't let this world have him, so one night I made him the safest, most comfortable bed, wrapped him in and gently put him to sleep, and I was so, so sad later when he had to go... But I made sure he never knew what happened."
Mavis frowned, not understanding, "Never knew—?" Then her eyes widened. "Y-you mean even after all that you still - to him?"
"I had no choice." Old Lady cut her off, sounding strained, the puppet losing some of its smooth control, jerking with little, disturbing movements, "But I was kind. To him and to all of the ones after, to all of them, all of them, you have to understand, I care for them all so dearly but I have no choice..."
Mavis looked between the puppet and the web, "But that's still—"
"I take care of them. The lost ones, the bad ones, the small ones, the lonely ones, I let them sleep the world away. And while they do, I-I'll tell them stories, I'll sing them songs, like they are my own, and I make them the safest, most comfortable places to sleep until it's time for them to go. I am so gentle, I make it so painless that their sleep would never be disturbed - I make sure I am kind because I am not a monster, sweetie, I just have no choice." Old Lady calmed herself down, letting the strings of the puppet slacken to settle it against the web, "I am kind, much kinder than what anything else this ugly world has to offer them. Besides," this last part was said quietly, almost defensively, "When even humans start eating other humans, who can say what's really wrong in the world anymore?"
Mavis cringed to herself, unwilling to think about it, and unable to answer.
"But this, all of this is not just for my sake. More things happened to my world than the war, dear, nice things, if you'd like to see..." Old Lady slowly lowered down until she was level with Mavis, meeting her eyes with her many own; her many legs curling under her massive form in an attempt to look smaller. "Would you come see? Please?"
Mavis looked to the door again, feeling cornered, "I really should go now..."
"Ohh, I know, I know," Old Lady said sadly, "And I'm sorry. But please, just come look, really quick? It's different, it's nice, and-and maybe you'll understand..."
Mavis's jaw clenched, fingertips aching again. The door was right there, but... She looked at the spider and through the repulsion felt reluctant pity, even guilt. She growled at herself. This was stupid, stupid, Mavis, this is stupid, you really shouldn~n't...
". . . Fine." she muttered, before pointing at the door, "But then I'm going. And I don't want you to try and eat me again - I will get out."
"No, no, never," Old Lady promised quickly, "Thank you, thank you. It's just back here."
The spider went around and into a funnel into the web, and Mavis glanced up again at the remnants of the human she'd tried to save. "About that human," she mentioned quietly, "I'm...sorry about...waking it..." she said gingerly, stamping down the sick feeling. "I'm...really sorry. I mean - I didn't..."
I didn't mean to. I'm sorry.
"I know, dear," the spider reassured her gently, "And it's alright. You're so young, you're new. You didn't know, and I, well, I hadn't understood, I can take some of the blame for that unfortunate mess. But don't worry," her eyes glinted with something inscrutable, "You're really a very sweet child..."
Remaining silent, not sure how to take that compliment, Mavis reluctantly followed Old Lady deeper into the web, ready at a moment's notice to take to the shadows.
. . .
Oh, my aching...everything...
Johnny hears people talking, vaguely, they're kinda quiet. It's still dark out.
Johnny tests if he can move something, and - yup, yup, he can. He can also still feel pain. Awesome.
He groaned.
"Holy shit, he's still moving..."
"Do we finish it off?"
Johnny groaned again. Just his luck. No, no, no, no finishing, he wasn't finished, noooo finishing it.
"What was th—? Patrol. Run. Run!"
He's really wishing he could right now.
Johnny sat up carefully, slowly, every muscle protesting. Evidently a dumpster had broken his fall, leaving him sprawled on its lid. Somehow he'd managed to land on his legs before slipping onto his back. Great. He looked around and saw he was alone. Gingerly sliding off the dumpster - everything HURT - he winced at the bright light that suddenly shone in his face, nearly blinding him.
He raised his hands to try and shield his eyes, when his arm was grabbed and he was shoved face first against the wall in an armlock, scraping the brick harshly.
"OW! Hey, hey, hey, ow, ow, ow..."
"You're in violation of curfew." he heard a voice say, sounding strange. He managed to look over his shoulder into the face-shield of an enforcer - police? Now?
"C-curfew? Agh!" he grimaced when his arm was twisted further, "AGH, no, no, I wasn't - I-I didn't know—!"
Another voice spoke up, "Noted. We will make sure notices are more thoroughly distributed after this. Though you think that'd be easy to remember, with all the monsters about... Sir, if you'll just state your name, location, and intent—" he felt his pockets being searched through, easily yanking out his wallet. No. No, no, no...!
"Oh. He's an American."
"N-no, man, please," Johnny begged, "I have a passport, you see my passport, it's right in—!"
"And you're in possession of a firearm." He felt his gun being taken away. He tried to struggle, but it hurt. "I don't suppose you have a license for this, do you?"
Were they serious? Johnny blurted out unthinkingly, "Who the heck has time to get one of those?!"
"Right." One of them sighed. Both of his arms were taken behind his back, and he felt the cold click of handcuffs on his wrists. No. "Okay, here's how it's going to go. We're going to take you in for breaching curfew, illegal residence and possession, and suspicion of rebellion involvement. If you cooperate, this might go easy for you." One of them checked into their radio, stating their patrol number and something else that Johnny couldn't catch, before he heard, "We might've got one. We're bringing him in."
No.
No.
"You're kidding. P-please," he stammered, struggling as they were leading him out, his whole body ached and his head pounded and there was nothing but panic bouncing around in his skull, "Y-you can keep the gun, you can keep it, please, I-I need to find someone, please!" He tried to will that stupid spell into his limbs, but instinctively knew that it'd worn itself out saving him from that stupid fall, and it would be a while before he could seriously use it, but by then he'd probably already be behind bars. What could protect him in a fight or a fall wasn't going to help him in a cell.
"Please!"
But what about Mavis? What was Mavis going to do without him? Where was she?
"Please, I just need to find her!"
Mavis!
. . .
Mavis looked at the thing nestled in the corner.
It was almost spherical, as high as her waist, as wide as her arm span, cushioned and anchored in layers of downy web, looking as soft and woolly as cotton.
"I couldn't go," Old Lady murmured quietly from behind her, voice gentler and hushed, "And I had no choice. Not when they still need me..."
The vampire glanced from the spider before looking back at the crystalline form of the egg sac, mixed feelings playing a harsh tug-o-war in her chest. She now recognized that tone in the spider's voice, the one she used for the cocoons magnified tenfold in the presence of her true children, the one Mavis had always heard Wanda the werewolf use around her pups, the voice of a mother...
Mavis swallowed, conflicted between - she's just helping her children - or - she's eating humans. She's eating humans.
But Old Lady was kind, she tried to be, she really was trying.
But what if one of those humans had been Johnny? Would you still say that?
And what could you do about it, really?
I don't know.
I want to go home now.
But I can't go home.
I'm very, very scared.
And I don't know what to do...
