Warning: Our hamster savior is a bit of a jerk in this one, and the language is inappropriate for Ivern mains.
An eerie mist hung above the dark soil of the cursed Shadow Isles, where the dead walk and murder freely, and the living expire shortly after arriving at the damned kingdom of lost spirits, the perverse capital of unlife.
There is an unnerving silence in the air, a lack of movement and signs of life. So far away from civilization and the modern wonders of magical devices the Isles are blanketed in shades of ashen, gray and black, and the only sound that reaches one's ears is a litany of wails sang by bleached skulls and ghoulish throats.
Pollution has found its way to even such a remote and uncharted country, however. Down by the shores, floating in inky waters, pieces of torn lumber, odorous froth and faded plastic rattle against the rotting bones of shattered ships. Tangled fishing nets, snapped ropes and fishing lines are splayed on top of the protruding rocks like giant cobwebs woven by frenzied spiders that have lost their reasoning and weave webs that portray the deteriorated state of their minds.
And like the tremendous amount of garbage that's been washed away on those desolate beaches, many an unfortunate soul has been shipwrecked to the blackened shores of the Shadow Isles, and has fallen prey to the untold horrors that lurk behind the land's clingy white curtain.
Indeed, many poor souls had perished after finding themselves stranded on the damned Isles. Be them smugglers and adventurous tycoons or fishermen that had been knocked off their boats during mysterious thunderstorms, all of them had been dragged into the shifting mist and had forever disappeared from the world of the living.
'And what of those few of them whose instincts had led them to flee from the mist?' You might ask. 'What fate befell those that had sought shelter from the undead monstrosities that stalked them from behind the fog and had hid inside one of the dank caves that litter these magic-stricken islands of entropy?'
Even those cunning and cowardly survivors had perished without exception, I'm afraid. Frightened and skittish they would readily rush into those gaping catacombs that traverse the land like fleshly tunnels dug by maggots in the body of a rotting cadaver, none the wiser about the nightmares those caves housed. And the fools that passed through the hanging jaws of jagged stone would always die lamenting their decision to flee from the mist and step foot inside the terrible caverns, the open mouths of the Shadow Isles that hunger for victims.
This story takes place inside one such gloomy cavern. A cavern connected to a series of underground tunnels leading to the nest of something despicable, an abominable and merciless Spider God...
Inside said cave, there is the pitter-pattering of dripping water, the spine-tingling skittering of many hairy legs and the annoying cacophony of a drunk Yordle beatboxing.
"Waka, waka, boom! Tis, boom, boom! Tis, bang, boom! Rananananaan, guitar solo!" Teemo sang loudly, barely visible under the light of a portable camping lamp, his squeaky voice bouncing off the walls of the underground chamber and producing a maddening echo that made Elise's head hurt.
The male Yordle appeared to be practically vibrating in its bindings as it sang, and it was Teemo's absurd excitement about being trapped in the darkness with a spider-controlling ritualistic serial killer that betrayed how wasted the hapless Yordle truly was.
Other than that, Teemo's nostrils had traces of a suspicious white powder, his bloodshot eyes were gleaming offputtingly, his face was turned away from the camping lamp, and the front of his vibrant sky-blue football t-shirt with the number 69 printed on it was stained with cheap beer.
"BOOM!" Teemo abruptly shouted towards Elise, scaring away a few of her spiderlings. He then tossed his head back and giggled loudly, causing the golden G-string that was hanging out from the pocket of his sagging jeans to swing back and forth like a kinky metronome.
Sighing to herself, the Spider Queen took her eyes from the reflection of her hand mirror to cast an exasperated glance towards her intended sacrifice to her unholy patron. The sacrifice that she was about to murder if the furry man didn't shut up this very instant!
For the tenth time in less than a minute, the red-headed shapeshifter cursed her luck for grabbing the infernal creature from the garden of a Yordle fraternity on her way to Vilemaw's lair. But then again, Elise reminded herself, she had just spotted some faint wrinkles near her eyes and she had been hard-pressed to find a victim to serve as Vilemaw's snack so she could reclaim her eternal beauty. How was she supposed to know that this giggling man-child would be so utterly infuriating?
"Would it kill you to stop being a nuisance for a few minutes?" The irritated mage snapped at her uncooperative guest after Teemo began making obscene farting noises. Elise usually didn't mind hearing the screams and the futile pleading of the people she damned as they were being devoured by her dark god, but Vilemaw was currently out hunting and the Yordle that produced so much unnecessary noise showed no signs of tiring out at all.
True enough, the insufferable rodent was making a fool of itself. Still tied to a chair in the middle of the underground chamber, the self-proclaimed Teemster as he had introduced himself to her, was shifting his body to the tune of his song, jerking his head left and right to the rhythm of his barked exaggerated car noises and wolf-whistling while looking at her legs, unashamedly. Those beady, lecherous eyes of his were starting to make even a seductress like Elise feel self-conscious.
"Would it kill you to touch my dong, bruh?" Teemo responded without missing a beat, winking mischievously at the frowning cultist, "I mean, you're rocking that black widow shtick, and I'm diggin', so when are you gonna climb on top of me so we can get this party started, babe?"
"Excuse me? You think that I'm planning to get romantically involved with you? Are you an idiot or just delusional?" Elise asked the intoxicated Yordle in a frosty tone.
People reacted to death in different ways: some got angry when they realized what she was intending to do with them, and others begged her to spare their lives, promising her power and riches. Among them, the ones that Elise abhorred the most were the pitiful ones that pretended that everything was perfectly fine until their last moments, coming up with bizarre reasons for her bringing them to Vilemaw's lair that didn't include them becoming a sacrifice and walking away with their lives intact.
"I mean..." Teemo drawled with a flirty smile that refused to leave his lips, his gleaming eyes staring at his captor's bosom, lustfully, "You've obviously brought me to this dark and dank cave so I can plunge into your own moist cavern, if you catch my drift?" There, the intoxicated Yordle attempted to enunciate its words with double finger guns, its silky bindings however prevented it from separating its arms from its sides.
Out of the corner of her eye, Elise saw a couple of her eight-legged children leading her youngest spiderlings out of the cave, shooting Teemo scandalized glares as they left.
"I would appreciate it if you kept your disgusting fantasies to yourself, especially in the presence of my children." Elise hissed at the bumbling idiot of a man who only laughed at her threat. If only she could just kill the damn rat… but then Elise would have to capture another mortal for Vilemaw.
"Deep breaths, Elise." The Spider Queen whispered to herself as the arachnid legs at her back unwittingly began rearranging themselves into yoga poses.
"Your children? You a milf? Damn! And I was wondering why you is so thirsty, woman, dragging me in the middle of nowhere so I can plow your everywhere, If you know what I mean. Dressing up like some kind of sexy vampire so you can suck my mushroom dry. You know what I mean? Are you a Spider-Woman cosplayer? 'Cause the web will be taking about me rappelling down between yo legs foralong time, babe. You know? You don't have'ta look for a fly, you can swallow me anytime, babe. If ya know what I mean? You might be the spider, but I can't wait to fill you up with my venom, mhmm, yeah!"
One by one the spiderlings started vacating the underground chamber, skittering into the shadows and entering sideway tunnels that led deeper underground, and climbing to ominous-looking woven nests dug into the cave's ceiling. And as the hissing tide of sleek black chitins and drooling mandibles ebbed away so did Elise's pale cheeks turned redder and redder, although the coloring of her deathly epidermis was not due to the seething cultist's embarrassment, but because Elise was nearly fuming with anger.
"You insignificant insect!" The Spider Queen hissed, her eyes flashing crimson in murderous rage as she angrily strode her way to the intoxicated Yordle. "How dare you make a fool of me in front of my brood?! Why, I ought to bite off your tongue and stich your mouth shut for this insult."
"But if you do that how am I supposed to lick yo tittes?" Teemo asked, scrunching up his bloodshot eyes in thought.
"You won't!" Shouted Elise, promptly seizing the furry man's face in her taloned hand and squeezing his cheeks painfully, the spider-mage's scarlet orbs literally glinting with killing intent at the prospect of finally silencing the Yordle.
"Nwo folpray?" Teemo mouthed as best as he could while Elise was attempting to crush the lower part of his face in her grip, his flushed features scrunched up in an expression of genuine, utter confusion.
"That's it! I'm reaping out your tongue and feeding it to my children!" The enraged woman snarled as she suddenly jumped on top of the restrained Yordle, straddling it, her free hand diving into Teemo's mouth to grab at his foul tongue. Oh she was going to enjoy this! Elise could hardly wait to silence the drunken buffoon once and for all!
*Thud*
A loud noise rang out from the shadowy entrance of the underground chamber, and Elise decided to temporary postpone maiming the obnoxious Yordle in order to turn her head and face the newcomer. There were all kinds of eldritch predators roaming this cursed land after all, and there was no guarantee that one of those ageless creatures hadn't been lured into this very cave by the tantalizing scent of living prey and the incessant babbling of the male Yordle.
As it turned out, however, Elise had no reason to be concerned, for standing at the entrance of the cave was none other than her beloved master, Vilemaw flanked by his best friend and occasional hunting companion, Hecarim.
Both undead horrors were wearing ratty trilby hats and tattered tweed jackets, and while the sight of Vilemaw's jacket straining to contain the impressive girth of the gargantuan spider god was certainly comical, Hecarim seemed to be in his element as he stood proudly on his four feet with his trusty shotgun held in a flawless side carry.
Beside the two hunting buddies and bleeding profusely on the floor of the dimly lit cave was the lifeless body of an overweight man in orange swimming trunks. Even from this distance Elise could tell that the unfortunate man's body had been riddled with buckshot holes, and she could only imagine how pleased Vilemaw and Hecarim must have been for being able to bag the fat mortal before the wraiths by the beach had gotten to him first.
"Master, allow me to congratulate you on today's successful hunt," Elise purred sensually, forgoing her previous anger at the Yordle's abrasiveness in lieu of donning her mask of indulgent subservience. "If I had arrived earlier, I would have loved to join you two and learn from your vast experience, but alas, unfortunately that wasn't the case." Elise laughed all-ladylike, the epitome of social charisma and elegance.
"But don't worry, my marvelous lord, noble rider of the Isles," The Spider Queen happily inclined her head to greet the unfathomable abominations that stood before her, "I wasn't merely wasting my time here, for as you can very well see I was busy pinning down this delectable little fly." She smiled viciously, showing them her pearly white teeth and her sharp canines, the depths of her crimson eyes sparkling with a twisted happiness that could rival the glee of Thresh when he found lost travelers wandering outside his lair.
A drawn-out second passed and then another one, and yet neither of the undead creatures offered the smirking Spider Queen their customary greetings. And not only that, but contrary to what Elise had been expecting, the two Shadow Isles denizens didn't appear to share her mirth and join her in her gloating. If anything, Vilemaw remained perfectly still staring at her with those myriad glassy eyes of his while Hecarim shifted awkwardly on his hooves.
"I..." The abominable amalgam of horse and man started, pausing to place a ghostly hand on top of one of Vilemaw's humongous spider legs, "I think that we should leave the two foals alone. We are obviously intruding on your adopted daughter's recreational activities." Hecarim noted, sounding embarrassed and uncomfortable, and even the cold flames that have been eternally licking at his undead visage with flickering tongues of spectral fire seemed to have turned an unprecedented magenta hue compared to their usual greenish blue color scheme.
"Recreational activities? What do you mean?" Elise questioned, tilting her head in confusion. Hecarim however was already walking away, dragging the unresponsive Vilemaw behind him, who simply kept staring at his puzzled protégé with glazed and vacant eyes.
"Oh, snap out of it," Elise heard the booming voice of Hecarim as the two Shadow Isles buddies turned around a corner and disappeared from her sight, "Elise is rocking that black widow shtick, it was only a matter of time until she brought a colt home. At least your little princess was still dressed when we barged in all of a sudden."
"What is that senile horse talking about? Why wouldn't I be wearing clothes?" Elise mumbled quietly in confusion. The Yordle below her just moaned something unintelligible in reply and Elise blinked owlishly after she focused her attention back to the obnoxious creature she had captured.
When she had been preparing to maim the damn rat, the Spider Queen had been too infuriated to notice that the height difference between Teemo and herself meant that when she had straddled him, Elise had also inadvertently shoved Teemo's face between her breasts, much to the delight of the intoxicated frat boy.
Now, for the first time since her master's arrival, Elise took a moment to ponder why Vilemaw and Hecarim had frozen upon spotting her on top of the furry nuisance with her body firmly pressed against that of her restrained victim's, the Yordle's face stuffed inside her cleavage, and her fingers lingering inside Teemo's mouth, coated in his saliva.
The spider cultist's eyes widened as realization suddenly dawned on her, a light dusting of pink spreading across her face. Her Master thought that she had brought that Yordle here to... He thought that she and the blasted rodent were...
"Nooooo! This isn't what you think, my Lord? Wait, I can explain!" The Spider Queen shouted as she hurriedly jumped off the lap of the liliputian man-child and bolted out of the underground chamber, stumbling, and bumping against the walls of the cave as she ran on her high-heels.
Teemo watched her go with an expression of immense disappointment on his face.
"Fucking shroomteases, man…" He muttered.
0000
A few minutes later…
The eerie mist parted and span at her heels as Kalista entered the domain of the accursed Spider God, the immoral beast that the ancients had rightfully named Vilemaw. Many lives had been claimed by the terrible arachnid titan that slumbered beneath the dead soil, lost travelers that had been seeking help, and others that had been deceived by his malignant followers.
Through in her relatively short life, Kalista hadn't fallen prey to the machinations of the Spider God and his bloody cult, Kalista still harbored a deep grudge towards Vilemaw and his ilk for the sinister web of betrayal and death that they wove across Runeterra.
Now, on a normal day, the Spear of Vengeance would love nothing more than to sink her spear into Vilemaw's black heart and watch as the detestable fiend ceased to move for the rest of eternity. This day, however, Kalista was paying her eight-legged neighbor a visit for reasons that had nothing to do with the brooding wraith's taste for the dramatic and everything that had to do with Kalista running out of cream for her morning coffee.
And so, with her spear in a death grip and her stern face set on a most gravely of expressions, the vengeful specter had found her way into Vilemaw's lightless palace.
Kalista traversed the dusty corridors that echoed with the noise of crawling things and wandered between curtains of sticky silk that hung like melancholic waterfalls from the ceiling of the massive cave.
The sentient wraith walked for what felt like hours in complete darkness, and yet, surprisingly enough, none of her neighbor's numerous pets appeared to obstruct her way or hiss at her threateningly for trespassing on Vilemaw's lair. In fact, for that matter, Kalista didn't encounter any manner of creature, be it living or undead until she entered a humongous room lit by the weak glow of a buzzing camping lamp.
There, a strange spirit unlike anything that Kalista had even seen sat on an antique chair, wrapped in cobwebs and covered in fur, smelling of life and of cheap cologne, and spilt alcohol.
Kalista tentatively approached the unfamiliar spirit, certain that whatever manner of deadly manifestation of the Isles' curse it was, this peculiar furry man must undoubtedly be powerful to be able to chase away Vilemaw and his sickening brood from the dark god's sunless domain.
Upon seeing her, the strange spirit whistled and giggled happily, and Kalista could swear that she could feel the being's hunger when those bloodshot eyes it possessed turned to stare at her pierced breastplate, fixedly. Its smile widened and then its mouth opened, and a shrill voice, like the screams of dying pixies echoed in the cave.
"Damn, another one?! I'm not complaining or anything, but man, the Halloween thots are coming out early this year."
Kalista paused to take in the strange being's words, she took a moment to try to decipher what ancient wisdom this furry godling was attempting to impart to her and understand its intentions. Unfortunately, however the meaning of the strange spirit's warning eluded her, and so Kalista slightly bowed her head in a show of, hopefully, mutual respect and stated in her monotone voice.
"Restless spirit, shackled through foul magiks, anchored to an existence of spite and woe. I've cometh to thee seeking cream for my humble beverage. In thy unbeating heart might thee findest within thee to grant me this cherished boon, I asketh?"
Furrowing his brows, the mysterious usurper of Vilemaw's dark kingdom pondered at Kalista's request as he sat upon his silk-encased throne. Kalista waited patiently, silent as the breath of a deceased man, unmoving like the tombstone of a forgotten ruler. Finally, after a terse minute or so, the powerful spirit must have come to a conclusion, for it licked its lips and lifted its hungry gaze from Kalista's battered breastplate.
"Bever-what? Look, babe, I don't really do three-syllable words, but you want my whipped cream, don'tcha?" Teemo asked eagerly. Truth be told, the lecherous frat boy had been staring at the anorectic cosplayer chick's boobs the entire time and he had only caught the end of her sentence, but he was pretty sure that she had said something about wanting his man-cream! And really, which gal didn't want a piece of the Teemster!?
"I wantest thy cream." Kalista confirmed, eliciting another loud whistle from the strange spirit.
*Clang*
Both Teemo and the Spear of Vengeance instantly whipped their heads around to discover the identity of the intruder when Hecarim's blood-stained glaive abruptly clattered against the cave's floor.
"How are you doing this?" Hecarim whispered in his hollow reverberating voice, sounding truly lost and uncertain, before his tone suddenly grew harsher and impatient, "First you've seduced Vilemaw's beloved spider-princess and now you have won over my arch-nemesis?! Ruination, just what kind of dark power flows inside your frail form!?"
Teemo thought about it and then shrugged. "Kledbull?" He chirped.
Author's note: I am crossing off names on my Teemo Harem list with the cold efficiency of a hired killer. Also, if anyone is curious about the name of Teemo's fraternity in this oneshot it's Ex Dee Kappa.