"Maya don't move.' Rowe stresses, his words soft, however as soon as he's finished, the demons head snaps to him, the skin of its neck twisted and stretched. Maya whimpers at the sight, her hand flying to her own neck because it isn't natural. How can it do that without ending it's own life?
The human-spiders pinchers fills with drool, and when it drips on her blanket, it sizzles and smokes, melting away fabric and fiber. She cries when it touches her skin and she kicks her blanket away. She hisses, watching her skin melt and blister.
"Don't move so much!" Rowe tells her, eyes wide as the spider twists to look back at her. Black strands of hair hang in the air, wet and slick.
Maya cries, hand raising to muffle the sound as she squeezes her eyes shut.
Fucking acidic too? Rome and Rowe glance at each other.
