A Spider is Slow, But Its Web Catches The Fastest Flies.
Matshona Dhliwayo:
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The forest stood as a haunting labyrinth, where towering skeletal trees stretched their gnarled branches toward the ashen sky. Evening cast its somber hues over the landscape, adding to the otherworldly gloom. Every surface—from the crumbling bark to the twisted undergrowth—was shrouded in dense, silken webs that glistened faintly in the dim, fading light. These webs draped like ghostly curtains between the trees, their intricate patterns forming a chilling tapestry that seemed alive in the half-light.
As the boy stepped into this part of the forest, it felt as though he had crossed into another realm. The ground beneath his feet was carpeted with brittle leaves and desiccated moss, their once-vivid colors drained to lifeless shades of gray and brown.
This realm stood in stark contrast to the lush greenery and vibrant, bluish-white sky he had traversed earlier. Here, not a single bird sang; no insects buzzed, nor did the rustle of hidden wildlife break the oppressive stillness. The silence pressed against his ears, amplifying the crunch of dried leaves and brittle twigs beneath his boots.
Occasionally, a faint, almost imperceptible rustle rippled through the webs, as if carried by an unseen, ghostly breeze. Yet the air itself was still and suffocatingly cold. Shadows pooled thickly in every hollow and between every tree, as if the forest consumed what little light dared to enter.
It felt abandoned yet alive—a place holding its breath, watching, waiting.
As the boy moved deeper, toward the source that he had found earlier, the oppressive stillness seemed to shift. Shadows grew restless, trailing him like living specters.
Here, the monsters were different—more territorial, more aggressive.
Unlike the ones he had previously encountered, which had reacted to his unexpected intrusion, these seemed to lie in wait, anticipating his arrival.
"Khssst."
A web, shimmering faintly with poison, shot down from above, narrowly missing him.
The boy smirked, his eyes scanning the treetops. These creatures weren't just defending their territory—they were hunters, and they were hunting him.
As more webs shot toward him from the shadows, the boy moved with precision, dodging each one effortlessly.
"These attacks? They're slow. The monkeys were much faster," he mused, recalling his previous encounter while sidestepping yet another silken projectile.
Dodging the final web, he crouched slightly, then sprang toward the source of the last attack with explosive force.
As he closed the distance, his sharp eyes scanned the abyssal darkness where the attack had originated. To an ordinary person, the pitch-black void would have been impenetrable, a perfect hiding place. But the boy's gaze pierced through the shadows, revealing a creature of eerie design.
Roughly the size of a large hawk, its sleek, lightweight body was a disturbing amalgamation of feathers and fine, spidery hairs. Eight segmented legs, each ending in small, clawed talons, shifted with unsettling grace. Two large, feathered wings sprouted from its back, their movements silent as death. Its head was a grotesque fusion of a bird's sharp beak and a spider's multifaceted eyes, gleaming with a predatory glint.
The creature's abdomen, distinctly arachnid, ended with a spinneret, from which the poisonous webs had been fired.
Using the shadows as a cloak, the creature blended seamlessly into its surroundings, "Impressive," the boy muttered, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
{AN: You Know What is most Impressive of them all, Hawks Are usually Half-Size of the Human.}
As he struck the black-legged eagle-like creature with a punch, its body crumpled under the force. From its shattered remains, smaller versions of the same creature emerged, scuttling in chaotic directions. They attempted to bite into his skin with their sharp beak-like fangs, but their efforts were futile; they couldn't pierce him. Quickly realizing this, the tiny creatures scattered and reformed, merging back into the same spider-hawk entity as before before disappearing into the shadows—or so it thought.
The boy, far from disgusted as most would be, felt a spark of amusement and intrigue. Instead of reacting with revulsion, he considered a different approach. "Crushing doesn't work," he mused. "Let's see how they handle something else."
He let fire flicker to life on his fingers but paused, deciding against traditional flames. Instead, he conjured cold flames, their eerie blue hue radiating a biting chill rather than heat. "Cold flames," he murmured. "They don't burn—they shatter."
Leaping from the branch he was perched on, the boy shot through the air as a stillness descended. Webs suddenly sprang from all directions, converging on him like a trap.
"Worth a try," he said with a smirk, effortlessly accelerating. Time seemed to stretch as he moved faster, each second expanding as he honed in on his target. His cold-flamed hand closed around the spider-hawk creature mid-motion.
There was no struggle, no writhing—only silence as the creature froze solid in an instant. Its grotesque form became a brittle, crystalline statue that shattered into fragments with the faintest pressure.
Before time seemed to resume its natural flow, the boy had already pinpointed the locations of every hidden hunter in the forest. One by one, the lurking predators fell, frozen solid by his cold flames and reduced to lifeless shards.
When the air stilled again, the forest was eerily quiet, the remnants of its hunters scattered like frost-rimed debris.
This might have worked under normal circumstances, but as the boy landed lightly on the forest floor, a screech echoed from deep within the woods. It was a grotesque sound, a chilling hybrid between a spider's chitter and an eagle's cry, its reverberations thick with menace.
The boy paused for a moment, amused. "What's the worst that could happen?" he muttered, before setting off in the direction of the sound at a casual, unhurried pace.
As he approached the source, the oppressive weight of the forest seemed to thicken. Most would have frozen in terror, paralyzed by the primal instinct to flee. For this wasn't just any creature that lay ahead—it was no bitchy clichéd predator, but a true monster of the Black Wilds, a nightmare rarely glimpsed and never survived.
The sky transitioned from the amber hues of dusk to the deep indigo of night, and with the darkness came life. The forest awoke in a chorus of eerie sounds: the chittering of unseen things, the rustle of countless legs, the crack of twigs underfoot. As he moved deeper, the ground beneath him writhed.
Millions of spiders—varying in size, shape, and grotesquery—emerged from the underbrush, their eyes glinting like scattered stars. They surrounded him, a living sea of movement, yet the boy merely stood still, a faint smile curling at the edges of his lips.
No fear darkened his expression, no hesitation marred his step. Instead, his gaze flickered with unbridled excitement, a predator's delight at meeting a challenge worthy of his attention.
"Hahahhahahaah" as a chorus of laughter rang through the forest….
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