#poor XL never even stood a chance did he

[gege]

Hualian ox cart scene in mobile headers 3

🍁  Part 1  🍁  Part 2  🍁  Part 3  🍁

No need to credit if you use, but a reblog would be appreciated!

[dany-is-my-queen]

Born To Be Yours | Part Xl

Sansa Stark x Fem! Baratheon! Reader (Daenerys Targaryen x Fem! Baratheon! Reader eventually) 

Season 1-8

Word Count: 1,375

Note: Hey guys!! It’s been a year since I started this series and I was really excited to continue, I really was. But months flew by and my life began to take a different course, now, I can’t make promises that I’ll be uploading soon again, though I will try if I have time to spare and my imagination cooperates :) Hope you enjoy this chapter! And thank you all for your patience, it’ll be rewarded!

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6 Pt.7 Pt.8 Pt.9 Pt.10

Months have flew by way too fast. And now you were feeling more confident around the northern lady and your family. You’d keep her from any harm they would try to inflict on her no matter the consequences, yet you were cautions cause Joffrey was still so damn annoying. Though since Margaery arrived to the capital she has been keeping him rather distracted.

“Because the truth is always either terrible or boring.”

“Am I boring?” You approached Sansa from behind, daintily kissing her cheek.

“Not at all.” She answered with a broad simper.

“You shouldn’t be too obvious in plain sight.” Shae subtly advised.

“You are right. We should be more careful.” You peered up to see if the guards were staring your way, when you confirmed they were not you stole a kiss on her silky lips. She giggled.

“Have a lovely day. I’ll meet you later. My grandfather requested my presence.” It was true... Tywin wanted to speak privately with you, and you sort of imagined why.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

“My ladies.” You winked playfully at Sansa before walking away.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Shae asked Sansa well knowing the answer to her own question.

“She is perfect.” She let out a love sigh.

“You trust her?”

“The princess has always treated me with respect. I always dreamed with a handsome knight or a sweet prince, then I met her and she is far more better than any of that.” Sansa confessed.

“She seems to be a good girl.” Lord Baelish approached the two women.

“Lovely day for it. May I speak with lady Sansa alone for a moment?” Shae stood up and walked back to Ros.

“I saw your mother not long ago. She’s very eager to see you. And your sister.” He commented.

“Arya’s alive?”

“Oh yes. Indeed she is. But... I’ve noticed you’ve grown quite attached to princess Y/N.” He chose carefully his words.

“I have. She is and extraordinary friend.” Sansa added. “I’m very lucky to be her friend.”

“You are. I’m waiting for word on an assignment that will take me far away from the capital. When I set sail, I might be able to bring you with me. But you’d need to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice.” Sansa widen her eyes. She didn’t really want to leave now... did she? After all she knew she’ll never be truly free here.

“I... I’m not sure if that’s a wise idea, Lord Baelish.” She conflicted admitted.

“And why’s that? Other than the risks it involves of course.”

“Well, as I said before, King’s Landing is my home now. It has good things despite the corruption.” Only Y/N, she thought.

“All right then. The offer stands, my lady. Keep it in mind.” He turned around to leave Sansa wondering if she’d abandon you to return home or staying here by your side.

“You are glowing, granddaughter of mine.”

Tywin was jotting down something with a quill. “Is there a boy already?” It sounded more like a statement rather than a question. You tried not blush as Sansa’s picture coming to your mind.

“Mmm... no. There is not a... boy.” You concluded kinda nervous.

“If there is not then you should be looking for a suitable swain. I reckon you have many admirers waiting to receive your attention.” He said with a serious tone. Does he really mind? Of course he does. He wants to get a hold of another loyalty for House Lannister. “Many lords would give their whole lands to marry you. And we might need that.”

“But that’s not what I need.” You responded nonchalantly. It was true. All you truly needed and longed for was the love of someone who valued you. And you already found that in a northern lass. You knew he disapprove entirely your “reckless” choices, same as your mother. You’d fight back and won’t allow them to throw you into some random man’s arms.

You stepped inside Joffrey’s dining table. You always enjoyed to hang with the Tyrell siblings, but now that she’s engaged to your brother... you wonder how she’s been managing to handle him. After all, she’s one of the cleverest persons you know.

“Margaery does a great deal of work with the poor back in Hightgarden. I’ve heard Y/N do charity for the poor here as well.” Loras commented. You nodded. The soon to be queen smiled softly your way.

“The lowest among us are no different from the highest if you give them a chance and approach them with an open heart.” You mirrored her act.

“An open heart is what you’ll get in Flee Bottom if you’re not careful, my dear. Not long ago, we were attached by a mob there. We had a full complement of guards that didn’t stop them. The king barely escaped his life.” You hid your smirk.

“My mother’s always had a penchant for drama. Facts become less and less important to her as she grows older. Our lives were never truly in danger.” You rolled your eyes at his lies.

“Oh but they were. You didn’t even care about sending the guards to get lady Sansa back to the Keep. A king is supposed to ensure the safety of all the ones that are in need. You seem to keep failing on that, big brother.” You sensed his furious glare upon you.

“Who cares about her anyway.” You clenched your jaw tightly. Loras and Margaery keep their eyes on their dinner.

There was an awkward pause as the main course was brought to the table. The rest of the evening was all about the same. Joffrey flaunting about his “bravery” and Cersei flattering him all along. Margaery showing off a wide smile at his non sense.

~~~~~~

You strolled to your room exhausted after training with the bow and horse-riding with little Tommen. Before that you decided to pay a visit to Sansa’s chambers. You knocked the door twice and she beamed with delight.

“I hope it isn’t too late to stop by.”

“No, I was about to get under the sheets. Perhaps you can join me?” She suggested with a gaily grin. You chuckled. Seeing Sansa being so... awfully bold was so nice and pure. Being around you made her forget about the fact she’s a prisoner. It didn’t matter as much when you were together.

“I’d love that.” You entered the room, holding her by the waist and leading both of you to the bed.

“How was your day then?” You smoothly asked. She tossed to be face to face with you.

“Actually, it was wonderful! Ser Loras escorted me to the gardens with Lady Margaery and Lady Olenna. They were very kind to me. We had lunch together and chatted for a while.”

“That sounds lovely, my lady. I’ve always consider Lady Olenna as the grandmother I never had. She knows me since I was a baby. Now that they are here I’ve been reminiscing about the good old days when we wouldn’t stop joshing Loras about me beating him on a single duel. We were so young back then... I’ll always hold dear those moments. He may be moody and brash at times, still, he is complete gentleman. Water’s sometimes thicker than blood. That’s for sure.” The Tyrells were your second family, they welcomed you with open arms and never once judge you. Unlike your own blood, with exceptions of course.

“Back in Winterfell I was so focused on learning how to properly be a lady and all that, that I missed many things... I should’ve been closer to Robb, Arya, even Jon. I was mean.” Sansa’s voice cracked.

“Don’t lose faith, Sansa. I know it’s too much to ask for but life takes unexpected turns.” You brushed one of her ginger locks with your right hand.

“I found a new home.” She whispered lightly. “Not Kings Landing. Not this castle. You.” She unhurriedly closed her crystal eyes. Your heart was at her mercy, that was a fact. You caressed gently her cheek and sealed the night with the most tender kiss anyone could dream of.

“You are my home too, my love.” You breathed against her lips.

[wei-suibian]

TCGF+SV AU

Or basically, an Au i’m never going to actually write, but post snipets off because it’s fun. I’ve seen lots of BingQiu adopting little WWX, and i raise you, XL adopting little LBH. This Au works within the assumption that all MXTX novels hapen in the same universe, but different continents. Also, this first part doesn’t tell you much, next one to follow shortly, be ware of knives.

Part 2: HERE

1- Luo BingHe's suffering 

Luo BingHe was an orphan raised by a washerwoman. He was an orphan, abandoned by the Luo river, left to be carried by the currents and meet the fate the heavens had planned for him. His adoptive mother- His mother, was a sweet and caring woman, who had not even enough to feed herself and worked to the bone everyday, but even so took him in and cherished him as her own flesh and blood.

He was raised poor, but loved.

As soon as he was old enough to understand the world, his mind was filled with the tought that he wished he could do more for her, make it so their lives wouldn't be so harsh. He owed it to her. She would bring back from the house she served in all the leftover food, given to her when she begged enough. They would give her the oldest and most worn out books and permitted her to take them home if she worked twice as hard the next few days.

She would grovel and kneel, asking for the scraps of cloth the young masters no longer used, saying she needed to make some robes for winter or she would freeze to death. The household master only agreed to stop hearing her babbling, always making sure he got something in return, of course. Everytime his mother came back with bruises on her wrists and a pale face, Luo BingHe wanted nothing more than to disappear, so she wouldn't have to suffer like this.

All the scraps of food were for him. The books, she gave to him so he learnt to read and write, hoping he could be better than her, who never had the chance to stop being illiterate. The scraps of cloth were woven into simple winter robes that he wore so as to not freeze to death, his mother's touch in every stitch and flower embroidered on his sleeves.

Everything she did, she did for him. And he yearned for the day when he would stop being a burden. That was why, when he was five, he ran to the streets and began doing anything he could to bring back whatever he could get his hands on; food, clothes, wood to fix their ceiling, anything was fine. He didn't care if he had to beg, or cry, or steal.

He was willing to do anything to help the only family he ever had.

More often than not, stores would let him take the nearly spoiled ingredients or the scraps that were about to be tossed out, and he learnt that his skills in cooking were good. Luo BingHe taught himself to write, read, and perfected his kitchen techniques over the course of a year, his books a great help.

Although he usually didn't have many ingredients, his talent was obvious. His dishes always tasted delicious, and his mother always smiled and praised him when she ate his food. It made him extremely happy. Happy enough that he didn't notice the signs that something was wrong until it was too late.

One day everything was fine, and then it wasn't.

His mother died, utterly exhausted, alone in their home when he went to beg to the household master for a bowl of congee, worried for his mother's thin body. He hadn't been able to gather any food lately, people storing even the smallest of scraps for winter, so his only choice was to cry and beg at his mother's employer for some food, even just a little.

He was denied. And when he returned home, the cold, lifeless body of his mother was what greeted him. He stood still for what seemed like hours, and then cried for so long he didn't know if it was days, or weeks. When he was clear-headed enough to steady himself, he found out his mother had left him a small letter and a jade pendant.

The letter said to sell the pendant to buy food and survive, to look for a job and do whatever he needed to do to keep on living. She told him she loved him, that he was her son, and she was really proud of him. Luo BingHe knew that this letter wasn't written by her, she'd probably paid someone to write it in her stead. And that only meant she knew she was going to die soon, and she'd said nothing.

The feeling in his gut couldn't be explained in words. It was stronger than guilt. It hurt.

He ignored his mother's wishes and tried to sell the pendant to arrange a funeral for her. The store owner just threw him out, called him a swindler, sneered at his face, and told him to get lost. Luo BingHe returned home like a drifting spirit, empty and soulless.

'I cannot even give my mother a worthy funeral.' He lamented and wept, kowtowing by her bed in repentance. In the end, he had to take her out himself, and bury her under the tree in the small backyard, with only a wooden scrap with her written name to mark the place where she would forever rest. It took him all evening to do it, and, by the time he was done, it was already night, the cold biting at his skin, the stench of his own vomit making him want to gag once more.

After that, life was harsher than even before. He was left alone, too young to properly take care of himself in any way that was useful. He was only six and a half, no one would hire him, and with time, people were less and less willing to give him food as winter came full-force, and the other street rats had their eyes on him, hateful stares in the direction of the one stealing their meals.

Still, he would try everyday, then return to his run-down house, nearly frozen by the low temperature, hungry and cold and wondering if he would survive to see spring. His hut had leaks, and the rain got in, making everything moldy and humid as he slept on the floor, unable to bring himself to lay on the bed that was his mother's last resting place.

There was always a draft when the wind blew, and the chill seemed to have gotten under his skin and into his bones. He couldn't find warmth no matter how much he tried, he was weak and powerless and tired. He thought things couldn't get worse. And then a flood came and his only home was swept away by the current, leaving him on the streets and with nothing but the clothes on his body and the jade pendant his mother gave him.

Things only got worse from there on out.

The orphaned kids on the streets were ruthless, they hit him and slandered him, kicked and punched and wounded him in every way possible, be it physical or mental. He was beaten black and blue, chased from alleys and corners, unable to rest and growing more and more weary by the day. He didn't know how he did it, but he managed to live for a year, doing things he'd never thought of doing, whatever dignity he had left trampled under his own foot as he tried to fulfil his mother's last wish: survive.

He'd managed to avoid those street rats well enough, being smarter than them and finding hiding places they could only dream off. He'd barely seen them once a week or so, moving from one end of the city to another, never staying in the same spot. After so long, he thought he'd grown numb, that nothing could hurt anymore.

And then they spoke ill of his mother, and he snapped.

Something inside him broke, like a dam, and a current swept by his body and veins, making him burn and thrum with energy, his forehead feeling like the sun was scorching his skin, but the sky was cloudy. The kids started screaming that he was a demon, that he had red eyes, and the adults came instantly running- Not out of fear for the kids that had no one to care for them, but for the possibility of someone dangerous nearby.

They brandished knives and sickles, sticks and stones, and approached him as they shouted and yelled that he was a monster, their eyes filled with hate and disgust. Luo BingHe didn't know what was going on, he turned his head and saw a mark shining bright red like blood being reflected on a piece of glass, felt the wisps of dark energy swirl around his body and felt his breath leave him.

The villagers were eager to kill him, shouting 'monster', 'demon', 'abomination'. They surrounded him as he screamed, his body littered with cuts and stabs that would begin to heal as soon as they were inflicted, only prompting the villagers to cut him more, hit him more, stab deeper, harder, not letting him time to breathe.

He cried and begged, pleaded for mercy, but no one listened to him.

It hurt. It hurt so much. He just wanted it to stop.stop.stop.STOP.

Something burst, lashing out and breaking both his body and the earth under his back. The sky lit up with flames, people screamed and shouted and ran, and Luo BingHe's vision filled with red, then black. By his side, a dark swirl gurgled and dripped, like ink slowly tainting the floor, coating it in a syrupy liquid that sizzled as it made contact. Nothing could be seen inside this space, and no sound seemed to come from it. It was just pitch black nothingness, like an abyss.

Curses came anew, the people were regaining their wits and approaching him again, ignoring the rift that floated right besides his body. Maybe they can't see it? Was what he thought. But he had no time to ponder over this. The villagers, now fueled by anger and fear, ran at him with the intention to run him through.

On one side, he had a hateful mob ready to torture and kill him. On the other, a mysterious and ominous portal that could lead to instant death. Presented with a slow and painful death filled with endless suffering and the possibility of immediate relief, Luo BingHe chose instant death, and immediately leap through the rift, disappearing without a trace.

The shadows swallowed him whole, and he blacked out.

He thought he would die, but when he opened his eyes, he found himself in a place he didn't recognize, rain hitting his face, laying on an empty alley littered with countless cloth and scraps, proof that other beggars lived there. The roofs were different from what he was accustomed to, the windows bigger and rounder, and when he staggered to a main street, he found out the faces that passed by were unknown to him, new.

He was in a city he didn't recognize, but that was a good thing. He covered his forehead with his messy hair, tried to cover his wounds with his tattered robes as he felt how they slowly healed, and plopped down on the corner of an alley, waiting for his body to stop hurting so he could go and beg for food.

His body never did stop hurting, and he rarely slept. Everytime someone tried to be gentle with him, he brushed them away and ran, hoarding his food and water and trying his best to keep himself alive, trusting no one. That alley became his home for the foreseeable future, a place to return to in which he stayed for a long six months.

One would say he adapted very fast, but after all, homeless was homeless. The streets were the streets. The city didn't matter. It was the same eveywhere.

Nothing changed.

Until it did.

[bananashemmo]

When We Collide (Part 47)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: NC-17

Masterlist: Here

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand

When We Collide on Wattpad

“The theories and articles are in fact, correct. Young movie director, Luke Hemmings, has in fact confirmed a kidnapping has been committed at his apartment. Investigators are currently performing their best to investigate the crime scene which is the director’s New York City luxurious penthouse apartment. The girl we are looking for is the director’s assistant, Y/N Y/L/N. Female, late in her pregnancy and with signatures looking like the following...” 

Words seemed so faint in the background Luke couldn’t really fully focus if it was actually happening beside him. 

His ass was so harshly pressed against the couch he was sure he would fall through the cushion and through the floor any second by now.

He felt completely numb. 

Say it would have been days. It felt like it, like the time was completely snailing through everything. But it wasn’t. It had only been minutes, maybe an hour before everyone had figured it out. 

Investigators were walking around the ‘crime scene’ talking about everything. He wasn’t listening. He was trying to think who wanted their revenge. 

Hands were pressed together the color on his skin had almost turned white. More likely a yellow, expressing that he was basically cutting off his blood system. 

It wasn’t that it hurt, he almost couldn’t feel it. The only thing he could feel was his heart pound faster than ever almost begging to come out from his chest. It was the only thing that actually hurt, besides the constant fear resting inside of him. 

If he looked over his shoulder he could hear people talk. It was serious, he could tell and he knew he most probably had to listen but he was completely stuck to the couch.

Only a question here and there was answered. Where did he see you the last time, what were the last words and what had you worn today. It was like the only thing he could remember was your face as you left. 

You should never have left in the first place, he thought. 

It would have changed everything. He wouldn’t have been in this position now. 

“The shirt is size XL. Suspect must be tall, at least 6′2 and fingerprints are about to get recognized from the sleeve.” A female investigator explained as she wore blue gloves and shared it with another worker. 

Shoe prints on the balcony floor are currently being scanned. Nobody touches the floor before we are done.” Another one said but Luke didn’t even want to turn around to look. 

He was in clear shock and everyone was giving him a small rest just to adjust what was going to happen. 

His eyes flicked towards the investigator with chestnut colored hair walking past him as she put the black hoodie in a plastic bag. 

He scanned it for a short second but it wasn’t something he could recognize. Like, everyone was wearing such shirts nowadays it would be impossible to remember one not wearing something like that. 

As the investigator walked out of the front door she almost collided into a tall Ashton and Calum wanting to get inside of the apartment. 

“It’s okay.” Luke held a hand in the air when one of the police officers held them outside to block them. 

“They’re with me.” 

For the first time in a while he stood up from his couch and walked forward. He could tell so many questions were crowded inside of Ashton’s head but there was no way possible he could answer them all. 

“What-, Uh-,” Calum was the one speaking up at first but he clearly couldn’t understand what in the world was going on. 

“Who took her?” Ashton was more settled with his question, eyes wide and dark just like the tone of his voice. 

“If I knew, you’d think all these people would fill up my apartment?” Luke asked back.

He didn’t want to be rude but with his mood and the many thoughts in his mind he couldn’t help but fire back a sneaky comment. 

Ashton understood right away the mood Luke was in, god he could totally relate to the situation he was standing in. Instead, he decided not to say something to it and ran a hand through his hair. 

“What is he doing here?” He decided to ask instead, referering to Michael talking to some sort of interviewer. 

“He was with me when she was kidnapped.” Luke explained, looking at Michael as well. He was baffling his arms in the air almost as if he was telling a story that was totally exaggerated. 

Ashton and Calum both glanced at Luke by the mention, one eyebrow being lifted but it took Luke some seconds to realize what they were thinking. 

“And that doesn’t ring a bell?” Calum asked and crossed his arms, “Don’t you think it’s just a tiny bit shady he’s in the apartment at the same time as your assistant slash pregnant roomie gets kidnapped?” 

Luke looked between the both of them and it took him a split second to hurry towards Michael and pull him away from the interviewer.

Michael was pretty startled by the sudden hands on his shoulders, he barely got the chance to apologize to the interviewer before he was pulled away completely and pressed into the kitchen with Calum and Ashton. 

“Woah, security guards, what is going on?” He almost raised his hands in surrender and looked between them with confused eyes. 

“Michael, look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.” Luke looked at him seriously almost straight up in his face. There was no doubt in his tone that he needed the answer right away. 

“What?” Michael blinked twice, almost needing the question to be repeated. 

“You think I,” He pointed at himself, “Had anything to do with this?” 

Luke looked at Michael with a shrug in the shoulder. When he thought about it he couldn’t just accuse him of something there wasn’t any clues to but he just needed to be sure. The whole investigation could be pointless. 

“Luke come on.” Michael almost looked hurt, “After everything we’ve been through you believe I would steal your poor pregnant assistant? I could have easily bought myself a better one instead of just stealing her.” 

“Yeah, he didn’t do it.” Calum mouthed to Ashton in a whisper but Luke heard. 

“Don’t judge the guy, he’s blond.” Ashton muttered back, making both Luke and Michael turn their heads towards them. 

“I can’t believe you would think I could do such thin-,” 

“Yeah that’s great pretty boy.” Ashton mumbled and turned around quickly, “He’s out of suspect let’s hear what the police has to say.” 

Michael almost felt offended by being interrupted in his deep speech, his eyes blinking open and watched as Luke also turned around to leave. 

At first he just stared at them not realizing what was going on but afterwards he hurried to stand in their heels as they approached the investigators and the police. 

“Any news?” Luke asked, standing behind the lady officer sitting in front of the computers they had set up on the dinner table. 

“So far, nothing. We’ve checked camera rolls, video clips from down the streets but the suspect has been quiet the clever Cloe. No files seem to be erased yet there is nothing to find. It’s like whoever has stepped out from the apartment has completely vanished.” 

“Maybe you should reload some of the clips from the elevator? Maybe we can kind something in that.” Ashton suggested, standing next to Luke with furrowed eyebrows. 

“If the suspect hasn’t taken the stairs.” Calum mentioned quieter, already thinking forward but it was worth the shot. 

The lady officer nodded her head in agreement and typed things onto the keyboard. Files spread on the three large computer screens they had put up for the investigations and it was a lot of things to look through.

“There.” Ashton pointed at one clip, “That timing and date seems perfect.” 

“Let’s check it out.” The lady officer mumbled and she pressed her finger with a spare of cards symbol tattoo onto the mouse to load on the screen.

They all waited in anticipation as the file suddenly came up on the screen, showing someone stand with a black hoodie over their shoulders with the back facing the camera. 

“That must be him!” Ashton exclaimed intensely, “Or her, for the matter.” 

“I’m not sure if it’s the same hoodie. Seems more like a jacket.” The lady officer explained and when the second was at the most dramatic, everyone sighed in deep disappointment. 

“That’s Michael.” Luke almost wanted to smack his head against the table. 

As the person turned around and revealed who it was, the clear significant pointed to Michael. The blond hair, the stubble around the chin and the sunglasses to cover his face. 

“That’s me!” Michael commented in an exciting tone and a smile broke to his face. 

“Man, I look good in an elevator.”

Silence fell upon the room by the sudden comment, all eyes adverting to Michael who clearly didn’t understand the dramatic point of the situation. 

“You bring a flat iron with you?” Calum almost couldn’t ask the question as he looked on the tape. 

“What?” Michael asked and softly ran his fingers through his hair, “It’s hard to control the hair at cold months because it curls in the ends so I need to bring my straightener after leaving my house. I always carry it in my bag and it’s the reason why I wear my hoodie over the head. It protects the hair.” 

A moment of another silence was completely offered to Michael. At least twenty eyes were staring at him almost in disbelief and it wasn’t until Calum coughed attention went back to the screen. 

“The tapes are pointless. Calum is right. He or she must have taken the stairs.” The lady officer confirmed and another sigh of disappointment came from Luke. 

“We have to do something.” He almost wanted to pull his hair out in frustration. 

“Try give me your phone again.” She requested and Luke did as told, pulling it out from his pocket.  

“And you’re sure the I.D caller was Unknown?” She asked, almost not wanting to touch it because it being such a clue to the whole investigation.

“I’m completely sure. Neither did I recognize the voice. It was completely unknown to me and I meet a lot of people in life. That voice, I couldn’t remember.” 

The lady officer nodded her head in understanding and nodded a few people over to help. Luke and the others nodded intensely. 

“What we are going to do is to hope that the suspect has seen the flash news on TV and such. It makes them believe they are something important, that their mission is heading towards the right direction. Hopefully, we expect they are going to call you again as you still haven’t proceed to do something about the kidnapping.

“Well that’s because some officers haven’t allowed me to leave the place.” Luke said almost through gritted teeth and glared towards the door. 

“Exactly, but see it as a benefit, Mr. Hemmings.” The lady officer explained.

“What we are going to do is we will connect the phone to our system. If the phone calls again we will be able to track it all over the state at every mobile post that exist. It works almost 100% correct whether the I.D caller is known or Unknown.” 

“But how do I make it call again?” Luke asked, not but getting the answer he wanted. 

“We can’t decide that.” The lady officer saddened in her tone, “It’s all up to the suspects.” 

Luke sighed heavily and looked down at his feet. It felt like no matter how many times things seemed to head forward he was stuck in the same position as before. 

“We will wait.” He said bravely, “No matter if it takes all night then so be it.” 

Luke headed away from the table just to get a breath of air. He didn’t know where to go because it was impossible and it didn’t take long before another interviewer showed up to speak with him. 

“Luke?” She was careful in her tone, not wanting to disturb but still wanted to do her job. 

“Heather.” Luke said back, recognizing her bouncy blond curls. 

“I don’t want to disturb if you’re in deep thought,” She was still careful, “But is there anything you want to say to the world before we turn off for the night?” 

Luke looked at her ready to reject but then a sudden confusion came to his face. It changed quickly to something that seemed to settle on something he took the microphone out of her hand. 

His face was directed pointed towards the camera and he breathed in deeply to find the right words to say. 

“Whoever did this. Whoever had the heart to do something so idiotic as kidnapping someone to get a benefit is what god wishes as something only happening in the movies. I hope whoever have done this to not only me but also to the girl that I love have the baddest feeling in the mouth. Nobody wants to go through the feeling of doubt, confusion and the constant fear of nothing moving forward like the way I’m feeling right now. Trust me when I say that I can feel my heart ready to pound out of my chest. Trust me when I say I can feel my throat ready to turn upside down. Trust me when I say that I’m ready to commit a murder of whoever decided to kidnap Y/N because this won’t end well and heads will roll.” 

He looked at the kidnapper almost pressing the microphone into her chest, “That’s all I have to say to the idiots.” 

Heather looked pretty surprised by Luke’s words, a little speechless but she seemed satisfied with what she got. 

Luke cleared his mouth from the small bit of salvia that had arrived from not breathing through the words and his eyes were quick to glance back when movements came from behind him. 

“The phone is calling.” The lady officer announced loudly and waved her hand for Luke to come. 

“I.D caller is unknown, start the tracking devices.” She instructed harshly and Luke hurried over to grab the phone out of her hand. 

“Remember, no provocation.” She warned at him carefully, pointing a finger at him.

Luke nodded his head and swallowed thickly as he answered the phone and shut his eyes. 

“Hello?” 

His voice almost echoed in the apartment, it was so quiet. Nobody was speaking a word, they didn’t dare to. The only thing was low machine noises coming from the detectors trying to register where the phone call was from.

Seconds passed by but nobody said a word. Luke was almost confused if it was just someone else calling out of accident but then he heard small sounds coming from the other end of the phone. 

“Luke? Luke-, Please is that you?” 

When he heard your voice he almost couldn’t believe his words. It cut through his heart like a sharp knife.  

Ashton felt a jolt go through his body by your tone but Calum held him back from saying or doing something out of reaction. 

“Lu-, Luke please, you have to do somethin-,” When the line was completely cut off so did Luke’s breathing. 

“Did you get it?” Calum asked almost loudly as he watched the computers still trying to regestrate where it was coming from. 

It was a stressful situation, it was hard to tell what was going on. Ashton and Calum were staring at the screen while Luke stood completely frozen with the phone not believing his ears. 

“We’ve got it.” The lady officer announced when the screen changed with an address and google maps. 

“We’ve found the location of the phone.” 

“No time to fucking waste.” Luke, Ashton and Calum hurried towards the door with the rest of the crew. 

“We need to leave right in the second. Get spread in the cars.” 

Michael still stood by the computers looking confusedly around down at his fingers. It took him some time to register what had suddenly happened and he hurried towards the door as well. 

“I’m going with you! This could be the biggest comeback of a movie ever.” 

Luke barely heard what Michael had to say but neither did he care. Just the sound of your panic voice was enough to make him storm out of the door with a headed direction. 

Little didn’t he known how cold, alone and scared you felt tied to a chair. 

You had no idea for how long the drive had been, how you had suddenly appeared it almost felt like you had been drugged. You could have compared it to drinking and getting the blackouts. 

Nothing seemed to be remembered clearly and god how you just wished you could get the headache away. 

You were sure of one thing. You were tied to a chair. It was pretty obvious and you could feel how it was tightening around your stomach. They didn’t take anything for care and they had no hopes of believing you were okay. 

“Did you hear the sound of his voice? He sounded so panicked!” 

“Yeah I was pretty amazed too! Who could care that much for a poor girl and I baby. I wouldn’t. It doesn’t come with any benefits.”

You weren’t sure if you wanted to smack your head back and hopefully hit the back of the chair. That was how tired you were of listening to the two large tall males who had kidnapped you the second you came down to the last floor of the apartment. 

They only went by the letters T and G. Most probably to cover up their original names and most importantly not to spoil anything when they had placed the phone to your mouth. 

“Did you see him on the TV? He’s a wimp and I’m most probably can’t do a thing about anything.” 

“Was he that bad in bed when he knocked you pregnant? He can’t even keep his arms up for a second I don’t believe he could do the same with his dick.” The guy to the left commented after banging his hand on the small TV.

His friend was laughing next to him, pretty amused by the situation. 

“How about the two of you shut up for a second and start telling me what the hell is going on?” You were both stubborn but scared at the same time. They seemed like losers but still remained scary with their tall shadows. 

“How about you shut up? I told you not to say anything as long as you were under our domand.” The guy to the right knocked on the TV once to get the channel right and headed towards you. 

“Or, do I need to remind you again?” He headed forward and cold shivers ran down your spine as he collected a knife. 

“You know that I can easily tear your pretty face with this?” He slowly pressed the blade against your cheek, “Or let’s say something else. An arm? Your stomach?” 

“You don’t touch her.” You said through gritted teeth teeth but gasped when he grazed the knife against your arm. 

“Oh so it’s a girl!” He said as if it actually impressed him and watched the blood leak from your arm. 

It wasn’t a deep cut but enough for you to flinch. You couldn’t even remove the droplet of blood because of your hands being tied but you watched it slowly fall down onto your lap. 

“Don’t act like you’re happy on my behalf.” You spat, almost not wanting to start the argument. 

“But I am.” He said and spread his arms, “A girl means she’s already wrapped around his little finger! That only adds up your chances of survival you know. If he gets here in time.” 

You watched him head towards a desk filled with cobweb. The place wasn’t really anything to brag about, it smelled horrible and could have been cut out from a scene. 

“What is this? Why did you kidnap me?” You had asked the question a couple of times now. 

“I’ve already answered you this.” The one still standing by the TV sighed. 

“You’re the key to the diamonds.” 

“I don’t get where you’re going.” You quivered an eyebrow and sincerely wished he could continue. 

“To get to Luke, you need to get close to the thing he loves the most.” 

“And that’s me?” You almost couldn’t believe his words. 

“It’s you.” He pointed at you with a smile and moved the knife down, “And the baby.” 

“But what about revenge?” You couldn’t get the things to seem right. Nothing seemed right about this, there was something he wasn’t telling you and you couldn’t figure it out. 

“Who wants revenge if it’s the diamonds that are demanded?” 

“I can’t tell you.” He shrugged like it was nothing and laughed. He was either being really stupid or just enjoying giving you this pain. You were left with no information. 

“But aren’t you the one wanting revenge? Wanting the diamonds.” You looked between them, “The both of you.”

“Nahh.” The other one shrugged and crossed his arms, “We’re just the ones taking orders.” 

You looked between them trying to read their faces but you couldn’t get them to say anything. You looked over their shoulders by the doors that were faintly covered by white duvets. 

It wasn’t clear to see but two shadows were also creeping behind, not wanting to reveal their faces but you could feel the lump in your throat ready to choke you. 

“Please tell me this is just a nightmare.” You whispered to yourself but as another droplet of blood hit your thigh you realized the reality. 

[ecotone99]

[HR] They Crawl Below

Jane leaned across the arm of my deck chair and whispered something dirty. Kurt squealed on my lap, gasping as the fireworks exploded over our heads. The reflection of the star burst of colours on Lake Whitemer looked like an identical firework was going off not so far from where we sat, I’m sure Kurt believed that was really the case. He couldn’t talk, but on the off chance he chose this moment to spit out his first word, Jane did not want to chance him drawing a selection from the pool of what she was saying now.

“What do you think?” she asked, fluttering her eyelids.

“I think whoever’s putting on the big show across the water had better cut it so I can get you to bed,” I replied.

“It’s the fourth of July,” she pointed out. “The Americans will keep at it until the sun comes up.”

I pulled myself out of the deck chair and passed Kurt to his mother. He made a happy little hiccupping noise as he moved through the air.

“Bed time,” Jane said, cradling him. “I’m afraid it’s past both of our bedtimes. Your father is going to spank me if I don’t get to bed soon.”

She looked when I didn’t answer, half amused and annoyed.

“That was the perfect set up. You’re supposed to say, ‘I’ll do it anyways’, or ‘too late’. Something like that.”

“Sorry.”

I was distracted. I heard something moving around against the kitchen window behind us. A mouse? No, larger than a mouse, maybe a raccoon. When I turned and looked at the window was empty.

“Miles?”

“Hmm?”

I turned. The light of the fireworks dyed Jane’s hair green, then white, then the bright cherry red of a fire truck.

“Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yeah. I thought maybe I heard an animal inside. Wait out here a second, I’ll check it out.”

“I told you, we should’ve had someone come and clean the cottage in May. This is what happens when you’re only here for three months of the year. Something else moves in.”

“Yes dear,” I joked.

I opened the screen door and it whined on its hinges. I tensed, ready to hear our scuffling guest streaking for the doorway and my unprotected bare feet, or the obnoxious clanging of a pot knocked onto the floor. I heard nothing.

“Hurry up,” Jane said in a low whisper.

“I’ll be back to deal with you in a minute,” I said, stepping into the kitchen.

I groped blindly at the wall to my left, then turned on the light switch. The kitchen was just as we’d left it. If we had a furry house guest, it had abstained from chowing down on the leftover hot dog from dinner.

I walked through the kitchen, past the TV in the back half of the open space, and down the hallway. The basement door was shut. Nothing had run down there to hide, and if the mice living down there were hungry, they had not come up into the kitchen.

“Coast is clear,” I said over my shoulder, but Jane was already in my ear.

“Good. Get in bed.”

“Yes ma’am.”

******

I woke up the next morning feeling more rested than I had since I started managing the corporate accounts at BD. I rose carefully from bed, not wanting to wake Jane, and tiptoed across the room to peer into Kurt’s crib.

He was sleeping with a stuffed teal elephant tucked under his arm. His little chest rose and fell with hypnotic regular ease, and he barely stirred when I kissed his forehead. Our parents and friends had warned us, in that half joking but no seriously we know best way that seasoned parents often employ. They love to council mothers and fathers to be. Loved to warn that we would be getting next to zero sleep once the baby came into our lives. I knew this was a rule, but Kurt was a pleasant and surprising exception. He was good for six or seven hours every night, even when fireworks were exploding like cannon fire across the lake.

I tiptoed out of the room and after cleaning up the mess from last night’s dinner, I broke four eggs into one pan and fried bacon on another. Last night’s hot dog was untouched, further proof that I had been imagining whatever it was that I thought I’d heard, and in an unpredicted bout of madness I threw it out the open window into the loose forest outside for some squirrel or other thing. Probably a dumb thing to do, feeding the animals was a surefire way to get them coming back, but I was filled to burst with sunshine and summer air.

“Breakfast,” I said when Jane wandered out of our bedroom rubbing her eyes. One of my XL hung over her waist like a dress, making me question whether she was wearing underwear. I decided to find out after breakfast.

“Morning sweetness,” she said. “How’s Kurt?”

“Kid’s a champion,” I said. “Still asleep. I don’t even think he woke up during last night's commotion, and I don’t mean the fireworks.”

Jane stopped rubbing her eyes. She frowned. For some reason, she glanced at the couch and the armchair sitting across from the flat screen, then back to me.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who fumbles at innuendos.”

“No, not that. Where’s Kurt?”

My heart dropped, but just a hair.

“He’s in his crib.”

“No he’s not,” Jane said, with a tone suggesting I cut out whatever bad joke I was making. “You brought him out here when you woke up, right?”

“No,” I said, already moving past her back into the bedroom. “Look, he’s right he– “

The crib was empty.

I dropped to my knees and looked under the crib, then spun and checked under the bed. No Kurt. I stood and walked across the room to check the closet. Jane was entering the room behind me. She stuck her hands under the flat blanket in the crib and tossed it aside, as if Kurt might have hidden underneath it.

“Kurt?” she called across the cottage. She was using her mommy voice but there was an edge to it that I didn’t like.

“He couldn’t have gone far,” I said, closing the closet. No Kurt in there either. “He was right there when I woke up.”

“How long ago was that?” Jane asked. She was back tracking my trail, opening and closing the closet for herself.

“Ten minutes? Fifteen tops.”

She left the room and I followed.

“Kurt?” she called again.

I didn’t really start to worry until we knew for sure that he wasn’t in our bedroom, the unused spare, the kitchen, or the bathroom. Jane had pulled every pot and pan out of the bottom row of kitchen cupboards and was crawling in herself to get a better look when I returned to the kitchen.

“I’m going to check outside,” I said, striding past her.

She said something about the basement, but I didn’t catch most of it. In a moment I was outside, and the closing screen door snatched her words out of the air.

I sprinted to the edge of the lake and scanned the surface. I had a horrible frantic fear that I would spot him, a white lump floating calmly across the water, and I would have to splash my way to collect his drowned corpse. The only thing worse would be having to tell Jane, having to show her.

For a second, I saw him there and my blood turned into ice. There he was, my dead son on the water. I blinked. It wasn’t Kurt at all, it was driftwood. The log I had mistaken for my dead child was two or three times as wide around as Kurt, and it’s bark was the deep brown colour of soaked wood, not the pale milk white of drowning.

Keep it together, I told myself.

After a lap around the property, calling out a name that my son could not even say himself never mind respond to, I was about as sure as I ever would be that Kurt hadn’t wandered outside.

“Any luck Jane?” I asked returning to the kitchen. I knew she hadn’t found him. She would’ve shouted for me.

Jane didn’t answer. She wasn’t in the kitchen. She wasn’t in the bedroom or the bathroom either.

“Jane?” I called out, panic rising like a cork up into my throat.

The basement. She had mentioned she was going to look for Kurt down there. I flew through the basement door, and down the cement staircase.

“Jane?”

I brushed a spider web out of my hair and watched the owner throw itself across the room to get out of my warpath.

“Kurt?”

No one answered me, but I could tell Jane was down here. A single tired lightbulb was glowing beside a mountain of old cardboard boxes leaning against the back wall. Jane hated wasting electricity. We both made six figures a year but growing up poor had branded a deep hatred for waste into her skin.

“Jane?”

I had never properly investigated the basement, even when the cottage belonged to my parents, when my brothers and I had the time and energy to explore. It was dark and dusty down here and spider webs clung to every wall. The basement was for storage; not a fun place to be when the shining lake and boundless woods beckoned outside.

I approached the ominous mountain of cardboard. Normally the summit was buried beneath a snowy layer of dust, but there were footprints on the top of a few boxes. Jane had climbed over the pile. Looking closely, I observed that she had pushed boxes aside to clear a path to the back wall.

I followed her prints. The tops of the old cardboard gave a little under my weight, but they held. When I reached the back wall, I looked down. A passage had been hiding behind these boxes for god knew how long, but Jane had spotted it in the search for her infant son. The hole in the floor opened to a black staircase, leading to a level below the basement.

I wondered what had possessed her to go into the foreboding darkened hall, when I spotted it. Kurt’s teal elephant, shrouded in dust and shadows, lay comatose at the bottom of the steps.

“Jane?” I shouted. There was no answer. “Hold up a second Jane, I’m coming.”

I ran back to the kitchen to grab a flashlight, and when I returned I took the black steps two at a time. The beam of my flashlight and the barest hint of Jane’s shoes in the dust led the way. I left the elephant to watch my back.

There were even more spider webs on this level. They hung off the old dark stone in sticky curtains, the bold shadows cast by my light reminded me of tennis rackets. A few of the webs lay broken along the trail. Jane must have torn them loose on her way.

There were spiders hanging in the middle of some of the webs. They had fat brown and orange bodies about as large as quarters, and they scurried into cracks in the stone walls when I pointed aimed the light at them. I wondered what the spiders could possibly be catching and eating down here.

The path hooked right. I was beyond the walls of the house now, and I judged the path was carrying me under the lake. I started thinking that maybe I had made a mistake. My family wasn’t down here. What I had mistaken for foot prints had been nothing more than a trick of the light. Kurt had tossed the elephant down the mysterious black staircase, but of course he hadn’t come this far in the dark by himself. Jane was probably in the kitchen right now with Kurt in her arms, wondering where I had gotten off to. I was just about to turn back when my flashlight landed on Kurt’s sock.

I bent and peeled the sock off the black stone floor. It was light blue with white spaceships soaring across the yarn, hand knitted by Jane’s mother.

“Jane!” I shouted. “Kurt!”

Something moved up ahead. Jane’s shoe scuffing against stone. I wanted to run down the path towards the sound, but it was hard to find courage in the bowels of the earth, so I walked.

I was forced to stop when I came to a wall of spider webs. There was a host in each of them the size of a dollar. They scurried away when the beam of the flashlight burned their blind eyes, and I realized that the path was not blocked by the webbing after all. I was staring at another wall. It was a dead end.

I nearly turned back again, but my flashlight happened to drop, revealing a battered old trap door with a cast iron handle. It looked like the sort of thing that would prove to be heavier than first guess.

The trapdoor was shut, but it was clear that Jane had been through it. There was a single ginger hair caught on the nearest corner. It was catching the beam and flickering it back at me, ushering me down. I pulled the hair and twisted it between my fingers. The length and colour were a perfect match. Definitely one of Jane’s.

The trapdoor opened with a screech that could wake the dead. It was heavy, too heavy for Kurt to get through on his own, and yet Jane had passed this way. Had it been opened up when my son came this way? Had Jane picked him up and carried him farther into the darkness? I could not fathom what possible reason she could have for doing this, but it was the only plausible explanation for what I was seeing.

I peered inside, and my flashlight revealed on the top of a ladder stretching down into a void. My beam of light ran down the length of the ladder, and I saw that if I had walked blindly forward I would have fallen at least twenty feet into yet another basement level. I shuddered. It was cold down there, and a rotting odour was wafting up through the trapdoor.

The walls in the deeper level were made from cracked and moss-covered cobble, and the floor was mud. There were small pools of water scattered here and there, and some of them had clumps of grey algae floating on the surface. The lake was finding its way into the chamber somehow, turning the chasm below me into a shallow swamp.

I noticed thin white and yellow mushrooms sprouting from the walls and the mud, and I made a mental note to myself to avoid them at all costs. Spider bites were annoying but poisonous fungus could give you a serious infection.

“Jane!” I shouted down. “Jane are you down there?”

There was no answer.

“Jane? Jane can you hear me?”

When no one answered I took a deep breath and climbed down the ladder. I kept the flashlight clenched tight beneath my teeth.

There was a huge bang when the second after my shoes hit the mud. I looked up and the bottom of the trapdoor greeted me. I had leaned it up against the wall, I was sure, but someone or something had knocked it down. Kurt maybe? Had I missed him in the dark? There was a sound that reminded me of a canoe brushing against dirt and rocks when coming into shore. Someone was pushing a heavy object over the lid of the trapdoor.

Definitely not Kurt then.

“Hey!” I shouted. My cry echoed a thousand times down the grimy trail ahead of me.

“Hey hey hey hey ey ey ey ey”.

I carried on down the path, shouting for Jane. I did not want to push against the top of the trapdoor and discover I could not get out. I was worried enough as it was. I would cross that bridge when I came to it.

“Jane!” I shouted.

“Jane Jane Jane Jane ane ane ane ane ne ne,” said the walls.

My boot brushed against one of the mushrooms. I had not noticed the fungus on my first passover with the flashlight, and the beam was pointed ahead of me, not straight down. With terrible speed, the cap flopped onto my boot and stuck there. It did not come free no matter how hard I shook my foot.

“Son of a bitch!”

A tapping noise behind me answered. Something was walking through the puddles. Something big with a lot of legs.

I spun, and my beam light just kissed one spider leg as it disappeared into the darkness. The thing was as large as a housecat. I shivered. Good thing I had thought to grab the flash light.

“Jane!”

“Jane Jane Jane Jane ane ane ane ane ne ne.”

I carried on, minutes seemed to stretch on and on.

“Jane!” I called again.

“Miles?”

That was her. She was not too far ahead, her voice was quieter than a whisper and it was tough to discern my own name over the layers of echoes, but it was Jane’s voice. That was what mattered.

“Jane! Stop, I’m coming!”

I ran to her. Light burst from my hand and danced across the mud and stone walls. The trail turned sharply left, and when I was ten feet away, Jane stepped out from around the corner. Her skin was milk white. Her green eyes were clouded, and a swirling fog was reflecting on them instead of my own scared face. She looked like a ghost.

“Jane are you alright?”

“Miles,” she said. “Go back. One got me. I’m done for.”

I approached. I had to lower the flash light because she kept flinching away from the light whenever it brushed her skin.

“Jane! What are you talking about? What do you mean something got you? Where’s Kurt?”

I put my hands on her shoulders and she pushed me off, taking a step back into the blackness.

“No time Miles. No time. You have to… run. They got me. It got me.”

“What got you Jane? What go –” but I never finished asking my question.

In the same instant that I noticed the clear rope growing from the back of her head, it was yanked backward. Jane cried out as she was pulled head first into the darkness. She screamed, and it sounded like shattering glass, and then the scream was severed. It cut out all at once, like she was on the phone with me and someone had hung up on her end.

Her screaming was replaced by horrible crunching and slobbering sounds, and I brought up my flashlight, my only means of protection.

The beam flickered, the battery inside warning me to get back to safety.

A spider bigger than a grizzly bear filled the hall in front of me. I watched my wife’s waist, then legs, then the heels of her shoes disappear into its squashing mouth, pushed inside by two hairy tarantula legs. They were four feet long at least.

I screamed when the strobing flashlight found the spider’s blind glistening eyes. It scuttled backwards, but as it went, eight pinprick pupils with a lingering shred of awareness found me. They marked me, and gooseflesh burst across my skin. Then the spider was gone, hurrying through pools of stagnant water until it was out of the light.

I spun and ran as fast as I could back towards the ladder. I discovered with horror that a cluster of spiders had crowded behind me, had been creeping up soundlessly while my back was turned. Discovered, they dove out of my way and the path ahead was clear. Spiders as large as cats and small dogs hurried out of the light’s dying glare. I was reminded of the scene in the second Harry Potter movie with all of the spiders. Those ones did not look quite so mean, did not have those hateful pink eyes.

One creature as large as a great Dane stepped to the side of the path. Instead of fleeing from the light, it was content to step aside and watch me run by. I felt its horrible eyes as I rushed past. I knew it could not see me, those eyes had been burned out by the darkness a long time ago, but it knew about light, and it knew when the light was gone it would be time to feed.

Something was coming behind me, something huge. Not the great Dane spider, maybe not even the grizzly bear that had eaten Jane. The thing behind me was titanic. It was afraid of the light, but it was also ravenously hungry.

The light was dying, disappearing into nothingness and flicking back to life in the next moment. Each time it came back a little later than the stammer of power before. Eventually, the light would flicker out like a candle, and would not come back on.

The ladder was just ahead of me. I hurtled on to the first rung and climbed for my life.

My worst fear was confirmed when I pushed my flat palm against the top of the trapdoor. It budged, but only slightly. Something was on top of it weighing it down, maybe a fat spider.

I shoved again. The door opened and inch, then crashed back down. I shoved with my shoulder, stepping up another rung to put as much force as I could into the hit. I almost got the lid up, but the trapdoor clattered back down after opening maybe a foot. I lost my balance, recovered it, but the flashlight slipped out of my hands.

I grabbed for it as it fell, got a few fingers around the plastic stem, fumbled it, and watched my only lifeboat drop sink to the floor below. It seemed to spiral in slow motion, like a lighthouse tipping over. It exploded into a thousand pieces when it hit the ground, but before it did I got a glimpse of the monster following me.

It was a spider the size of an elephant. Its wrinkled skin was the same aggravated purple as a flaring bruise, and it was totally bald. I had a sense that it was older by far than the cottage above it, maybe older than the lake. The creature had been lurking nearly out of sight, not wanting to come too close to the waving flashlight while I tried to escape.

Before the flashlight burst, I saw its eyes were locked on me. It was slobbering venom and saliva. It could not wait to have me.

Through the darkness, I heard it coming tentatively forward through the puddles, perhaps wary I would produce another light. The ladder shook a bit with each step. I was out of time.

I felt one of its legs prodding the bottom of the ladder. It did not have the courage to come at me yet, but it would soon. I shoved as hard as I possibly could against the top of the trapdoor, driving it upwards with everything I had.

It clacked open at last, flinging all of the way back and staying open. The spider who had been holding it down ran back the way it had come and out of sight. I got my arms over the lip of the cavern and started to heave myself onto the higher floor.

The ladder gave way. I had managed to haul enough of myself over the edge so that I was able to hold on, and my swinging feet kicked the top of the ladder while it went down.

The old spider made a horrible titter noise, like a demon giggling. Thunder boomed from the depths as the purple monstrosity pounced on the ladder. The wood cracked in the beast’s mouth. It had been expecting to find me still attached to the ladder, would be furious when it realized it had been cheated it out of a meal. A scent of rotting fish came up through my nostrils and I knew I was smelling the spider’s innards.

I was sweating profusely. I wore a t-shirt, and my slicked-up forearms made it almost impossible to hoist myself up. I pushed straight up on my hands, like an olympic gymnast on the hanging rings. My belly button rubbed against the threshold between cold basement and the purple spider’s domain, and I leaned forward. I brought one leg up, pushed it against the back of the trapdoor, and my knees went from open air to rubbing painfully against the black stone.

Then I was on my knees. My feet were hanging over the edge of the chasm and I pulled them back quickly.

I was aching with sadness for Kurt and Jane, but the glow of relief was there too. I was alive. Broken, maybe mentally fucked up for the rest of my life, but alive.

I scrambled to my feet and ran. I made it a few steps, but something caught my shoe in midair, nearly throwing me face first into the ground. I looked down. A hauntingly familiar white rope was trailing from the bottom of my shoe, the one with the fungus still attached, all the way back to the trapdoor.

The spider on the other end of the sticky silk rope pulled once, investigating, and I was jerked backwards onto my ass. A cry of pain shot out of my throat before I could catch it and hold it back. Then I was gliding slowly back down the path, being towed like a fish on the end of a line, towards the open trapdoor.

I fumbled with my shoe, trying to pull it off, but my hand brushed the mushroom stuck there and pain seared through my hand like it had been impaled on a spear. The fungus squirmed in joy, and when I yanked my hand away, it spread like a gluey paste across my shoelaces. The chunk on my hand did not let go. The pain was transcendent. I felt the fungus melting through my shoelace, beginning to burn my foot, all while I slid towards my doom.

I tried to kick off the shoe my using my other foot to press against the heel, but that only brought on more pain. The fungus stretching from my hand down to my shoe had melded itself to my foot, so that when I pressed I felt a rocket of hot pain shoot up through my foot, all the way up to my hand. It was like a stick of boiling chewing gum, but it was binding my foot and hand together instead of my hair.

Then I was at the trapdoor. I screamed. I tried to dig in my feet, but it was no good. I felt my foot being pulled over the edge into the abyss, then my legs and then the rest of me. I was falling, howling, and in the last moments before the spider’s maw cut through my leg, and before its legs stuffed the rest of me into its belly, I heard the demonic giggling one more time. I wonder if I will see Jane and Kurt again in the afterlife, or inside of the monster’s stomach.

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