Book One – Chapter 8

The weaver had lain in wait on the upper left wall, prepared to ensnare Midnight once she advanced past the first net, rested, or succumbed to panic. Two more of its kin had remained on this side of the nets, perfectly merged with the rock wall, while others waited within the fresh web structures. If she had retreated to the intersection, the weavers would have followed and sealed the tunnel behind her.

Midnight had not sensed it. And the arachnomorph had not anticipated that she would get on two legs and throw herself against the wall. In the moment her claws made contact, chaos erupted — The confined space became a maelstrom of violence. They tore at each other on the ground, ramming into the walls and webs, clawing, ripping, trampling, and biting, devoid of strategy, driven by primal instinct and brutal aggression. A second arachnid dropped down from the ceiling and a third jumped at her from behind the web, intensifying the battle in the darkness of the subterranean tunnel, now bursting with the feral war cries of merciless deathbringers.

In the brutal fight, Midnight, seasoned in arachnid combat, avoided biting into the acidic bodies. Amidst the whirlwind of claws and bites, she tore off the first arachnid’s head and shredded the second. By the time she had killed the third, her body had suffered brutal trampling, and she bore multiple bites. Her fur was marred with her own blood, acid, and webs. They had been formidable fighters.

Rising amid the twitching corpses, Midnight realised her predicament — she found herself confined by nets on both ends of the tunnel. Some were remnants of the fray, torn in the chaotic struggle, while others were freshly spun. More weavers lurked. She had won the battle, but the pack had won the hunt.

Wounded but defiant, Midnight twisted and turned, attempting to discern any approaching arachnids. Growling and provoking, she sought to draw them out. She took the severed arachnid head, clamping its elongated mandibles between her teeth and thrashing it wildly against the nets, tearing through the silk with ferocity fueled by rage, overriding the pain that coursed through her body.