Mistrunner 2 - Chapter 55 - Arachnophobia (Patreon)

Finally, I know the truth. At first, I couldn’t believe it. How did she survive so long? Why didn’t she come back? All Jeremiah ever did was torture her. She should have thanked me. Instead, she chose to set herself up as my enemy.

Nora Lancaster

I swept my arm, pushing Patrick behind me as I took aim at the abomination skittering down the corridor in my direction. It was a spider, but unlike any I had ever seen before. For one, it was at least as big as a person, though it was hard to be sure because the legs made it seem much larger than it really was. For another, it seemed to have been constructed almost entirely of silvery metal, with the most notable exception being its head, which was entirely organic and just as horrible as the giant spider label would suggest.

But by far the most horrifying aspect of the arachnid’s appearance was the bulbous abdomen in the back. Completely transparent, save for a frame of the same gleaming metal so prevalent in the rest of its body, the abdomen’s primary purpose seemed to be to show off the giant brain floating in the green-tinted liquid within.

Which had all sorts of disturbing implications.

Was it just a spider with an extra, abnormally large brain? Was it some creation of a mad scientist? A fusion of a sentient creature and a heavily modified giant spider? I had no idea, and I wasn’t eager to find out.

All those – and a hundred other – thoughts rampaged through my mind for only a second before I ruthlessly shoved them aside and focused on survival. After all, my experience with Rifts told me that the monster bearing down on us wasn’t interested in a peaceful exchange of ideas. No – as far as I knew, the monsters in Rifts were universally aggressive. And this spider didn’t seem keen on bucking that trend, given the way it had screeched and charged upon seeing us.

I opened fire.

From behind me, so did Patrick.

The spider skittered to the left, avoiding the initial salvo. My rounds hit the floor, caroming towards the ceiling, where the plasma melted through to the next level. But by then, the monster had closed on us, and I felt something wrap around my stomach and drag me in its direction.

Panicked – after all, I’d seen nothing to explain what was happening – I continued to fire on the spider. But I was off-balance, and the monster was more than capable of dodging. The result was that my shots went wide as it yanked me towards its clacking mandibles, which looked more like they belonged on a giant beetle than a spider. And given that they were serrated, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that they were intended to tear the spider’s prey into more manageable pieces.

Even as I flew through the air, I made a split-second decision, dismissing my R-14 and drawing my nano-bladed sword. Just before I came into range of the spider’s horrifying jaws, I lowered the sword like a lance.

The monster tried to react, and I felt the pressure around my waist dissipate. But it could do nothing about my momentum, and I crashed into the monster, blade-first. My sword slid into that organic head with frightening ease, all the way up to the hilt. As we collided, the creature went wild, bucking and stabbing at me with its metallic legs. The subdermal sheath, which, courtesy of three Mist boosters, had repaired itself over the past few days, held up.

But despite having two feet of nano-blade buried in its head, the creature didn’t die. As I was thrown to the side, I maintained my grip, wrenching the nano-bladed sword free in a shower of black ichor. The spider’s blood-curdling screech echoed off the walls as I skidded across the floor. Activating Balance, I turned my clumsy tumble into a roll and came to my feet a few feet later.

I didn’t stop, though. Instead, I drew Ferdinand II from the holster at my hip and, one-handed, fired. The spider was still stunned from the hole I’d left in its head, so its attempt at a dodge was more like a drunken stumble. My aim was true, and Ferdinand II’s issue found a home in its thorax. It did little good, though, bouncing off without leaving so much as a scuff mark.

I was about to exchange Ferdinand II for my assault rifle when the monster erupted into vibration so violent that it took the form of a high-pitched buzz that assaulted my ears. A second later, something hit me in the chest. A moment after that, something else punched me in the ribs with the force of a battering ram. Then, yet another unseen pillar of force sent me flying through the air until I collided with the ceiling.

Over the next few seconds, I endured a half-dozen more blows. All I could do was protect my most vital asset by curling up and wrapping my arms around my head. My body was durable, and I could endure quite a bit of punishment. However, if something started rattling my brain, I’d be done for.

In something of a panic, I activated Misthack while in mid-air. I shouldn’t have been surprised when the option to hack into whatever passed for the monster’s interface flashed on my HUD. I thudded into the wall before I could confirm the infiltration. My head crashed against the metallic surface, and for a second, I was stunned.

That was all the spider needed.

It rushed forward on its spindly legs, and in that moment, I felt some indefinable pressure clamp down on me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t really think. I could barely even breathe. But the spider was unaffected.

It loomed over me, rearing up for a strike I knew would be fatal.

And then a series of shots rang through the corridor. The sound of metal on metal filled the air, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Patrick standing in a classic shooting stance – feet shoulder width apart and both hands on the black-and-gold pistol he’d gotten from Gala – as he repeatedly squeezed the trigger.

When Gala had sold it to us, I’d known that the Tergan Tactical Energy Pistol was a powerful weapon. After what it’d cost, it should have been. And the fact that it required a specific certification supported that assessment. I also knew that Patrick had a skill that modified the damage he could do with pistols. And he’d been practicing, too, so it was probably reasonably advanced.

Still, I’d underestimated him because he rarely fought.

That had been a mistake.

The sheer kinetic force of the rounds sent the monster stumbling away. As surprising as it was, it didn’t really do much damage. But that brief stumble gave me the opportunity to confirm my Misthack and dive into the creature’s Mistwall. Fortunately, it wasn’t difficult to bypass; I’d encountered more robust defenses back in Nova City, and after spending the last few days repeatedly hacking into that aural sensor, getting through the spider’s Mistwallwas practically a breeze.

However, I got a bit of a shock when I burst through only to see that there was a distinct lack of options. In fact, there was only one: Overcharge. Annoyed, I selected it before the spider could regain its balance.

The moment I felt the Mist agitate at my command, the creature locked up and let out an unholy screech that echoed through the whole corridor. I ignored it, yelling, “Aim for the brain!”

Even as I shouted the order, I summoned my Pulsar, and trusting the Misthack to keep it busy for a few seconds, used Empowered Shot. By the time the requisite charging period had passed, the spider had begun to recover, but it wasn’t enough.

I squeezed the trigger.

The Pulsar roared.

And less than an instant later, the monster’s abdomen exploded in a ball of liquid hot plasma. The force of the shot threw the creature against the wall, denting the decayed metal surface. But when the smoke cleared, I saw that the glass abdomen only bore a slight crack. The green-tinted liquid inside boiled, and the monster twitched in obvious pain, but that single shot, powerful though it was, wasn’t nearly enough to put it out of commission.

So, I fired again, this time without the benefit of my ability. I knew it wouldn’t do that much good; I could only hope that the crack would provide a point of weakness I could exploit.

But before I could find out, my shot was joined by Patrick’s. Neither of us stopped. He fired two shots for each one I could coax from the Pulsar – its slower fire rate on obvious display – but the rifle’s rounds were clearly more powerful. Either way, we filled the corridor with the sound of a veritable cascade of gunfire.

Still, by the time I’d emptied my magazine, the monster was still alive. Barely.

I pushed myself to my feet and repeated my Misthack, stunning it with Overcharge once again. And again. I kept it locked up as I calmly took in the state of the creature. Its abdomen bore huge cracks which leaked green liquid that had already puddled on the floor, and its legs twitched out of control.

Clearly, it wasn’t long for the world.

But still, I wasn’t going to take any chances. So, once I had replaced the spent magazine with a fresh one, I calmly took aim, used Empowered Shot, and squeezed the trigger. It was more than the abdomen could bear, and it shattered into a million pieces. A hissing sound greeted my ears as the superheated plasma round boiled and evaporated a good portion of the green liquid. But even that didn’t finish the spider off.

So, I did it again; this time, my shot was accompanied by Patrick’s.

The brain exploded in a shower of gore and what was left of the green-tinted water.

Finally, the spider collapsed under its own weight, and I let out a sigh of relief. I didn’t relax, though. Where there was one, there might be others, and I refused to be taken by surprise again.

“I think it was telekinetic,” Patrick muttered, his voice quivering from adrenaline and fear.

“You think?”

He shrugged, and replied, “I mean, it’s the only thing that really makes sense, right? And with that big brain…”

I wanted to disagree, but all the evidence pointed in the direction he suggested. In fact, I was a little embarrassed that I hadn’t come to the same conclusion earlier. I was busy being pummeled by an unseen force, so I guess I had an excuse, but it still irked me a little. I’d have to pay better attention from now on.

“And this is what you want to do…for fun and relaxation?” he asked, obviously referring to my tentative plans for the future. At the time I’d given them voice, I hadn’t really given it much thought, but in the interim, I’d made up for it with plenty of contemplation. And what I’d found was that there was a certain appeal to spending my days challenging Rifts. Obviously, that wouldn’t be my entire life – nobody could keep up that pace – but I could easily see that becoming my focus.

“I don’t know if I’d put it like that,” I said, kneeling next to the spider’s corpse. In death, it seemed a bit smaller than it had in life – likely because the legs had curled under it – but I was still horrified by its size. As I began my inspection, I continued, “It’d be more like a job. Or a purpose. I don’t know. I just can’t imagine myself settling down and…I don’t know…gardening for the rest of my life.”

He took a knee beside me, and as he started his own inspection, he asked, “What about kids? A family?”

“Maybe,” I said, shrugging. I’d never given that much thought. I certainly wasn’t celibate or anything, so I suppose pregnancy was always a possibility. But there were plenty of ways to prevent that sort of thing. And besides, the whole idea terrified me in a way a giant spider never could. Not only was the notion of growing another life inside my body difficult for me to wrap my brain around, but the idea of raising an actual child was even more horrifying. I could barely take care of myself, much less another human being, and I had no interest in that kind of responsibility. “I don’t know. That’s a question for another day, though.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right,” he admitted. “So, is this is what it’s always like?”

“How should I know?” I replied. “I’ve only been inside one other Rift, and it was nothing like this.”

“How so?”

“Well, it was more like a series of rooms,” I said. “Each one was more difficult than the last. And the connecting corridors each had…restrictions.”

“Like what?”

I told him about the hall filled with the falling motes of light that, when they had touched me, sent agonizing pain throughout my body. Or the one filled with gelatinous ooze that tried to melt my feet off.

“That’s…horrifying…”

I shrugged. “I made it through okay,” I said. “I ended up having to spend weeks healing, though. Hopefully, this one will be easier.”

“Pretty sure it’s going to be the opposite,” he said.

“Why do you say that?” I asked. Sure, it was different, but that spider hadn’t been that much more difficult than those furry tentacle monsters. But then again, my own power had grown considerably since that first Rift, which might have skewed my perception a little.

He shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “I didn’t go through the last one, so I can’t say for sure. But what we saw…with that planet and everything…it suggests that this is…I don’t know…”

I understood the sentiment. It was easy to think of that giant, planet-sized creature as mere window dressing, but even from hundreds of miles away – or more; perception of distance was difficult in space – the thing’s power had almost overwhelmed me. It was probably worse for Patrick, too. But what inclined me to agree with his assessment was largely unrelated to that.

“It does seem a lot more elaborate,” I stated. “That might mean it’s a higher level of difficulty. Maybe it had more Mist to work with or something.”

Not for the first time, I wished there was more information on Rifts. My uncle had explained the basics, but he’d clearly held quite a lot of information back, probably intending to educate me at a later date. He’d never had a chance, though, which left me dangerously ignorant.

But I refused to believe that those octavangians could successfully mine the Rift if I couldn’t. Of course, they’d probably taken the time to scout it out, and there was no telling what kinds of specialized equipment they’d possessed. For all I knew, they had an easy way of dealing with monsters like the spider we’d just brute-forced.

I sighed.

“What?” he asked.

I shook my head. “It’s nothing,” I answered. “Sometimes, I just feel like I’m fighting an uphill battle, you know? Things would be so much easier if I wasn’t just blindly feeling my way through all of this.”

I didn’t think there was an easy solution, though. For whatever reason, people guarded any valuable information extremely jealously, which meant that I wasn’t going to solve my ignorance with mere research. Instead, I had little choice but to do so via experience, which was incredibly dangerous.

But that was kind of the point, wasn’t it? I wasn’t so blind to my own personality that I couldn’t see that the danger was what made overcoming a Rift so satisfying. If it was easy, like many of my operations in Nova City had been, I wouldn’t have found it so psychologically rewarding.

Besides, that very danger was what made the Rift shards so valuable.

Speaking of which, I said, “Keep your eyes peeled, okay? In the last Rift, every time I overcame an obstacle, I was rewarded with a bunch of shards.”

Patrick nodded, and after we continued our inspection of the dead spider – which yielded no new information – we continued along. We didn’t get far before we were confronted with a series of cocoons made of metallic webs.

“Wish I had a flamethrower,” I muttered to myself as I picked my way through. I didn’t need to unravel the cocoons to guess what they contained. Basic knowledge of spiders and the vaguely humanoid shapes on display were enough to make that abundantly clear. After all, Earth’s spiders had a habit of wrapping their still-living prey in webs and saving them for a later meal. I had no reason to suspect the weird alien spider had different habits.

Or rather, I had no interest in inspecting it further. The things creeped me out, and I just wanted to find the shards, complete the Rift, and be on my way. Even the furry tentacle monsters from my first Rift couldn’t really compare to how unsettling the spider had been.

Slowly, we continued along, keeping an eye out for stray webs. We needn’t have bothered, because over the next few hundred yards, we encountered nothing. Then, finally, there was an open door. And inside was a huge crate. I didn’t need to open it to know what was inside; my Mist sense told me enough that I could guess that the crate held a cache of Rift shards.

The only problem was that it was draped in metallic webs and absolutely covered in fist-sized spiders that looked like miniature versions of the creature we had just killed.

“Definitely wish I had a flamethrower,” I whispered.

We were more than twenty feet away, and my voice had been barely loud enough for Patrick to hear. But even that was enough to alert the little monsters.

“Uh…Mira…”

A shiver ran up my spine as the creatures flowed toward us in a wave of clicking, metallic legs, collective hissing, and clacking mandibles. I did my best to ignore it as I readied myself to greet them.