Born a Monster-Chapter 453

453 Come Into My Parlor

As we approached the burning village...

No, I don’t know how. I’d imagine one of them cast Ignite, or that they struck flint against steel the way most people do. But whatever the barriers were to lighting the village on fire, those arachnids were determined enough to overcome them.

Anyway, as Samiel (my spider, if you recall) and I approached the burning village, we were just in time to see a pyre being built around a half-paralyzed woman.

I sent.

replied a spider decorated in black and white bands.

I told Samiel.

A brown and red spider turned enough to latch a thread of web to my arm. When she pulled, so did I. It should have yanked her right to me, rather than tearing the skin off that entire section. 𝒇𝚛e𝘦wℯ𝑏𝓃𝑜νℯ𝒍.co𝗺

“Gyagh!” I yelled, more from the sudden-ness of the pain than the volume.

Samiel chuckled at me.

.....

And he bit me.

I asked.

For sixteen minutes, the pain rendered me defenseless. I woke with all the right limbs, the correct number each of fingers and toes. Samiel and two of his sisters were watching me, nibbling on the bits that had been discarded during transformation.

I sputtered, coughed up a line of bloody phlegm.

[You have 38/80 Health remaining.] my System responded, when I asked.

Samiel said.

I coughed up a final bit of phlegm.

the brown and black sister asked.

said the black and white sister.

[Title now active.]

the brown and black sister said.

I cleared my throat.

Samiel said.

“No, no, please!” begged a man.

I said. I rolled a bit on the ground, eventually rising to my feet. I strode over to where he was webbed, spread out on the ground and attached to various ... I don’t know the word for when a house is shattered. They were the big, heavy bits, the bones of the house.

I took care not to step on any of the little ones as I approached him.

the elder sister said.

Daera snickered. In a voice neither like nor unlike Yalwyns,

Yalwyn warned me.

Where he had been bitten, the man’s flesh had blistered and blackened; his eyes were wild and coating over with a white film. But, it seemed, he could still see well enough.

“You are no kobold.” he said.

I performed a bow. “I am, in fact, not a kobold.”

“You’re him. Rhishi the Sick, master of disease.”

Master of... No, I had no such title. “My name is Rhishisikk.” I said. “Among other ...”

He spat at me. “Coward! Coward and failure. Had you joined the Heroic Five, and just killed him...” he took a break to shake and scream.

“Yes.” I said. “Our world could have been so very different.”

“I, Thomas the Brown, curse your name, Rhishi the Sick. May your fears hound you like your shadow, and may fate ever favor your enemies.” He turned his head, and spat into the face of one of the children.

To my surprise, the curse took form, a wisp of red air, which seemed to whisper as the breeze parted around it. “Drown... oh... Thank you, spirits of water, but I don’t think that curse wants me.”

“What?” Thomas said. “No, where are you GOING! He’s RIGHT THERE! Get him! Get him!”

But the curse drifted lazily on the wind, looking for Rhishi the Sick, Master of Disease. Knowing what it takes to earn that title, you have neither my pity nor empathy should that curse have found you.

Thomas broke off into sobbing for a bit, and then said, “Kill me.”

I knelt by him, again being careful not to harm any of the children. They did me no such courtesy, swarming into my clothes, biting at mail and scales with vigor far in excess of their size. “No.” I said. “I don’t owe you that kindness. I shall take my ring, though.”

It needed no magic; it fit on the finger of my left hand.

“No.” Thomas insisted. “No, you owe me for that ring. It’s worth a death, a clean quick death.”

I rose, began brushing scruffy palm-spiders out of my clothing. “Is that how you were planning to kill me, when you thought me human?”

“Oh, gods, yes.” he said. “That is the nature of our life. We have the village only until it becomes known. Then we must flee. You work for the horned demons, the overlords. We’d have killed you in an instant.”

His face purpled, and he gasped. I don’t need to imagine the sort of pain he must be in.

I asked.

There were others than the siblings, and more than one of them chittered or clacked at me.

One deigned to speak. she said.

said a male,

“What...” Thomas said. “Are you TALKING to them?”

“I am.” I said.

“Monster. You are a monster, and you talk to monsters.”

“Yes, I do.” I said. I bit back the words ‘every time I talk to a human’. Not all truths need to be spoken, and I wouldn’t be able to speak those words, anyway. There are both good and bad humans.

“Then tell the bugs to kill me.” he demanded.

I sighed, and then grabbed inside my shirt. One of the children had found a gap made earlier by Thomas’ sword. Zero damage, and thus no poison, but it hurt. I had been intending to crush him as an example to the others.

But... he was light brown and beige, with eyes of black. Tiny swirls of black made spiraling patterns on his body. I told him.

He bit at the palm of my hand.

I flicked him off in Thomas’ direction. I broadcast to them.

Oh gods. I’ll have to put that in an index or something. Not all sentient spiders are Children, and not all of the Children of Anansi grow to the size of mounts, although most do. Even then, just as not all children of Aware animals are Aware themselves, not all of the Children are full Children of Anansi.

How do the bards put it? The bloodlines of old are fading, less and less each generation. Each child is more mundane than his parents, and even their Systems seem more bland, more lacking, as the generations pass.

And a thought occurred to me.

He edged forward.

I said.

One of the children bit my heel.

DO NOT DO THIS! Spiders can bite you multiple times. Please remember that I had spent the bulk of my life developing abilities against Bleeding, Disease, and Toxic. In about the same time as it takes rating 6 venom to kill the average person, my System had torn it apart into harmless (even helpful) biochemicals. If you don’t know what those are, I probably lack the words to describe them to you.