Monsters and Maidens

Alice sat down near one of the peepholes that let her more easily see the spider monster outside. Even with the rain, it was easy to see the creature had not moved from its spot since its last attack, remaining perched on the branch and carefully observing them from within the forest. The spider creature lay on the massive branch that stuck out from the tree, maybe thirty meters or so off the ground, her body that of a car-sized black spider with a woman’s torso attached to its front. There was something about the spider-half that had Alice’s mind tying itself into knots.

She was a teacher; she’d gone through school once upon a time, and she distinctly remembered her physics class. The reason why bugs weren’t massive was because they literally couldn’t be. Exoskeletons would collapse far before they’d reach the size of a car. Something about the cube law.

But the arachnid monster wasn’t JUST massive. It had moved at incredible speed across the forest.

A forest with trees at least twice as tall and ten times as wide as any Earth had ever seen.

It was probably a waste of time to think about it right now, to mull over the thought, but the more she thought, the less sense it made. She hated the hard sciences with a passion, too many numbers, but there was an inescapable truth that physics were equally unforgiving.

What weren’t they seeing here? What allowed such a creature to exist? Water was still wet, and nothing really felt excessively heavy or light, so gravity should be the same. Was it the material the spider’s exoskeleton was made of? Or something else? Perhaps the animals here had evolved to use some unknown substances… Maybe it was like the berries they’d found? The little blue marble of a fruit she held within her fingers tingled, an electric color that almost appeared to glow in the dark.

It wasn’t worth a headache, Alice concluded. She was trying to distract herself too hard, and whatever that spider-half was made out of, it was sturdy enough to handle all that weight and movement. That means they had little hope of piercing it.

All the musings in the world over some bug’s body weren’t going to distract her. Not from the real reason she kept looking in the monster’s direction every other hour. The one thing that gripped her with an insidious fear. One that reminded her of the fate that awaited them if they weren’t able to escape or get rid of the thing.

The cocoon that hung from the branch had once resembled a human in its shape. That had been yesterday. Today it was shriveled, dried up, and deformed. Whatever had happened to the body inside, it was hard to believe there was much left of it. The part of Alice that warned her of how futile it was to watch was right next to that little voice that whispered and poked at that self-destructive curiosity within her.

To attempt to answer how long they had before the monster came for another one of them.

That was the underlying question. How long did they have? Would help come in time? At all?

Alice glanced at the other survivors. There was little sound to be made. She imagined there wasn’t much to be talked about, anyway. The foreboding sensation that loomed over them was oppressive in its own way. At least the sound of the rain made for a decent distraction if one opted to close their eyes and just listen. A drumming sound with no rhythm that drowned out all else.

But there was little room for the lie. The survivors looked to one another as if ready to step in line and towards the monster.

“I can’t stand this.” The teacher’s voice broke out to pierce the dark shadows that were cast within the bus’ remains.

Situated around her, there was May and one of the injured. She needed only to walk towards the center of the totaled vehicle to take one long withering glare at everyone present.

“We can’t give up now,” Alice said into the small crowd that remained on the floor, seated and looking downcast. “We have to find a way out of this.”

“Alice…” Victor muttered.

Evidently, the fellow teacher did not look like he wanted to stir things up. And Alice vehemently disagreed. “No, we can’t just sit here and wait. How much longer do any of you think that thing will take before it comes for more?”

It was Ms. Dodson who spoke up. “Then give the monster one of the ill,” the woman spoke from the farthest corner of the bus. Among everyone present, she was the one who had the most distance between herself and the main entrance, the purpose of her location rather clear. “It will buy us time so we can starve to death instead.”

“We will not sacrifice anyone.”

The woman sneered. “And what makes you think you have the right to decide for everyone here?” There was no missing the fire in those eyes as she stood up, walking toward Alice. “It’s not your place, you’re not the one in charge here.”

Alice leaned back, crossing her arms. “I am not deciding for everyone.”

“Liar.” The yellowed teeth flashed, an accusatory finger raising itself to point at her as if it had come out of a grave. “From the start, you’ve been pushing to have your way. When you were told we had to move out of here, you insisted we had to stay! So we did!” A sweeping hand gestured around. “Now look at us! We are going to die, eaten by a monster. All because you couldn’t stomach making the right call.”

The words struck deep.

Alice recoiled, reacting too late to hide the flinch. It was a mistake, of course, because it gave Ms. Dodson all the room she needed to step forward. The bony finger pushed and poked Alice’s shoulder with a painful jab that caught the teacher completely by surprise.

“We will die because of you,” she said, swiping her hand in front of the teacher’s face. The slap missed, but Alice had to take a step back. Ms. Dodson moved forward like a locomotive gaining momentum. “You let that blithering boy I have to call my nephew drag Barry away. Now, where are they? All because of you.”

“We don’t know-.”

Another step forward. “Do you have any proof?”

“No, but I’m sure-.”

“The only thing someone like you should be certain of is that your decisions put us in danger!” Ms. Dodson’s face was bright red. “You betrayed the trust we had in you. We listened to your words and look where that got us!”

Her words were like a spark. All around them the eyes of the survivors were focusing on the duo. Anger is an easy emotion to summon when everything else was lost. And Ms. Dodson was giving them a culprit to point their fingers at.

“I didn’t, no, I-.” Alice felt herself losing terrain and her words. Was it true? Had she pushed them all into this disaster? As she looked around for answers, she was only able to find scowls and silent glares. Daggers in the dark that pointed their sharp edges in her direction.

The older woman didn’t relent, the finger pushing against Alice’s shoulder with a sting. “It’s not your decision to make who dies and who lives. It’s ours.” She whirled around, facing the people there, she raised her hand. “All in favor of sending the unconscious ones first!?”

“You can’t!”

Alice’s cry fell on deaf ears. Her eyes could only widen in horror at what unfolded in front of her.

One by one, the hands rose into the air.

Alice’s heart sank deeper and deeper. “You’re making a mistake!” She called out to them. “You’re sending people to their death!”

Ms. Dodson spun around, and her hand this time met Alice’s cheek in full. “You sent us to ours, should have thought about that sooner.”

The attack had barely been more than a slap, and there was not much force in it. But the sting pushed through the teacher, a poisonous jab that chilled her gut and made her mind whirl straight down into a pit. She moved forward, a burst of anger making its way through. “If you’re going to send someone to their death, then at least look them in the eye when you do so.” She pushed back, moving a step forward, eyes turning away from the old woman and to those present.

“Vote for me to die, then.” She glared at each of them. “Look me in the eye and tell me to die for your sake!”

Each face she stared at hesitated, as gazes abruptly lowered, and their raised hands faltered.

“If you want to volunteer to the front of the line, then go ahead.” Ms. Dodson waved towards the spot behind Alice, the bus entrance. When had she cornered the teacher so far back? “You got us into this mess, atoning is the least you can do.”

Alice hesitated, trying to meet the eyes of the others and finding them all avoiding her entirely. Like they wanted to pretend she wasn’t even there. Or rather, that staring at her was too much of a burden.

It was the final nail.

Alice’s hands tightened into fists, as anger and frustration and despair balled into a single mass of burning hot pain inside her chest. Her stomach twisted in revolt. A withering breath and a single word left her, trembling in rage. “Fine.”

And just like that, her fate was sealed.

Without rebuke or argument, without another word, Alice turned around to the front of the bus. The others moved out of her way without so much as a word. The young psychology teacher reached the entrance and with little fanfare began pulling the chairs that blocked the door. It was easier than she thought it should have been. Their meager defenses collapsed almost on their own. A testament to how truly vulnerable they were. Alice took a single deep breath and moved to stand under the door’s frame and paused as she looked outside, cool air buffeting her face, humidity, and the sound of thunder.

The rain hadn’t really stopped, only slowed down. And in that time, as she stood next to the open bus door, Alice’s mind contemplated nothing at all.

She wanted to; she wanted to think about many things. Her boyfriend, her family, her teaching career, her students. Maybe even think about something inane that could help her keep herself in place, like how her socks were wet and her back ached, how messy her hair was, how she’d kill for a cup of coffee right about now.

There was a sense of fruitlessness to the consideration. What would it help? She was going to die, and anything she thought was going to be lost, meaningless.

So instead she just thought… nothing.

Blessed silence.

The water splashed against the dirt, leaving puddles all over the place, and the sky was dark and getting darker still. How many hours did she have left before the monster would move? The creature just… lied there, nodding off while seated on the branch. And despite its prone position, Alice could tell it was anything but vulnerable. Its blackened arachnid half had legs that ended tipped in points that made her into a creature with eight spears for legs. Its mass alone would crush anyone, and the speed with which it had shown it can move was nothing short of impossible. The chitin likely impenetrable by any improvised weapon they might wield.

The noise of thought came back to her, unable to be contained for long.

A monster- an Arachnae as one of the students had called it. Tomas? Right, Tomas, the young man that had left with Rick and the cat and two others.

Was Rick ok? Had he really died to the forest? Had he managed to call for help? Alice shook her head; there was little sense in dwelling on that. At this point it was clear the chances weren’t in her favor. And it wouldn’t change what would happen to her. But at least, she hoped, her act would change what happened to those that remained.

She reached into her pocket; there was something soft and rubbery inside. Alice glanced at them, the berries that she’d been holding onto and forgotten all about. They were electric blue and looked very much like something she shouldn’t eat. The skin tingled against her palm and it made her wonder whether eating them would save her from pain or make it worse.

If the spider monster opted to kill her quickly, then it wouldn’t make a difference. But if she didn’t…

Alice’s eyes moved back to the spider as it napped.

The hollowed out cocoon hung from the branch. It had once held someone in it, but now it was impossible for there to be much anything left inside. It appeared like the worst way to go out, trapped and…

“You don’t have to do this.”

It was Victor, his hand pressing against her back. She turned to stare at him over her shoulder. “If someone’s going to die to protect the others, at least it should be by their own choice.” With a scoff, Alice shrugged his hand off of her. “Not because they happen to be convenient.”

She noted grimly that the man did not answer her words, looking anywhere but at her. There was shame in those eyes, hesitation, and fear. “It’s wrong.”

Alice couldn’t stand it anymore. She knew her own determination would falter the moment she thought too much over it. With a grunt she stepped outside before she could think twice about it.

The first thing to happen was that she got wet. The rain and the puddles left her soaked within seconds. It weighed down on her, cold, seeping through her clothes and into her bones, a chill that made her shudder.

“Alice!”

Victor called out to her, but she ignored it, taking three more steps away from the bus.

No one dared to follow, and that was just fine for her.

With the water all around her, and the sound of the storm dwelling up above, Alice turned to look at the sky. Lightning flashed in the sky, and for a perfect moment in time the world was nothing but rain. Goosebumps traversed through her skin; it was starting to get a little cold, but she didn’t mind. This moment was all she had. She’d enjoy it however long it lasted.

A shadow moved across the clouds.

“Alice!”

The teacher lowered her gaze from the heavens and to the monster that awaited below.

The spider had awakened.

The wait was over.