Shadowhunter in the Apocalypse

The cave was quiet again, except for the sound of his own breathing. Ragged, uneven. He stood surrounded by corpses, the air so heavy with rot and ichor it stuck to his throat every time he tried to swallow.

He stared at the dozen he'd managed to separate. Webbing stripped away, pale faces slack in their unnatural sleep. Their chests rose and fell, barely. That was all that kept him steady.

His gaze lingered on the red hair. Ava. Web. The girl that had dragged him into this in the first place, though he couldn't even blame her. If not for the faint pulse under her skin, he would've thought she was already gone.

The rest weren't so lucky. Hundreds of them hung above, but when he'd cut them free, they dropped like sacks of stone, hearts already still.

Reed leaned against the wall, shadows flickering weakly at his hand before they guttered out. He wasn't sure how much longer his body was going to hold up.

He dragged in another breath, coughed hard, spat blood onto the stone. "Shit…" He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "What now…"

That's when he heard it.

Soft. Too soft. The sound of bare feet against the stone floor.

Reed straightened instantly, shadows crawling down his arm until a blade formed again, jagged and trembling like it was struggling to stay alive. His head turned toward the far end of the cave.

She walked in like she owned the place.

A woman. Tall, curves like something out of a fever dream, skin too perfect for someone standing in this pit. Nude, but she didn't move like she even noticed. No shame, no hesitation. Just… walking.

Her stride was strange, though. At first. Like someone new to their legs, like a drunk balancing on ice. But the longer he watched, the smoother it got, until she stopped wobbling entirely. She carried herself like she had been doing it for years.

Her eyes swept the floor, landed on the corpses. For a second, she just stared. Then her lips parted, trembling, and the sound that came out was low and grief-stricken.

"…my children."

Reed's grip tightened on the blade. His chest felt cold.

He knew that voice. Not the sound, but the weight in it. He'd heard it before in reports, rumors, stories told in whispers by hunters who'd lost entire squads.

A Spirit Beast.

One that had reached transformation.

Reed forced his body upright, even though his legs shook. Shadow flared again, weak and unstable. Didn't matter. He wasn't about to die sitting down.

The woman's head tilted toward him finally, like she'd only just realized he was there. Her eyes locked on him, and she stopped walking.

Her voice came quiet, curious. "Why does a Spirit Beast enter my territory wearing skin?"

Reed froze.

What?

His mind scrambled, but his body gave him away — the small flinch, the flash of confusion across his face.

Her gaze sharpened. For a moment, it looked like she was trying to figure him out. Then her lips curved slightly.

"…you don't even know, do you?"

Reed's jaw tightened. He didn't say a word.

The woman shrugged lightly, though her eyes never left his. "Ignorance doesn't erase blood. It's in you. Strong, but hidden. Strange."

"I don't care what you think you see," Reed muttered, sword rising into position. "Your spiders slaughtered people. They deserved everything they got."

Her expression shifted. Not anger. Something colder. Like she was staring at a child who didn't understand the world yet.

"They weren't slaughtering. They were collecting."

"Collecting? That what you call this?" Reed's voice cracked as he gestured around at the piles of corpses, the hanging husks.

"They were feeding me," she said simply, as if it explained everything. "Helping me understand. Helping me learn."

Reed's stomach turned. "Learn what?"

"How to be whole." She took a step forward, bare feet leaving no sound now. "Do you think this form is simple? You think I can just wear a body like clothes? To hold it, to perfect it, I must feed. I must consume. Every breath, every dream, every memory taken makes me stronger. More complete."

Her hand slid slowly across her collarbone, almost like she was admiring her skin. "One day, I will walk your cities, and no one will know. Perfect. Seamless. Mine."

Reed's grip on his blade shook, but not from weakness this time. "That's not strength. That's murder. That's you butchering people so you can play dress-up."

Her eyes narrowed, finally flashing with anger. "You dare insult me while you still reek of my kin?"

He blinked. "…What?"

She smirked faintly. "I smell it. Spirit Beast blood. Old. Ancient. I don't recognize the lineage, but it's there. Stronger than most." She tilted her head. "And yet, you stumble like prey."

"Stop talking like you know me," Reed snapped. "You don't."

"Maybe not," she said softly, "but I know what you are."

Reed's chest tightened. He didn't answer. He couldn't.

The silence hung heavy until she tilted her head back toward the corpses. "Either way, you killed my children. And blood must answer blood."

The air cracked.

Reed didn't even see her move — just felt a crushing impact in his gut. Pain exploded white-hot, his feet left the ground, and then he slammed into the cave wall hard enough to shake dust loose from the ceiling.

He coughed blood instantly, knees almost buckling, vision spinning.

The woman stood where he'd been a second ago, eyes still calm. "Pathetic."

Reed gritted his teeth, forcing himself up. His blade reformed shakily. He pointed it at her, shadows sparking faint and weak. "I'm not—done—yet."

She tilted her head, lips curving into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Good. It will be boring if you break too quickly."

She blurred again.

This time, Reed was ready enough to swing, shadows slicing across the air. But she was faster — already behind him. Her hand cracked across his jaw, snapping his head sideways, and he hit the ground rolling.

Pain screamed through his skull. He spat another mouthful of blood, forcing himself to push up again. His shadow flickered uselessly around his arm.

Every instinct in his body screamed at him to stop, to stay down. But Reed pushed to his feet again anyway, blade raised.

The Nightmare Spider's eyes glowed faintly in the dark. "Fight me, little beast," she said softly. "Show me what your blood is worth."

And she came at him again.

"How to be whole." She took a step forward, bare feet leaving no sound now. "Do you think this form is simple? You think I can just wear a body like clothes? To hold it, to perfect it, I must feed. I must consume. Every breath, every dream, every memory taken makes me stronger. More complete."

Her hand slid slowly across her collarbone, almost like she was admiring her skin. "One day, I will walk your cities, and no one will know. Perfect. Seamless. Mine."

Reed's grip on his blade shook, but not from weakness this time. "That's not strength. That's murder. That's you butchering people so you can play dress-up."

Her eyes narrowed, finally flashing with anger. "You dare insult me while you still reek of my kin?"

He blinked. "…What?"

She smirked faintly. "I smell it. Spirit Beast blood. Old. Ancient. I don't recognize the lineage, but it's there. Stronger than most." She tilted her head. "And yet, you stumble like prey."

"Stop talking like you know me," Reed snapped. "You don't."

"Maybe not," she said softly, "but I know what you are."

Reed's chest tightened. He didn't answer. He couldn't.

The silence hung heavy until she tilted her head back toward the corpses. "Either way, you killed my children. And blood must answer blood."

The air cracked.

Reed didn't even see her move — just felt a crushing impact in his gut. Pain exploded white-hot, his feet left the ground, and then he slammed into the cave wall hard enough to shake dust loose from the ceiling.

He coughed blood instantly, knees almost buckling, vision spinning.

The woman stood where he'd been a second ago, eyes still calm. "Pathetic."

Reed gritted his teeth, forcing himself up. His blade reformed shakily. He pointed it at her, shadows sparking faint and weak. "I'm not—done—yet."

She tilted her head, lips curving into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Good. It will be boring if you break too quickly."

She blurred again.

This time, Reed was ready enough to swing, shadows slicing across the air. But she was faster — already behind him. Her hand cracked across his jaw, snapping his head sideways, and he hit the ground rolling.

Pain screamed through his skull. He spat another mouthful of blood, forcing himself to push up again. His shadow flickered uselessly around his arm.

Every instinct in his body screamed at him to stop, to stay down. But Reed pushed to his feet again anyway, blade raised.

The Nightmare Spider's eyes glowed faintly in the dark. "Fight me, little beast," she said softly. "Show me what your blood is worth."

And she came at him again.