A glowing ball of electricity crackled on the end.
Normally, Arachne would ignore such a pathetic threat. The nuns’ lightning was far worse and she had been hit by that without much trouble.
Arachne dove out of the way, rolling on the floor before jumping to her feet. Her limbs whirled around her to keep the ghosts at bay.
The lightning thundered past a split second too late.
If her limbs started spasming, it could provide opportunities for the ghosts.
Arachne wasted no time in planning her next move. The wall of ghosts still surrounded Sawyer.
They weren’t around the little girl.
Moving, Arachne gripped her arm and yanked her back.
A light snap came from the girl’s shoulder as Arachne flung her through the wall of ghosts. Whatever had been holding the arm to the rest of her body had broken. Arachne found herself the proud owner of a freshly unstitched arm.
Not what she had intended. Still, it was the perfect thing to swing around without risking any possession.
Following in the wake of the girl, Arachne charged in. She batted away ghosts with the girl’s arm while bobbing and dodging the various air-based attacks Sawyer sent her way.
His smile slipped. It didn’t quite make it to a frown or even a neutral expression, but it definitely lost some of its wideness.
Arachne’s own grin appeared on her face, mirroring his former smile. If there was any contest in their grins, she was beyond certain that her best would beat his. Her teeth were just too perfect.
She clamped down on his ring hand. Her sharp claws shredded the meat and bone. With a tug, the whole hand tore apart.
The ghosts did not stop. Rather, they increased tenfold. They shook and jittered as they lurched towards her.
Taking the scrap of flesh from Sawyer with her in one hand and the girl’s arm in the other, Arachne used her mighty legs to catapult herself to the edge of the elevator landing.
Arachne lowered the makeshift club, assessing the situation. The limbs on her back kept in constant motion to protect from any unseen ghosts from behind.
There were too many. Just too many. Arachne found herself wishing that she had dragged some backup up the elevator shaft. They would have just gotten possessed, but tossing their possessed body at Sawyer might have disrupted the ghosts long enough for her to dive in and tear out the man’s throat.
For a moment, she actually entertained the idea of taking a step backwards and falling thirteen stories to the ground. She had seen the demon-golems and had no desire to become one–even if her actual consciousness was off in the Void.
But she couldn’t do that. Nel was the thing that would save Eva. If she backed off, Sawyer would collect Nel and undoubtedly escape before anyone could catch up to him.
No. She had to hold out long enough for the others to put the pressure on Sawyer. To force him to flee without reclaiming Nel.
Arachne gripped the detached arm in her hand. A thin strand of thread wove itself around the arm’s wrist. Her thread. Thin as it was, Arachne was beyond confident in its durability.
With a swing of her own arm, the arm flew through the air. The strand of her own webbing slid through a gap between her fingers. Her thread would be too thin to disrupt any ghosts it passed through.
The arm, however, was not. It punched through the face of one of the ghosts, scattering it into a puff of mist.
Swinging her arm around sent the arm at the end of the thread moving in a quick arc, scattering another set of ghosts.
Arachne charged forward. Her own arm dispersed a ghost on her way as she yanked the arm back to her.
She was forced into something of a dance as the ghosts circled around her. Her makeshift club swung around on its rope, darting this way and that. She interposed her own body between the thread, catching the it on the tips of her limbs to alter the arm’s direction and to keep its momentum moving.
The flurry with which it moved kept the ghosts at bay. The few that did slip past were so infrequent that it was barely a concern to swipe at them with one of her legs.
A lightning bolt crackled past her. Not dodged out of any real intention, it simply missed because of her erratic motions.
All the while, she continued her slow yet inexorable march forwards.
Until Sawyer changed tactics.
A cold tingle spread out through the bottom of her feet.
Arachne jumped off the floor just in time to watch a pale form float up through the tiles. She landed heavily a few feet forward, cracking tiles.
Thanks to her sudden movement, the arm smacked her across the face.
Growling, she tossed the arm again, setting it in motion.
More started to rise through the floor while others descended from the ceiling.
This had to end, and soon. She could feel ever more chills at her back as her limbs lashed out to strike at them.
Lightning crackled across her chest. As expected, it was more like a tickle than any real pain. The distraction was enough to cause the chills to gain a stronger hold.
Arachne tossed the arm straight forward, running behind it. She dropped the thread attached to the arm and stretched–stretched her arms to their limits in order to reach Sawyer that much sooner. Her body went almost horizontal, kept up by her extra legs marching forward, in her attempts to glean a slight extension.
She stretched her fingers to their limit.
The tip of her pointed black finger snapped the necklace from Sawyer’s neck, cracking the gem in the center.
That did the trick. The eyes of the ghosts gained awareness for a split second before all of them turned to fog. Even the little girl was getting to her feet after vomiting out a pale mist.
Arachne knocked the spine-focus out of his other hand as she pulled herself back to her full height. Her maniacal grin widened to touch both sides of her head as she locked eyes with Sawyer.
“I win.”
And she stared. Her eight eyes bathed his face in a faint red glow. The pathetic meat sack would cower before her.
For a moment, Sawyer almost looked like he was going to frown.
The moment didn’t last. A defiant grin spread across his face.
Arachne spun just in time to receive a knife in her stomach. It sunk in right through where her leg had carved a hole earlier.
The little girl stepped backwards, leaving the knife where it was.
Unsheathing the knife from her belly, Arachne took a step forward to return it to its owner.
She faltered. A chill ran through her carapace.
“I’ve been experimenting on demons lately,” Sawyer said.
Arachne tried to reach out, but her arm just wouldn’t move. She tipped forward and hit the ground like a statue toppled over.
“I don’t expect that to hold you for long, but it will be a decent test anyway. Des, we are leaving.”
There was a bit of motion in her peripheral vision as the little girl bent down to pick up her arm.
“Unfortunately, we have been prevented once again from testing out our little toys to their full potential. But I must take care of my hand before I bleed out. Farewell for now, Arachne. I’ll be practicing my ghost control for next time.”
With that said, two sets of footsteps petered off towards the elevator.
All the while, Arachne was thrashing about within her own skin, trying to get herself moving.
As her carapace started to unfreeze, Arachne managed to tilt her head just enough to look back at where Sawyer had been.
If she had the capability to laugh, the deranged bout of laughter she would have erupted into would have landed her in Bedlam.
Now, all she had to do was find Nel alive. For her Eva and for her Eva’s revenge.
Clenched in her off-hand, Sawyer had left behind his fingers and his ring.
Chapter 013
Genoa started off with the easy ones. The slow, the sluggish, the immobile. None of them had the ability to move out of the way.
Most of the golems had the same weakness. While the sewn on demon bits had strength and durability, their human parts were just as weak as any other human.