Chapter 25

I’ve had a few near-death experiences in my life. One arrived by means of the uppercut of a ridiculously skinny practice partner who turned out to be a local welterweight champion. Another was when a one-night stand called to tell me she was having twins and they were mine.

The former cost me several years of pain-filled dentist experiences and a permanent click in my jaw. The latter, just a few minutes of near-hear-attack status, until she admitted she wasn’t sure they were mine. Still, both experiences managed to distance my mind to the point where it felt like I was no longer properly inside my body.

This was the exact same. The scenario froze, leaving my consciousness detached and wondering at the situation. I felt no fury, no rage at the deviousness of the beast. Merely a sort of distanced bemusement and awe. What I’d taken for a simple beast, albeit one with an impressive ambush capability, had proved to be able to outsmart me entirely. Deja fucking vu.

Not only did the bastard have poison. It also, apparently, had the power to create a spiderweb-like substance that was surprisingly sturdy. Meaning, the shiny specks of romcom glamour drizzled everywhere around the scene weren’t actually signs that Robert Pattinson had been here. They were, in actual fact, death traps. And I’d, very effectively, I might add, allowed myself to get trapped. Now, I was staring uncomfortably down at the barrel to the ‘death’ part.

Inside the foggy parts of my mind that weren’t currently busy dealing with the pain of the poison coursing through by system and the, also surprisingly painful, countermeasure of Internal Scourge, I was absolutely panicking, even as I pulled and cursed, trying to tear the bloody strand of webbing apart.

I knelt, then applied the swordbreaker, and roared with fury as the spindly thing immediately got stuck in the sticky strands. Then I heard the shuffling sound of dozens of spindly feet closing in on me and… drew a blank. What could I do? What did the bloody millipede expect me to do? Unleash all my offensive talents?

Inside my mind, a cheery voice responded, “No, Mr. Bond. I expect you to die.”

I chuckled. Then guffawed. And finally, a tiny spark lit in my brain. The monster was still on the opposite side of the large pile of rocks, momentarily out of sight. I carefully lay down, making sure that I was angled just right, and had my shield placed on top of me, like a viking arrayed for his funeral.

The damn swordbreaker, I left dangling, trapped in the web. It could rot, for all I cared.

Lying down, poison coursing through me and trying to end my life, one leg horribly twisted, still stuck in the webbing, I managed one of the hardest things I’d ever done in my life.

I lay still and closed my eyes.

The thing moved closer. I opened one eye ever so slightly, seeing it approach through a haze. Gah. From underneath, the damn thing was even uglier than it had appeared from straight ahead. It sported a carpet of small, undulating purplish feelers, as well as its myriad of legs.

It froze just a few meters away, seeming to observe me for a brief while.

I sent a prayer to whomever might listen, hoping beyond hope that the damn thing didn’t have Identify or some life sense or whatever Ademia might offer. Then I focused and lay extra still, urging my chest to not move with my breathing.

The Milipede moved in an impressive rush. It wasted no time cutting me loose, aiming straight for the meal ticket. The horrifying vision of its moving, many-limbed underside moved into position above my downed shape. Two limbs descended, surprisingly gently, lifting my shoulders gently, softly toward the reddish hell of its mouth. The jaws descended.

With every inch of force I possessed, I slammed my shield up and in place between me and the teeth, which scrabbled and locked onto the edge of the shield. I directed every inch of power from my Wave of Reflection straight into the beast’s mouth, along with the force from my Deflect. My shield was torn from my hands, as the head violently jerked back.

A wave of corrective energy tore through my body, violently correcting, amending, healing. It slowed down and sped up in places, seemingly having trouble with the poison. I couldn’t quite follow what was happening since I was a little busy with, y’know, not dying.

For some reason, I’d expected the damn thing to be mute. That turned out to not be the case. As the Millipede jolted back up in an unnaturally fast motion, its piercing wail carved right into my brain, hurting my ears and everything in between. It rose on trembling legs, sharp limbs raised shakily above me.

Then it died. In one, long, shuddering motion, the meter-long body deflated and collapsed lifelessly to the floor. Right on top of me. Trapping me below its bulk, as one limb punctured my shoulder and came to rest.

I felt something liquid escape its body and ooze onto me, seeping into my pant legs. Yet, I couldn’t move. It was too heavy.

Fuck. My. Life.

I have my pride. Some will say that I am too prideful, especially for somebody with as spotty a record of… everything, as I have. They just don’t get the point. When you own nothing, pride is one of the rare things they can’t take from you.

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