by Brant Danay
The powder was only effective upon arachnids, and was deadly to anything else. For Spidratha, it was an enlightening psychedelic which she ingested before every battle. With one gulp, she devoured the pulpish, drugged remnants of the tarantula, now pliant as mushrooms in her mouth. The drugs went to work instantaneously. Spidratha was ready for genocide.
*
The Constrictress had caught two of the first winged spider scouts in her long arms and was sadistically squeezing the life from their bodies, their blood dripping into the cold void of space while she laughed. She called to members of her fleet to report back to Serpentikal, then released the pulped arachnid corpses and flew off upon her winged serpent. Soon after, she had two more of the flying tarantulas in her grasp, their wings beating frantically as she crushed them with her rippling serpent muscles. Others of the serpent fleet had engaged the flying spiders as well, and the sights and sounds of battle soon filled the cosmos of the Tyterviax system.
Winged tarantulas were being struck by cobra warriors, bitten by rattlesnake gladiators, and crushed by anaconda warlords. Serpents, likewise, were being strangled and hung by nooses of spiderweb, bitten by venomous fangs which paralyzed them or wracked them with intense burning agony, and spun in cocoons of cobwebs that incapacitated them and left them vulnerable to murder.
The spiderwebbed spaceship was descending into sight, even as Serpentikal loomed into view on a perpendicular path of destruction. Crossbows and cannons were fired, sending suicide serpents into the hive, where they impaled spiders with their very bodies, or latched onto them with their fangs as they collided, releasing their deadly venom. Others exploded upon contact, tearing rifts in the gossamer spun hull of the Spidropolis and blowing huge holes in the webbed hive. Spidratha shot from an opening at the top of the hive to float into battle. Empowered by spiderdust, she had the psychic capabilities of flight within the vacuum of outer space. She shot spiderwebs from all eight limbs, striking serpents and their steeds in the head, shattering their skulls and breaking their necks, leaving the riders to die with their brains dripping over their flying serpents, or careen out of control on the corpses of their beasts until striking other objects in deadly collisions. Spidratha used spiderwebs like whips, lashing serpents in the face, clotheslining them off their steeds to fall into the atmosphere of Grystiawa and die upon striking the ground. The arachnid queen flailed away with all eight spiderlegs, her webbing so strong and fast that it could impale or decapitate her victims. The tide of battle quickly turned, and Spidratha made her way toward a confrontation with Serpentikal.
The Constrictress intercepted her on her winged serpent. Giant coils and spiderwebs met in the void of space. They pulled at one another in a deadly contest of strength, Spidratha trying to reel in the Constrictress and her steed. The Constrictress battled back, straining with the effort. She squeezed her winged serpent around the ribcage, spurring him to charge towards the giant spider demoness. The winged serpent bashed Spidratha with his head and gnawed at her eight breasts. The Constrictress tried to free her arms from the grip of the spiderweb, but the powerful unguents prevented her from doing so.
Spidratha released another strand of spiderweb, this one wrapping itself around the throat of the Constrictress like a sticky noose. The titanic arachnid jerked the boa combatrix back and forth, trying to break her neck, then trying to strangle her to death. Finally, she unleashed yet another strand of spiderweb, ensnaring the Constrictress by the tail. With each spiderleg gathering up the slack webbing and stretching the Constrictress like a torture rack, Spidratha attempted to pull the Constrictress apart. The Constrictress' arms pulled out of their sockets with two loud pops, and her spine slowly bent until it was on the verge of snapping.
Just before Spidratha broke the Constrictress' back, Serpentikal flew in at light speed with a cobra strike, knocking Spidratha backwards, her eight legs thrashing as she spun out of control. He bit through his lover's bonds with his giant fangs, then took her inside his mouth for protection.
Spidratha recovered, and this time she released a strand of spiderweb not only from all eight appendages, but from all eight breasts, her eight red eyes, her mouth, her vagina, and her cloaca. Each wrapped around Serpentikal's mighty neck, but Spidratha knew better than to try to strangle him. Instead, she chose to use his weight against him, and, using the twenty-seven strands of spiderweb like a giant harness, began dragging Serpentikal and his labyrinthine coils into the atmosphere of Grystiawa.
The mighty Serpentikal strained against the strength of Spidratha, but his forward momentum betrayed him. Once the Spidropolis dropped into view, Spidratha attached herself to her hive and pulled the giant cobra and his entire Serpentopolis down with her. They fell into the morning skies, ripping through crimson clouds, hurtling towards the maroon surface. Mountain ranges pricked into view, followed by the shimmer of Phantasmagorika. Soon, they could make out the little creatures in the badlands beneath, running to escape the fortress falling from the vermilion firmament.
Spidratha disengaged all twenty-seven ropes of spiderweb at the last possible moment, riding the exterior of her hive as it drifted towards the nearby mountain range. Behind her Serpentikal and his labyrinthine coils struck the ground with titanic force, setting off sonic booms and shaking the planet like an earthquake.
She looked back to see Serpentikal spitting up blood, huge gobbets of plasma that formed scarlet oases wherever they fell upon the crimson wastelands. He was alive, but injured, with no doubt many a broken bone and bruised organ. More importantly, though, was the carnage undoubtedly unleashed within the Serpentopolis, like a civilization beset by earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, tsunamis, volcanoes, or any other number of natural disasters. Many of the warriors had assuredly been killed or injured during the cataclysmic impact with Grystiawa. Their weaponry had no doubt been damaged and their supplies scattered and depleted in the fall, their snakepits caved-in and their homes demolished, burying yet more victims in the debris and rubble.
As the spiderweb hive settled into a valley of the mountain range, Spidratha scuttled along its woven exterior and back towards the insides of her lair along one of its many ziggurats, each step bearing her deeper within. As she crept along the ziggurat, Spidratha smiled to herself. Already she and her spiderkind had the advantage in the battle against the Oneirophage and Serpentikal. Spidratha crawled inside her hive with a satisfied look upon her grotesque visage. It was the exact same facial expression she had displayed in the postcoital moments immediately following orgasm with her sacrificial mates, the malevolent duality of a demoness simultaneously satiated and starving.
15
Morpheus Rex stood side by side with the Constrictress in Serpentikal's mouth, watching Spidratha and her arachnid army approach. Giant arachnisauruses, over fifty feet tall and twice as long, came on eight pillared legs that were more like those of a dinosaur than a spider. Their large mouths were filled with fangs the size of broadswords, and their tails ended in deadly morning stars the size of wrecking balls. They bore hundreds of sapient spiders upon their broad, saddled backs, hominid arachnids that walked on two legs like Spidratha, though much smaller, carrying all sorts of weapons in their six arms, from swords and axes to maces and warhammers. Tarantulas and violin spiders the size of hounds ran like wolves alongside, their mandibles slavering with battle-lust. Six-legged spidaurs, like arachnid centaurs, rode with them as well, their right arms brandishing the same weapons as their kindred, their left hands holding either spears or quarterstaffs. Underfoot and often getting crushed were smaller spiders of every species in the universe. Behind them marched the long-legged Sentinel Spiders, Spidratha's personal guard, whose elongated appendages made them the swiftest of the arachnids. Their long, slender legs culminated in a central torso, from which arose the chest, arms, and head of a male spider warlord bearing either a two-handed broadsword, a crossbow, or a morning star and shield. In their midst, surrounded on all sides, were the elite Black Widow Amazons, which resemble
d lesser versions of Spidratha, with only two breasts. They bore weapons dipped in their own personal venom, from which one blow was usually fatal.
Above the Black Widow Amazons loomed Spidratha herself, looking like the mother of death. Her eight breasts were battle-swollen upon her chest, her hourglass so crimson it throbbed. She walked on her two lower limbs with a bow-legged gait, dripping acid and spiderwebs from her vagina. Her lower left arm held a net made of spiderweb; her central left arm wielded a whip made of spiderweb; and her upper left arm carried a large broadsword wrapped in barbed wire made from spiderweb. All three of her right arms grasped the long handle of an enormous pike, whose staff touched the ground when she walked. Its enlarged adamantium tip was a nightmare of spikes, eight evenly ringed rows protruding in all eight directions. A total of sixty-four spikes Spidratha held aloft on the war-pike, whose iron head was almost as big as hers.
The crimson desert was thick with warriors. The forces of Spidratha poured from the mountains across the badlands, rapidly approaching Phantasmagorika, where the snake army of Serpentikal stood poised to meet them. The serpent warriors represented the deadliest of the species. Their appearance resembled that of the Oneirophage, having evolved in a similar manner from vipers, crotalids, and constrictors into their current state of genetic superiority, while retaining the traits of the various species of serpent from which they were descended. Their bottoms were ophidian tails, while their torsos, chests, and heads were demonic, and each bore prehensile arms to fight with. A retinue of these erectly slithering snake demons, a brigade of hominid cobras, rattlesnakes, black mambas, boa constrictors, and anacondas, made up the front lines of the serpent army. Their chests were criss-crossed with bandoliers full of projectiles, and similar belts around their waists bore daggers and swords in snakeskin sheaths and scabbards. Their hands gripped various types of longswords, lances, spears, hatchets, double swords, and morning stars. Some rode upon giant two-headed snakes, cutting a swath through the sands, while entire artilleries were mounted in one long row along immense sidewinders. Naga and gorgon warriors and lamia gladiatrixes ran with shields in one hand and weapons in the other. Suicide serpents were already being launched from parapets and battle turrets that rolled from gateways in Serpentikal's coils onto the fields of war. Serpentikal loomed over all, discussing strategy with Morpheus Rex and the Constrictress while the fisticuffs began to rage below. He had assured the Dreaming Predator that his injuries from the fall were not severe, and would not factor in the outcome of the battle.
Serpents and spiders poured around Phantasmagorika, which became the initial line of attack. The snake warriors were throwing ouroboroses, living serpents biting their own tails, at the species of spider demons which possessed protruding heads. The serpents landed like lassoes around their necks, then proceeded to devour their own tails even further, thus strangling their victims. Several of the hominid sentinels were felled this way, as well as a few Black Widow Amazons. Serpentikal himself spat larger versions of these weapons, ouroboroses of anacondas and boa constrictors, which he shot over the heads of arachnisauruses. Their heads were so large that the anacondas and boa constrictors served as garrotes rather than nooses, squeezing their skulls tighter and tighter until their heads burst and their brains exploded all over the battlefield. Many were killed and injured, as well, when the colossal, headless beasts toppled heavily to the ground.
The spider forces, meanwhile, were casting spiderweb nets, capturing serpent warriors and dragging them into their midst, where they gathered in a circle around them and struck at them in enraged mobs, beating and slashing them to death. As some of the serpents began to infiltrate the arachnid ranks, they found themselves suddenly sinking into the desert as if quagmired in quicksand, thrashing and flailing as they tried to escape before being pulled down into hidden dens, where they were killed and eaten by trap-door spider demons. The well-concealed pits had been laid out all over the desert like land mines, and claimed the lives of many a serpent warrior.
The Oneirophage and the Constrictress had joined the fray now. The Constrictress broke bones in her twin coils, her elongated arms shooting out and wrapping around everything in sight. She even snapped the legs of arachnisauruses in her powerful appendages, her muscles rippling beneath her shimmering snake skin. Her coils cracked spines, broke necks, and strangled countless victims. She used her boa constrictor arms like garrotes, as well, exploding heads with even more force and velocity than the ouroboroses launched from Serpentikal's mouth.
The Oneirophage fought alongside the Constrictress, his Prismsword and Spectrumhammer shining in the crimson sun. The razor-sharp laser beams cut the legs out from under giant tarantulas and spidaurs, and cut the heads off of Sentinel Spiders and Black Widow Amazons. He swung the two weapons masterfully, and every remaining arachnisaurus was drawn and quartered before the spider forces even realized they were under assault from the deadly beams. Huge heads and entire flanks fell to either side as the arachnisauruses were dissected and sliced apart, left laying in the sands like gargantuan pieces of meat, raw and red and precisely carved.
Spidratha was trapping warriors by the hundreds in her battle net, like a titanic retiarius, dragging them back toward her body in a tangle of struggling arms and legs, and then laying into them with her giant pike. Her whip lashed out at flying serpents that attempted to attack from the skies, killing them all with one blow. She made her way rapidly through the carnage to Phantasmagorika, cutting a path of death through the desert.
Serpentikal had started forth immediately after the Oneirophage and the Constrictress had leapt from his mouth. He dragged his immense body behind him, rolling over the wounded and the crippled, grinding their bones to dust beneath his girth. His powerful lungs blew sandstorms at the enemy, leaving many blinded and vulnerable, to die moments later. At times he would vomit cataracts of acidic venom onto the battlefield, disintegrating the enemy forces and many of his own soldiers as well. He dragged himself across the desert to Phantasmagorika, reaching the prism palace at the same time Spidratha did.
Atop Phantasmagorika, the Omnibeast lay in wait for anything foolish enough to fly near it. It defended itself from stray projectiles when necessary, but mostly seemed content to just observe the warfare below like a voyeur. The Overdragon, War Mantis, Scythetooth, and Darkworm were all spectators to the carnage, poised high above most of the action. As the remaining survivors of both parties regrouped, however, the Omnibeast became the center of attention. Chariah, the Death Addict, the Necrodelic, emerged into the crimson sun from the roof of the bestial spaceship, standing atop the head of one of his long-necked Hydratowers, high above the battlefield. He stood silently, his silhouette an imposing figure, his dark aura a palpable force in the air. Everything stopped around him, the entire war came to a halt, as everyone gazed upwards upon the alpha demon.
Chariah's crimson eyes were focused directly upon Serpentikal as he rode the skull of the Hydratower high into the air. Serpentikal attempted to hypnotize Chariah. Chariah, in turn, used his eye contact as a weapon against the ophidian behemoth. Serpentikal began to bleed from the eyeballs and, cursing, tore his gaze away from the Necrodelic, shaking blood from his eyes like teardrops. He blinked away the crimson, and then sought the eyes of the Necrodelic once again. Chariah held both hands out to the side now, palms up, claws splayed. Serpentikal tried to hypnotize him again. The Necrodelic was unreadable, his face expressionless, a mask of black patience. Serpentikal's eyes began to burn in their sockets. Wisps of smoke trailed from the corners of his eyelids.
The First Serpent became enraged. In less than a nanosecond, he unleashed his cobra strike. His humongous head hurtled towards the Necrodelic at light speed, his fangs bared to impale the little demon where he stood. Even faster than Serpentikal, the Necrodelic leaped into the air, out from the Omnibeast in a deadly arch across the desert skies at the speed of thought, the incomprehensible speed of necrodelic thought, of pure, enlightened evil. He joined all ten of his razo
r-sharp claws to form one giant black Hellsword. As he soared through the desert sky, he brought the Hellsword back over his shoulders, then swung with full strength for Serpentikal's throat. For one brief moment his ten claws sorcerously elongated, until each extended well over a hundred feet in length, soldered together into a single, devastating blade, as surely as if they were composed of adamantium tempered in the forges of Gehenna. While thusly amplified, the conjoined claws passed through the colossal cobra's neck, leaving behind a wound so straight and thin, so precise and surgical, that for several seconds it barely even bled. As Chariah continued to soar through the air over the labyrinthine Serpentopolis, blood trailing from his whistling claws, which had returned to their normal size, the head of Serpentikal began to slip and slide upon its own neck. For one eternal instant, his head hovered there on a razor's edge of blood, precariously balanced upon a narrow red laceration that seemed no wider than a vein or artery, and then, suddenly, it was falling through the air, slowly, as if in a dream. The blood-stopping screams of the Constrictress tore the still air. The severed head of Serpentikal crashed into the Serpentopolis, slaying thousands of snake demons and crushing large pieces of his own labyrinth. Serpentikal had been decapitated by the Hellsword of the Necrodelic.
Somewhere, in the midst of Serpentikal's death-spasming coils, his broken labyrinth, his ruined civilization, his fallen society, the Necrodelic had dropped as silently as an assassin. For now, Chariah had disappeared, but only in the eyes of the onlookers, for his image had been indelibly burned into their brains and their souls, and no matter where he was, or what they were doing, they still saw him, and would continue to see him, eternally, mercilessly, a living nightmare, even after they had died and their spirits were being tortured in Hell.
