Kevin walked with guns in hand. He and Christine crept silently along the hall, wary for any signs of ambush. Casting a dim yellow glow, the overhead lamps buzzed and blinked. He wondered if they’d ever been replaced.
Christine walked behind him, her hand gripping the back of his shirt. He could hear her heavy breathing and feel her arm as it shook. This was the first time she’d willingly done something like this. Kevin remembered the fear he’d felt during the first mission that he’d willingly took, so he could imagine how she must have been feeling right then.
“Don’t worry, Christine,” he whispered reassuringly. “No matter what happens, I promise that I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
He didn’t see her, as he was looking ahead, but he could imagine her nod as she clenched his shirt a little tighter.
Doors appeared on their left and right. They were old, worn, grimy, and disgusting. A small slit at eye level allowed him to see through. Most of the rooms were empty. A few had several objects inside—long tables with straps, bolted down metal chairs gleaming with the dullness of rust. Kevin imagined people being strapped to those objects and tortured. He really hoped Heather and Phoebe hadn’t been subjected to that, but he knew it was wishful thinking.
Please let them be alive.
“K-Kevin! I found them!”
Spinning about on a dime, Kevin rushed over to Christine, who’d opened a door. He looked inside. The room, dark enough that he could scarcely see the interior, looked similar to all the others. Only two differences were present: Heather and Phoebe; they were inside, strapped to a pair of tables, their bodies still.
“Phoebe! Heather!”
Losing all sense of composure, Kevin rushed into the room and over to the first person he could reach: Heather. She remained inert. Drool leaked from her mouth, forming a small puddle underneath her head and dripping over the side. Her body did not move. Were it not for the rise and fall of her chest, he would have assumed she wasn’t even alive.
“Heather? Heather!”
Heather blinked, but she gave no other indication that she’d heard him.
“Kevin Swift…” a voice said from the other table.
“Phoebe!”
Kevin ran up to Phoebe, who appeared conscious. As he peered down at her, her eyes swam into focus and fixated on him.
“Is this… a dream?”
“No.”
“That’s what the dream said.”
Kevin paused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but that doesn’t matter. We’re getting you and Heather out of here.”
“Don’t… you should hurry up and leave.”
“I don’t know why you’d think I’m just gonna leave you behind after coming here.” Kevin pulled out a knife and used it to slice through Phoebe’s bonds. “Christine, give me a hand and cut Heather’s bonds.”
… No response.
“Christine?”
“I’m afraid your friend isn’t gonna be able to help you.”
Kevin spun around, guns at the ready, to see the most disgusting creature ever holding a frightened Christine in his grasp. Warts covered a bulging body that sagged and folded. A webbed hand covered Christine’s mouth, while the other was pointed at him. Bulging frog eyes stared at him, malign and full of hate. He wore a standard warden's uniform, though that did little to mask his yōkai origins.
“You see…” the gama’s lips peeled back in a toothless grin, “… you’re both going to die here.”
This prison, base, was a lot larger than Kotohime had initially estimated.
Aside from the underground passage, which seemed to extend far beneath the island and maybe even the lake, the base itself was a network of hallways. Dozens of lateral passages crossed through the one she walked down, turning off or branching out. Dozens of doors led to unused rooms. Staircases ascended and descended. From them, Kotohime had determined that this base had five levels, most of which were located underground. It made sense. With human technology like airplanes and ballistic missiles, having a base above ground was like painting a target on their backs.
There were a few yōkai present, but most of them were weak. Kotohime cut them down like wheat before a scythe.
“There she is!”
“It’s the bitch who killed our comrades!”
“Get her!”
There were four of them this time, all of them tsuchigumo that only came up to her waist.
“Ikken Hisatsu.”
Kotohime unsheathed her blade, slashed out in front of her, then resheathed her blade, all of it done so quickly that none of her enemies seemed to have seen it. A ripple launched toward them, a wave in the shape of a crescent. It went through them, and at first, nothing seemed to happen. It was only after the spider yōkai had stopped, apparently having finally noticed that something was wrong, that her attack became obvious.
Slowly, ever so slowly, their upper halves slid off their bottom halves. Eight legs separated and fell to the floor with a clatter, while large abdominals hit the cement with a wet squish. Blood flowed freely from the dead bodies, and Kotohime walked through them without a care in the world.
Ascending a flight of stairs, Kotohime followed the powerful youki she sensed. It was emanating from somewhere above her. She strode down several corridors, defeating the few yōkai who stood in her way. Then she came upon a door made from the same steel as every other door, but cleaner, newer. The burnished steel gleamed in the light, and the youki she felt on the other side, vast and potent, merely let her know that she had reached her destination.
She took a deep breath and centered herself. Caressing the hilt of her katana, Kotohime slid her feet along the ground and adopted a traditional battoujutsu stance. Youki flowed through her body, enhancing her muscles to superhuman levels. She counted down in her mind. Three. Two—
“The door is unlocked,” a voice said from inside.
Kotohime frowned, the only sign of her worry that she would let show. Very few yōkai could sense the youki of others. Although there were a few species that were natural sensors, those yōkai were rare enough as to be considered nearly extinct. While it was possible the person behind this door was, indeed, a natural sensor, the more logical conclusion was they had been trained to sense youki like she had. However, that meant whoever this person was, they were a highly skilled individual, as training to detect youki took, at the very least, several decades.
Calming herself with a deep breath, Kotohime reached out, opened the door, and stepped through. Whoever was on the other side wouldn’t be fooled by simple tactics. In which case, it was better to confront them head on.
She entered the room, closing the door behind her and putting up a barrier on the door. Whoever this person was, she wanted to keep them inside.
“Welcome,” the person said, “to my humble lair…” He paused, tilting his head as a small smile appeared on his face. “Well, I call it my lair, but it’s more like a fourth home. Regardless, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Kotohime, or should I call you Tsukihime?”
“Kotohime will be fine,” Kotohime replied mildly.
The person she sensed was a male—a very pretty male that she would have probably mistaken as a female if she didn’t know any better. His long silver hair looked glossy as if freshly washed. His face was not chiseled, but possessed a more effeminate quality. Even his body seemed thinner than a supposedly twenty-something year-old man should have been. What stood out the most, however, was neither his hair, face, nor body.
It was his reptilian features. Vibrant yellow eyes watched her from beneath a silver fringe. They did not possess the standard circular pupil, but instead had two thin vertical slits. Peeking out from beneath the long trench coat he wore, bright white scales traveled up his neck and over parts of his face, glistening.
Kotohime’s pulse quickened. She knew of only a few reptilian yōkai. All of them were rare, and all of them were powerful. Monstrang was one, but he was the only that she knew personally.
“Are you the leader of the Yamata Alliance?”
The man smiled. “I am indeed.” He inclined his head. “I prefer to remain anonymous for now, but if you wish to call me something, then you may call me Hebi.”
Kotohime narrowed her eyes. Hebi. In Japanese, the word meant snake. Did that mean that he was a snake yōkai, or was he trying to throw her off? Either way, she might be in trouble. Yōkai of the reptilian variety were some of the most powerful in recorded history.
I need more information.
“And why are you doing this? Why have you decided to wage war against humanity?”
“Would you believe me if I said revenge?” Hebi smiled. It was the most fake smile that she had ever seen. His lips peeled back, revealing sharp teeth. She thought she saw a tongue flick out between them but couldn’t be sure. Regardless, her danger senses went haywire just from seeing it.
“I would not,” Kotohime responded, remaining calm. If there was a fight to be had, then losing her composure now would result in her defeat. “I am sorry to say, but from just this little conversation, you do not strike me as the type who cares about getting revenge on humanity for perceived slights.”
The smile widened. “I never said it was against the humans.”
Kotohime’s spine stiffened. Hebi stood from his seat, causing her to raise her hand and grab the hilt of her katana. The motion was jerky.
“To be perfectly frank, I do not care whether humanity lives or dies, though it would be disappointing to have my main food source suddenly vanish on me. No. My reasons for this war have nothing to do with humans. They were merely a convenient excuse for me to make my move.”
Her senses were on high alert. Every bone in her body, every instinct she had, screamed at her to run away, that this was a creature she couldn’t face. She didn’t understand it. How… how could someone so innocuous, so normal in appearance, give her this kind of feeling? It was abnormal!
“A convenient excuse for what?” she asked, her breathing stilted.
“For what? Why, for the complete and utter annihilation of the Four Saints,” he said, spreading his arms wide.
Hebi disappeared. Kotohime’s eyes widened. Where did he—?!
He was suddenly right in front of her. His yellow eyes bored into hers like a pair of poisoned daggers.
“And you, my dear,” Hebi started, his lips curling, “are you going to help me.”
Chapter 11
Ōtsuchigumo
Polydora was sure they were lost.
They’d been traveling through this tunnel for what felt like hours, following its twists and turns. There were so many different paths to follow. The tunnel branched off into more tunnels, which in turned branched off into even more tunnels. To her, it felt like they were going around in circles.
The tunnel walls, ash gray sediment, were oddly smooth to the touch. She imagined it was caused by thousands of years of erosion. The ground was likewise smooth, which also made it slippery. Gaining any traction on this ground was difficult, and several times she or one of the others would slip and fall as they walked.
“Does anyone else feel like we’re not going anywhere?” Euryale asked. She held her sword loosely at her side.
“It does feel kinda like we’re walking in circles,” Menippe agreed, using her spear as a walking stick.
“Could you please keep it down?” Polydora asked, grunting as she shifted Thoe in her grip. Their friend was still unconscious. The blood running down her back was leaking onto her thighs, which caused Polydora’s hands, tightly gripping her friend’s plump legs, to slip several times. Polydora gritted her teeth as she tried to retain a firm grip on the woman.
“You really are a killjoy, you know that, Polydora?” Euryale said.
“I would rather be a killjoy than dead,” Polydora stated firmly.
Just then, a strange echoing sound came to them. Everybody stopped, and Polydora strained her ears. That noise… it sounded like falling rocks, but that couldn’t have been right. While this tunnel was composed of stone, there were no loose rocks, as far as she was aware.
“W-what do you think that noise is?” asked Menippe.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Euryale said, then paused. “At least, I hope it’s nothing.”
The noise grew louder and became more distinct. Polydora soon picked up another sound, one that accompanied the sound of falling rocks. Clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack-clack. It was a sound that had haunted her nightmares ever since her harrowing escape from Chervloux. Even now, days later, she recognized what it was easily, and she understood what it meant.
“Run!”
The girls needed no prompting. They took off, running down the tunnel as fast as their feet could carry them. They slipped and slid along the glossy surface, yet they did not stop. Behind them, appearing from around the corner, a massive figure chased after them on eight legs.
“It’s the spider again!” Ioxeia shouted, looking behind them.
It was, indeed, the spider yōkai who’d originally trapped them within its illusion and web. The massive body, carried forward on eight spiked legs, rushed along the ceiling. Its legs burrowed holes into the ceiling, piercing the stone like it was made of warm butter. Cracks appeared along its surface, chipping off pieces of rock that fell to the ground.
“Do not think I’m going to let you get away!”
It spat webs at them. Each one was about the size of a basketball, and they moved at speeds relative to a car going full throttle.
Polydora tried to dodge them by sliding along the floor, her comrades attempting the same. She winced when Euryale rammed into her shoulder, sending her stumbling in the other direction, where she nearly hit Aspidocharme. While she would have liked to toss Euryale a reproachful glare, she had neither the time nor ability, especially since Thoe’s limp body was dangling from her back. The giant spider yōkai was gaining on them.
“Come back, my little flies!”
Webs flew all around them. They slapped against the walls and exploded with a loud splat! Webs unfurled and expanded. Polydora realized what these were—traps. This yōkai wasn’t just shooting webs at them, but shooting traps that she and her comrades might run into!
They swerved around the webs they could and hopped over those they couldn’t. However, as more webs splattered against the ground and expanded, Polydora knew that it would only be a matter of time before one of them was caught.
“Ah!”
At the sound of a scream, she turned to see Menippe kneeling on the ground, her leg trapped within a web. The girl gripped her thigh and tried to pull herself free, gritting her teeth and struggling with all her might. Her biceps bulged and veins appeared on her forearm. It was all for naught, however, as the web was just too strong.
“Menippe!” Euryale shouted as she skidded along the ground, reversing her course and running toward her trapped friend.
Polydora knew those two wouldn’t stand a chance against the monster before them. She bit her lip, struggling with indecision. If she stayed, then her friends might survive. Then again, they might all die, but at least they could buy time for the others. But then what would happen to Lady Phoebe? What should she do?
“Polydora!” Aspidocharme shouted. “What are you doing just standing there?! Hurry up!”
She looked back at Menippe and Euryale. Menippe was still stuck, but Euryale had finally arrived and begun to slice through the web. Yet the web was thick and strong. It would take some time before she could cut all the way, and by then, the giant spider yōkai would be on them.
Polydora turned back to Aspidocharme and the others. She tossed Thoe at Oïstrophe, who squawked as she caught the unconscious woman. Then she pulled her batons from her thigh sheaths.
“You all go on without us! We shall hold this creature off!”
Amid the shouts of her fellow warriors, Polydora turned about and charged at the massive beast, which loomed over Meni
ppe and Euryale.
She would not allow even one of her comrades to die.
Euryale could have sworn.
She didn’t regret turning back to rescue her friend—she would never regret something like that. But the situation she’d suddenly found herself in was not a good one.
She and Menippe stood before a massive creature, a hairy arachnid that loomed over them like a colossal titan. Its fangs, two giant mandibles that could snap either of them in half, dripped with saliva.
Menippe’s foot was still stuck. They’d not been able to pull it out, and cutting it wasn’t working. The webs that affixed her leg to the ground were harder than steel and denser than bricks. While her youki-enhanced muscles could cut through it, breaking Menippe free was going to take more time than she had available.
So, sword in hand, Euryale stood in front of Menippe. As the spider yōkai bore down on them, she slashed at it. Her hope was to at least draw blood and make it back off, but the ancient yōkai appeared to be far more capable than she gave it credit for. Her sword was blocked by a massive mandible, and it was she who had to pull back when her sword began melting.
Acid?
What she’d at first believed was saliva was actually acid. Steam rose from the ground as acid dripped from its mandibles, hissing and spitting as it ate the stone floor.
Euryale’s breathing grew heavy with fear. Terror tried to paralyze her, yet she wouldn’t allow it, not when it meant certain death for her and Menippe.
The giant arachnid lunged at her with a spiked leg. Euryale knew that she couldn’t dodge—Menippe was behind her. She turned on her side, presenting her profile to the beast. As the spiked leg ran past her, she hacked at it with her sword, aiming for the jointed segment where the leg was weakest.
Steaming hot blood sprayed from the severed limb, coating Euryale in warm liquid. The scent of copper caused her nose to wrinkle, and she winced as her skin blistered. It seemed that even this creature’s blood was acidic to some degree.
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