part0040

All these years carrying the dreadful secret with him, and when he had revealed the mystery of the island to his family, they hadn’t believed him. They should all be ashamed. There had been no laughter; there was too much respect for old Prachya, and no one could hypothesize an alternative, better reason for the island’s abandonment. Chakrit’s own father had told him the story when he turned fourteen, before handing him his first beer. Together on the fishing boat, drifting aimlessly out to sea, they had gotten drunk together for the first time.

And now here it stood, colossal and evil, the thing from his grandfather’s fairy story, the beast that had haunted his dreams until he passed on.

Just as he described.

It was real, and coming straight for him.

He hoped the girls had found their way out.

‘I’m not afraid of you,’ lied Chakrit, his fist closed over the handle of the knife in a death-grip. What use would a blade be against a creature of this magnitude? Escape was his only chance. But where was the exit? The gigantic arachnid just stood there, watching with its many eyes. It started towards him, the vaguely humanoid shape that protruded from its belly hanging like a sagging sack of flesh, the lifeless hands scraping off the rocks and leaving a thick trail of blood. Its movements were sluggish, obviously suffering from the repercussions of what it had done to the other girl in the web, the one that Ana recognised. This must be why the men on the island had taken Rachel first and kept Ana for later. The creature must need time to recover from…from whatever the fuck it was doing.

Chakrit ran, trying to zig and zag between rocky outcrops and stalagmites. And behind him, the bizarre mental torture of the click-click-click of the feet. The torch picked out a vast pool of blood. He looked up and saw what was left of Lisa, her remains spread out across the web. It was all he needed to know. He had his bearings now.

He pushed his body to the limit, every muscle crying out for mercy, feet pounding, heart racing, never once looking back. Chakrit swerved left and noticed the fire burning in the tunnel. He doubled his efforts to the point where his body could take no more. As he reached the tunnel entrance, something oily wrapped around his wrist, tugging him back.

They tightened, digging into his skin and drawing fresh blood. He yelped, bringing the knife up and slashing through the membranous cords. They hissed as he sliced them, a foul-smelling gas issuing from the severed stumps, and then he found himself in the tunnel. Up ahead — way up ahead — moonlight and potential safety. It was too narrow for the spider to fit through. He looked around for Ana and Rachel but could find no trace of them.

Tentacles coiled round his ankle like rat tails. Chakrit bent to slice them but he wasn’t quick enough. They went taut and he lost his footing and crashed to the ground. He tried to get back to his feet but they pulled, dragging him over rocks that gashed and cut his skin, out of the tunnel and back towards the infernal creature. He stabbed his knife into the ground and held on, shining the torch back into the cavern.

The spider was barely ten feet away. The revolting skinless humanoid that hung from the spider’s belly had two fleshy hands on the attenuated tentacles and was winding them in like a fisherman with his catch of the day. It was too strong. Chakrit forced his way to his feet and lunged for the flaming torch affixed to the wall.

He gripped it with both hands, letting the knife and the flashlight fall. The tentacles dug into his ankle, pulling tighter, stripping the flesh from his leg. He roared, fingers tightening over the torch until he felt his whole body shake, his knuckles whitening. He couldn’t hold on much longer, the spider’s breath hitting him like an Arctic wind.

The wall fixing for the torch moved, one nail tearing out of the rock as Chakrit edged ever closer to death. He thought of his uncle waiting on the boat for him. Little Grub the pug would be there too, sheltering from the cold.

How long would they wait?

More tentacles, lengthy probing fingers that coiled around his other foot, burning as they sliced easily through Chakrit’s skin, pulling him until he was horizontal. The Upside-Down man strained hard on the veiny cables, and Chakrit knew he couldn’t take much more, his fingers slipping. Then the torch came loose, tearing free of the fixings and Chakrit dropped to the ground, jolting his coccyx, inching towards the spider, his back scraping along the jagged points of the cave, torch in hand.

The great beast reared up again on its hind legs, the bony proboscis bursting free from the Upside-Down man’s soft, balloon-like head, the tip sharp and cruel, hovering ready to strike. Chakrit thrust the torch forwards and the spider withdrew, stepping backwards, almost falling. He put the torch to his own leg, the tentacles fizzing and popping as they burst and fell away, not caring that the flames licked and caressed his own savaged ankle, the smell of burning meat assaulting his nostrils. And then, as quickly as it had come, the spider disappeared into the sanctity of the cavern, leaving Chakrit breathless and horrified.

From deep within he heard screams.

The girls were still in there.

And it was coming for them.

Chakrit pounded his fist off the wall. He didn’t know if he could walk, his legs badly damaged in the attack. Only shock was keeping him conscious now, and the pain at bay.