Waking Up
"Once upon a midnight dreary while I pondered weak and weary..."
—Poe, The Raven
Falling from the sky, floating intricately as she glided slowly toward terra.
Beth Wolfaery couldn't see her toes.
She couldn't tell which way was up or down. The disorienting darkness enveloped her in an endless abyss, as if the world itself had swallowed her whole.
Then, in the distance, a tiny pinprick of lux pierced the nox.
Light.
Her eyes slowly adjusted.
She blinked.
Wait... what in the other mundus is that thing?
A massive purpura reptile drifted into view beneath her.
As Beth passed overhead, the enormous creature continued lazily chewing on its leafy viridis dinner, seemingly uninterested in the human falling out of the sky.
Splash!
Huck!
Beth surfaced coughing, spitting clear caeruleo-viridi aqua salsa from her mouth and nose. The saltwater burned sicut ignis.
She wiped her eyes and looked back toward the creature.
Something glinted against its enormous body.
Beth squinted.
Was that...
A collar?
The creature was enormous—an extra-magnum plesiosaur, its long neck rising gracefully from the water as though prehistoric monsters casually belonged in this world.
Beth paddled toward shore like a canis who had suddenly discovered that swimming was a terrible idea.
Behind her, thick, frothy undae crashed against the beach.
She finally reached the arena pallida cremeo-covered bank and dragged herself onto the sand. Exhausted, she collapsed for a moment, breathing deeply as the crisp ocean air filled her lungs.
She dug her toes into the warm sand.
She actually smiled.
She loved the way the tiny grains squelched between her toes.
Then she looked around.
Where were the homines?
Beth lifted her hands to her eyes like binoculars and stared across the glaring ocean. Her vision adjusted to the sunlight reflecting off the endless water.
There.
Now she could see it clearly.
A giant, scaly, purple, shimmering plesiosaur.
Beth decided immediately that its name was Purpura.
Because apparently, when faced with a prehistoric sea monster, naming it was the logical thing to do.
She gazed across the vast miles of uninterrupted ocean and took several slow breaths, focusing on the rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore.
Breathe.
Think.
Figure out where you are.
Then she turned around.
And froze.
Behind her stood a forest.
Not an ordinary forest.
A webbed forest.
Dark.
Sinister.
And filled with mysteries Beth had absolutely no desire to discover.
The trees were enormous, thick, and tangled beneath layers upon layers of dense vegetation. But what caught her attention were the enormous white masses of silken webbing stretched between them.
Worms?
Absolutely not.
Only in Beth's dreams would they be worms.
These were octo-arachnia—prickly, eight-legged, beady-eyed spiders.
And there were hundreds of them.
Their bodies were covered in starless-black fur sprinkled with hot roseus spots, as if someone had shaken a paintbrush over them and decided that subtlety was overrated.
Beth slowly backed away.
Then something ginormous began rising from the depths of the ocean.
Her eyes widened.
There was no way Beth Wolfaery was going to remain on those crusted shores long enough to discover what had just surfaced.
Some things were simply better left unknown.
Into the forest she went.
Unfortunately, she forgot about the webs.
The sticky strands immediately clung to her arms, face, and shirt.
"Ugh!"
Beth pulled one string from her cheek.
Then another.
And another.
The more she pulled, the more tangled she became.
She stumbled forward, blindly trying to free herself from the sticky mess.
She wasn't watching where she was going.
Thump.
Beth tripped.
Flop.
She landed directly in a web.
The entire forest seemed to hold its breath.
Then came the clicking.
Click.
Click-click.
Clickety-clack.
Beth slowly lifted her head.
Spiders were emerging from everywhere.
They rushed toward her, skittering across branches and dropping from the webbing above.
They surrounded her.
Tarsal claws rose.
Their bodies crab-walked from side to side as if they were preparing for the strangest boxing match in history.
Beth pressed her fingertips against her temples.
Apomancy.
She reached into the strange ability she had used before, attempting to communicate with the arachnids.
"Stop."
Nothing.
She tried again.
"Please stop."
More clicking.
Beth frowned.
Apparently, she hadn't mastered clickety-clackety.
The spiders moved closer.
Their glistening fangs opened.
Drool dripped from them.
Beth swallowed hard.
Fine.
Plan B.
She called to the birds.
The spiders answered with another chorus of furious clicks.
Beth's eyes widened as they advanced.
She turned her face away and squeezed her eyes shut.
Hundreds of venomous bites.
That was how this was going to end.
She waited.
Nothing.
Then—
Rustle.
Beth's eyes remained closed.
Something moved in the leaves above her.
The web beneath her began to sway.
Then bounce.
The spiders stopped.
The forest went completely silent.
Not quiet.
Silent.
So silent that Beth imagined she could hear a single feather hitting the forest floor.
Cold sweat prickled across her skin.
What could possibly be worse than these spiders?
She didn't want to know.
Had she really been saved from the ocean only to become a meal for something else?
The web slowly sprang backward.
Then settled.
Beth held her breath.
Nothing.
She cautiously opened one eye.
And suddenly—
WHOOSH!
She was launched through the air like a rock from a slingshot.
Her arms spiraled wildly.
Her legs flailed.
"Ahhhhh!"
She had no idea where she was going or what had just thrown her.
All she could do was hope she remembered how to land.
She twisted at the last second.
Thump.
Beth landed cat-like on the decomposing carpet of leaves, branches, bark, and stems covering the forest floor.
She remained perfectly still.
For several seconds, she said nothing.
Then she slowly lifted her head.
"What... the world... was that?"
Beth looked back toward the direction she'd been thrown.
Nothing.
Not a spider.
Not a bird.
Not even a rustling leaf.
Whatever had launched her through the forest was gone.
Or hiding.
Beth slowly pushed herself to her feet.
Her heart hammered against her chest.
She brushed leaves from her clothes and looked around.
The forest suddenly didn't seem quite as empty as it had a moment ago.
Somewhere nearby, something moved.
Beth froze.
A faint warmth touched her skin.
Then came a strange sound from deeper within the trees.
Not a growl.
Not a click.
Not anything she recognized.
She took one cautious step forward.
Whatever had saved her from the spiders...
She was beginning to suspect it wasn't finished with her yet.
