Her wrists and ankles were tied with rough ropes. The room smelled of mint tea.One of the spiders waved its legs and secured the final knot with a flick of silk.They exchanged glances. Cobwebs and lizard trails lined the walls.Other than that, only the sound of silence could be heard.
A spider, standing atop a stool, unrolled an old-fashioned roll of duct tape and sealed the woman's mouth. Not that she could scream—She was already staring ahead, frozen in shock.
Emma felt the tape press against her lips. She had long lost all hope of speaking.
The iron door creaked open, releasing a wave of dust into the room. It smelled of rust and mold.Spider Lutte entered. He held his exoskeleton high, and his eyes gleamed like they'd been dusted with demon powder.
The other spiders immediately knelt before him.
Emma felt a burning in her bound eyes, as though her vision, like her hands, had been tied for far too long. She shifted her gaze to the left.The spider was walking toward her—slowly.
"Where is Magnus Truve?" Lutte asked.
Emma whimpered, her breath misting."I don't know."
The spider burst into laughter. "You don't, huh?The man who betrayed the lover you once seduced just happens to disappear... And you, always one to play both sides, won't say where Meyer is, either. You enjoy pulling the strings, don't you?"He raised his bristly legs.
Emma flinched, closing her eyes.
"Open them," Lutte barked. "Or I'll rip the chip from your brain."
Emma shook her head violently."No."
"That chip… was the source of your beauty, wasn't it?An interface that manipulated time and consciousness.We spiders invented it.You humans only stole it.After years of crushing us with your sandals and poison,you couldn't imagine we'd survive—evolve.But revenge wasn't why we did it. We're not you."
Emma froze. Her body began to tremble. Lutte reached out a leg and ripped the tape off her face with a sharp clips.It stung like hell. The peach fuzz on her cheeks felt torn.
"Let me go, you disgusting beast!" she screamed."I did everything you asked! What more do you want?"
The other spiders raised their obsidian blades in response.
"That wasn't everything, Emma," Lutte hissed." You were supposed to deliver Meyer to me.Him, or Magnus. That man was my masterpiece—God's perfect sculpture with my exquisite design. Now what? After forty years of working on his neural chemistry, he's gone.Gone, like all of them."He brushed his leg against her face again.
"All thanks to Magnus and his pathetic swarm. They're weak—easily seduced by power.Magnus couldn't assert himself. And once Meyer saw the spiders submitting to him…Do you think he'd ever kneel before me again?" Lutte's voice paused."That's why this... is good."
A soldier spider entered the room, dragging a small triangular sword on the floor.
Lutte approached.
The soldier whispered into his ear, covering his mouth with shaking hands.
Lutte reeled back, shrieking."A truck crash? Dead?All my work—dead?!"
Emma's breath caught.She had no idea what had happened.
"What truck? What crash?!"
"Shut your mouth," Lutte roared."Shut it, you filthy whore!"
The spiders sealed her lips again with fresh duct tape. Only muffled cries followed—"Mmff... Mmff..."
And those muffled cries would go on…for a long time.
Once Lutte left the room, Emma tried to piece the events together.
Then, a thought pierced her like ice:
"No one can ever find out what I did.Not a trace. Not a single cell of DNA on Grace's body.Just a dead girl.Let Collapse worry about the rest—The one who spent nights playing games with her like a racehorse.Everyone was born to face the consequences of their own decisions."
She clenched her jaw. Hard.So hard it nearly cracked.Her thoughts spiraled, taking her back to that night.
The night she tore Grace Huyger apart.
Flashback – A Quiet Road
Grace Huyger had just handed her black horse to a stablehand near the racing grounds.She walked alone now, toward the glowing tower lights in the distance.The warm air kissed her cheeks.She crouched to retie the laces on her long, brown leather boots.Tonight, this desolate street felt just as liberating as the racetrack.And more than freedom—It was a proving ground. A battlefield of pride, especially for her father.
She knew her parents fought because of her.It was wearing her down.
But her Aunt Ellice's voice echoed in her head:
"Everything changes when you take responsibility for your choices."
Soon she missed her horse.She sighed softly.And then—a crack behind her.
Footsteps. Crushing the volcanic weeds.
She froze. Should she look back?Or would that just speed things up?
Then—she felt cold metal pressing near her spine.Too low to be a warning.Too precise to be a bluff.
"Hello, Grace," said the voice behind the blade.
Her heart pounded.
"Want to hang out for a bit?" the voice whispered.
"W-who are you?" she gasped.
"Don't worry," came the soft reply."I won't kill you... under one condition."
"S-say it!"
"I want your horse.It's close, isn't it?"
Grace trembled.As if someone had touched her purity.She clenched her teeth.
"Never."
"Aww, Grace," the voice mocked."Is a horse really worth dying for?"
It's not just a horse, she thought.It's everything.
Then she knew—this was it.
"Never!" she cried.
And the blade pierced her back.
Blood painted her thoughts in crimson fog.She tried to scream, but air got tangled in her throat.Every strike opened a wound.And the mask—The spider mask—slid off.
Revealing…
"E–Emma?!"
Back to the Present
Emma stared at the cobweb on the ceiling, her breath shallow and ragged.Her lips twitched behind the tape.
"No one will ever know."