Demon's Daughter: A Cursed Book (30 page)

When I turned again, the last ghoul wrapped its hands around my throat.

It squeezed tighter, making it harder and harder to breathe. I swung my hatchet at its head. It throttled me furiously, my head snapping back and forth. It finally threw me so hard we toppled back onto the ground. I lost my grip on my hatchet. My vision was starting to blur. The ghoul hissed and aimed its teeth at my body. I drove my knee into its stomach and pushed the demon over my head, sending it flying back, its claws making shallow scratches along my neck.

As I coughed air back into my lungs, I rolled and grabbed my hatchet. I looked up as the ghoul lunged for me again, pushing back at the last second and swinging my hatchet into the ghoul’s face. The metal cracked against its face, driving it back. I lashed out with my foot, catching it in the chest. It stumbled back, stopping when it heard the metal clicking noise.

Half a second later, heavy metal spikes jolted up from the floor and skewered the ghoul. I shuddered as the spike protruded through its legs to the top of its head. I waited until I heard the metal spikes snap back down into the floor, saw the demon burst into an ashy cloud before I sighed with relief.

I jumped about a foot in the air when I felt someone touch my arm, getting ready to swing my hatchet again. But it was only Warrick. His bright green eyes were glowing as he looked at me with concern.

“Are you all right?” he asked, helping me to my feet.

I looked at the injuries he’d taken. There were shallow claw marks on his chest and arms, as well as the bloody gash on his forehead.

“Fine,” I said, backing up. “You look worse than I do.”

He stifled a laugh and grinned a little. “Don’t be so sure.”

I just looked away. “Max, you okay?”

He was scratched, holding a silver knife dripping black blood, and looking rattled, but he was breathing. That was all that mattered.

“I really hate ghouls,” he pouted. “And floors that shoot spikes.”

“You’re not the only one,” I stated.

I looked at the floor again, then took out a knife resting against my ribs. I tossed it over the spikes, hoping there was a space we could walk onto.

The knife clattered on the stone floor, but I didn’t hear a click. Tentatively, I stepped over the line. When I wasn’t spitted like a pig, I relaxed and beckoned the guys.

“Come on, it’s safe.”

Max gaped at me. “You’re joking.”

I picked up my knife, spinning it between my fingers. “Just watch where you walk and you’ll be fine. Don’t be a wuss.”

I turned and looked at the floor, taking small steps until I saw the next line of holes. I continued my testing method of tossing a knife over the line of holes and stepping over carefully if I didn’t hear a click. Warrick and Max were right behind me, because I could hear Max complaining. After crossing another four steps, we made it to the other side of the room. I turned and looked at the guys.

“Everyone all right?”

“We’re not full of holes, if that’s what you mean,” Max muttered.

Accepting his yes, I turned forward. The exit door was made of rotting wood and didn’t have any markings on it, so I didn’t have to cut my hand open again. I was about to push forward when Warrick stood across from me, holding out his hand and pressing his ear against the door. He must not have heard anything, because he backed up and pulled it open. We turned left and walked in silence until we reached the next door.

***

It took us about twenty minutes of powerwalking to reach, but there was no mistaking the heavy stone door ahead. It looked identical to the last one, so finding the pentagram wasn’t hard. I peeled back the bandage on my hand, ready to tear my wound open again. Warrick placed his hand on my shoulder, getting my attention.

“What?” I asked.

He let go of me and took out one of his own knives, cutting open his palm before I could say anything.

“It doesn’t always have to be you,” he said.

Warrick turned and smeared his blood on the pentagram.

Almost instantly, there was a heavy sound of the door unlocking, then a steady grinding as it slid open. Max moved closer and our collective flashlights illuminated the room before us.

“Fuck,” I breathed.

The cavern was completely covered in cobwebs. White, silky strands of webbing curved along the corners of the room, some of it looking shiny and fresh while other parts looked dusted and old. Strands hung in between the floor and the ceiling like stringy stalactites and stalagmites. The floor was lined with a heavy network of webs, as was the roof.

All of that was creepy. But not nearly as creepy as the large, oval shaped cocoons randomly spread around the room. All of them were around four to six feet tall, sticking to the walls, the floor, the corners, and the roof. I got a little nauseated when I considered the things inside those cocoons were probably people. I could only pray that Fate had taken mercy on them and let them die before they were wrapped up.

“No chance we can skip this room?” I asked.

Max looked at me. “Uh, no? Why, are you afraid of spiders?”

“I have a strong dislike for them.”

Max raised his eyebrows. “Holy shit, are you seriously afraid of spiders? You know they’re a million times smaller than you, right?”

It was the first time in hours since Max had sounded like himself, so I held back on the idea of smacking him.

“I get the feeling that after this, you’ll be thinking differently,” I grumbled before I walked into the room.

It was like walking on sticky quicksand. The cobwebs clung to our feet and sank a little with every step we took. It was hard to stay balanced, and we only had each other to fall on when we stumbled.

We were about a quarter of the way through the room when I heard the first skittering noise behind me. I whirled in the direction of the sound, but saw nothing. Max and Warrick turned with me, and I did not like the tall shadows cast by the tiny flashlights on our belts.

We took a couple more cautious steps, heard more skittering noises, and then Warrick shouted in alarm. I whirled and saw a spider the size of a pit bull latched to his back.

He stumbled but didn’t collapse or thrash around as much as he should have, using his knife to stab the spider in the face. It screeched once, then dropped off his back into a black, ashy heap. Warrick glared at the spider’s body, but didn’t look fazed at all. I raised my eyebrow. Warrick was nothing if not practical.

I stopped admiring his coolness when I heard more skittering noises and chitters. There were more spiders. A lot more. At least eight of them poured out of hiding from deep within the cobwebs, and I was positive they were dropping down from the ceiling.

Warrick handed Max a handgun. “Keep them off us!” he shouted.

I didn’t know how many there actually were, but I was going to get up close and personal with them. I wanted to get out of this room right now, and the best way to do that was to have everyone fighting and shooting as much as they could.

Using my hatchet, I twisted and slashed at the spider I saw coming out of the corner of my eye. It squealed when my blessed blade struck its head, black blood squirting onto the underside of my arm. I wrenched the hatchet out as it dissolved, and took an awkward step forward to see Warrick shooting as many spiders as he could until the chamber of his shotgun clicked empty.

Another spider jumped for him, but I was close enough to kick it away. The move saved him, but caused me to stumble forward and hold my arms out for balance. The perfect target for a spider to get its pincers around.

I cried out as the pincers dug into my left arm, squeezing like a vice as the arachnid tried to sever it at the elbow. I swiveled my torso and hacked at the spider’s face until it let go, but I didn’t kill it. This was when I noticed they weren’t just big spiders. They were goddamn big
demon
spiders.

Their bodies were black, lithe, and covered in coarse hair and white cobwebs, the feelers on the back of their eight legs hooked and sharp. They had four antlike pincers, and six blood red eyes on the top of their head.

I had always thought spiders looked disturbing, but now I knew I was going to have nightmares about them for the rest of my life.

Which might not last much longer.

The spider hissed angrily and launched itself at me. My feet were trapped in the cobwebs, but I turned my upper body so the spider didn’t slam into me. Its clawed legs still brushed along my stomach and there was enough weight behind the graze to throw me off balance. I didn’t care about grace or style, so when I slammed my hatchet into the spider’s back, I dropped right onto the cobwebs and the spider.

It reeked of sulfur and bad body odor, almost making me gag as it wriggled to get free from under me. I raised my hatchet and slammed it down again and again until the spider collapsed in on itself. I was covered in black, demon-spider blood, my left arm was throbbing with pain, and I couldn’t unstick myself from the webbed floor.

Which made it all the worse when the mother of the demon-spiders landed in front of me.

She must have hidden in the corners from us, because there was no mistaking her. She looked just like her children, only four times the size. She had a dozen glowing red eyes and ten legs instead of eight. Fear threatened to freeze me, but I couldn’t let that happen. If I did, I was dead, and so was Dro.

I was still stuck on the floor and had no time to get up. When she charged me, I flipped myself aggressively onto my back so I was underneath the mother spider. I hacked at her legs with my hatchet, but she was able to move around this environment way better than I could. After two strikes, she had moved again. She raised her thorax and I saw the sharp spinnerets under her belly. She lunged down at the same time that I pulled my feet back to avoid being stabbed by them. The mother spider made the same move, getting closer. There were only so many times I could curl myself into a ball before those spinnerets drove themselves into me.

Sharp gunshots popped through the room. I had been so busy fighting for my life that I’d somehow managed to drown out the sounds of gunfire. But at least Max was still alive, and shooting. The mother spider hissed and started for him, forgetting about me for a second. Arms suddenly hooked themselves under mine and hauled me to my feet. I whipped my head around and saw Warrick behind me. Black blood and cobwebs were on his face and in his hair, and I could see more cuts on his chest.

I pulled out of his arms and looked at the mother spider approaching Max. The other smaller spiders seemed to be dead or hiding, but they were insignificant compared to the mother spider. Max stepped back and fired another shot at her as she crawled up the wall to get height on him. His shot missed as she was crouching, getting ready to strike. I reached for a silver knife on my hip. Max might have crappy aim, but I didn’t.

He took a step back and stumbled, landing on his ass on the webbed floor. The mother spider hissed and was about to jump off the wall when I threw my silver blade. Even from ten feet away and three feet up, my throw hit her square in one of her eyes. She shrieked and thrashed, whirling on us.

“Good job pissing it off,” Warrick hissed sharply.

“Not the time,” I shot back.

The mother spider stomped angrily in our direction, the webbed floor trembling with every step she made. Warrick and I split off from each other, but she was focused on me. I ducked and dodged as fast as I could to avoid her, but was aware of my surroundings so I wouldn’t be end up against a wall and become completely fucked.

The mother spider bowed down and swiped at me with one of her legs, nearly hooking into me. While I was distracting her, Warrick found his opening. He lunged up with his knife and stabbed the mother spider in her thorax. She shrieked as he twisted the blade and did as much damage as he could, before one of her legs lashed out and kicked him hard in the chest. Warrick flew across the room, and I lost sight of him in the darkness.

I reached up and wrenched my silver knife out of the mother spider’s eye, her horrifying arachnid face snapping back to mine. I slashed my hatchet across her face, the blade cutting into two more eyes like they were juicy grapes. The mother spider screamed and slammed her head into my chest before I could back up. I landed on the floor, and she drove her head into my chest again. It felt like a truck was bouncing up and down on my chest. I could feel my collarbone straining under the strikes. As she came down again, I pushed up with my silver knife, driving it straight into her head. The mother spider whipped her head back and forth, making me lose my grip on the knife.

Then she scooped me up in her pincers and started pulling me towards her mouth.

The adrenaline pounding through my heart started to crack, and give way to fear. I pushed out with my arms and legs to keep her from completely crushing me, but it wasn’t going to do much good for long. She was just so fucking
strong.
I could see sharp, snakelike fangs and a tiny black tongue flickering inside her mouth. She squeezed and my body condensed again. I tried not to think about what was happening. If I did, I was going to scream. If I screamed, I would die.

I shifted my hatchet into my other hand and slammed it into the mother spider’s top pincer, hacking it wildly until it was half dangling from her face. She howled and dropped me. I landed on my back, my body aching even though it was freed. The mother spider took another step toward me, and I knew I wouldn’t escape in time.

A shotgun boomed on my left, the blast hitting the mother spider in the side of the face. She screeched and turned to the person who had shot her.

Warrick.

His face was hard with determination. He never blinked when he fired a second blast into the mother spider’s face. She recoiled and started backing away. He swiftly reloaded the shotgun and kept shooting her in the head. Something moved out of the corner of my eye, making me jump. But it was just Max trying to help me up. He was covered in cobwebs, black blood, and scratches. He had gotten it easy.

“I take it back,” he said. “Spiders are fucking scary.”