Goonhub
Yesterday, 10:50 AM
(This post was last modified: Yesterday, 10:53 AM by SonOfAShepherd. Edited 1 time in total.)
There once was a Spider, pulled into the world due to no fault of its own. To all, it offered what it could give: a venomous embrace and a swift end. But Spider's mother had not sought a reaper, so one day laid it down in the brush of innocence and spoke unto it:
"Gentle," to its hands. But they held no gentleness.
"Understand," to its mind. But it had no understanding.
"Kind," to its heart. But it knew no kindness.
Thusly did the mother unbind the Spider from her webs. Cast down was the Spider from its home. Down was its spiral, into a cruel and unforgiving world that matched the very venom it was made to inflict. A world filled with monsters and malevolence far greater than a mere Spider could outlast.
But where Spider lacked size and strength, she boasted of wit and cunning. She weaved webs so elaborate of design, even the mightiest creature may find itself in their unholy embrace. It was in this that she found her purpose: Spider would weave the grandest web -- a design so brilliant, all might know her for what she was. One so intricate, even Spider might live in peace. To know no hunger, no regret, and no pity.
Yet webs take dutiful time to spin, and the world knows no patience. Spider found herself beset by hazard and competition. How, then, could she enact her designs? How, then, could she persist in a world that did not want her to exist?
To that end, Spider would weave another web; one of a ragged and cruel design. A design so foul it might call forth a creature both wretched and vile, so that the forests and hills and mountains would turn their gaze away.
And the beast did come.
Where it walked, ruins in its footsteps. Where it lay, ashes beneath its corpse. Where it looked, hunger within its eyes.
And when it spoke, its voice chittered with a laughter born of malice.
"GRANT ME SUSTENANCE! GRANT ME ICHOR!" harries the Hound.
"Know this," Spider assured, "my webs are vast. There will be no shortage of prey nor wanting for game."
"GRANT ME FINALITY! GRANT ME DEATH!" bellows the Beast.
"Know this," Spider promised, "my bounty is limitless. There will be no shortage of the hunt nor limit to your merriment."
"YOUR WEBS I'LL WALK AND YOUR LIVES I'LL REAP. YOUR SILENCE I'LL BREAK AND YOUR WONDERS I'LL TAKE. SLAKED IN CRIMSON AND BOUND BY BEREAVEMENT."
To the bird he offered skyless ground, so it might know imprisonment.
To the wolf he offered piercing solitude, so it might know loss.
To the rabbit he offered salted burrows, so it might know no shelter.
To all, he would grant none. To none would he grant all. This was his pact -- this was his price. All, even Spider, must pay.
But Spider was clever in her payments. To each end of her forest, she would weave webs that Hound could not contemplate. With each broken strand of silk, Hound would further entwine himself.
Yet Hound was relentless in his hunting. To each bitter end, he would pursue hunger that Spider could not understand. With each horrendous new dawn, Spider would further drown herself in shadow to avoid him.
And so went their dance, never ending and never slowing. One Spider pursuing a beginning. One Hound chasing the end.
"Mutt," Agent Latrotoxin called out, her tone impatient and her eyes exhausted. She needed space. She needed time. And he wasn't given her much of either. "I have a job for you."
"OH YEAH?" Operative Hyena sneered, his smile derisive and his strength renewed. He needed entertainment. He needed a fight. And she wasn't giving him much of either. "BOUT TIME, PRINCESS."
It would take him far away, and with any luck it would take him a while. More bodies for the pyre. More grease for the machine. More drops in an ocean of blood.
She could only hope it was enough. He could only hope it wasn't.
"Gentle," to its hands. But they held no gentleness.
"Understand," to its mind. But it had no understanding.
"Kind," to its heart. But it knew no kindness.
Thusly did the mother unbind the Spider from her webs. Cast down was the Spider from its home. Down was its spiral, into a cruel and unforgiving world that matched the very venom it was made to inflict. A world filled with monsters and malevolence far greater than a mere Spider could outlast.
But where Spider lacked size and strength, she boasted of wit and cunning. She weaved webs so elaborate of design, even the mightiest creature may find itself in their unholy embrace. It was in this that she found her purpose: Spider would weave the grandest web -- a design so brilliant, all might know her for what she was. One so intricate, even Spider might live in peace. To know no hunger, no regret, and no pity.
Yet webs take dutiful time to spin, and the world knows no patience. Spider found herself beset by hazard and competition. How, then, could she enact her designs? How, then, could she persist in a world that did not want her to exist?
To that end, Spider would weave another web; one of a ragged and cruel design. A design so foul it might call forth a creature both wretched and vile, so that the forests and hills and mountains would turn their gaze away.
And the beast did come.
Where it walked, ruins in its footsteps. Where it lay, ashes beneath its corpse. Where it looked, hunger within its eyes.
And when it spoke, its voice chittered with a laughter born of malice.
"GRANT ME SUSTENANCE! GRANT ME ICHOR!" harries the Hound.
"Know this," Spider assured, "my webs are vast. There will be no shortage of prey nor wanting for game."
"GRANT ME FINALITY! GRANT ME DEATH!" bellows the Beast.
"Know this," Spider promised, "my bounty is limitless. There will be no shortage of the hunt nor limit to your merriment."
"YOUR WEBS I'LL WALK AND YOUR LIVES I'LL REAP. YOUR SILENCE I'LL BREAK AND YOUR WONDERS I'LL TAKE. SLAKED IN CRIMSON AND BOUND BY BEREAVEMENT."
To the bird he offered skyless ground, so it might know imprisonment.
To the wolf he offered piercing solitude, so it might know loss.
To the rabbit he offered salted burrows, so it might know no shelter.
To all, he would grant none. To none would he grant all. This was his pact -- this was his price. All, even Spider, must pay.
But Spider was clever in her payments. To each end of her forest, she would weave webs that Hound could not contemplate. With each broken strand of silk, Hound would further entwine himself.
Yet Hound was relentless in his hunting. To each bitter end, he would pursue hunger that Spider could not understand. With each horrendous new dawn, Spider would further drown herself in shadow to avoid him.
And so went their dance, never ending and never slowing. One Spider pursuing a beginning. One Hound chasing the end.
"Mutt," Agent Latrotoxin called out, her tone impatient and her eyes exhausted. She needed space. She needed time. And he wasn't given her much of either. "I have a job for you."
"OH YEAH?" Operative Hyena sneered, his smile derisive and his strength renewed. He needed entertainment. He needed a fight. And she wasn't giving him much of either. "BOUT TIME, PRINCESS."
It would take him far away, and with any luck it would take him a while. More bodies for the pyre. More grease for the machine. More drops in an ocean of blood.
She could only hope it was enough. He could only hope it wasn't.