Crawling Vision

The cell was cold and smelled faintly of damp stone and rust, covering him in this deep darkness that hid itself in the furthest halls of this Naikaia. Haruki had long lost track of how many hours had passed, or perhaps it had already been several days. The single window high above the door let in only the thinnest sliver of daylight, which crawled slowly across the floor before sinking into dim moonlight.

At first, he’d shouted. He’d pounded on the iron bars and yelled for anyone – for Deacon Loto, the guards, and even Kiera. His voice had carried down the hallway, echoing off the stone in a way that made him feel smaller with each cry.

“What the hell? You were supposed to help me get home. Loto! Hello?”

No one came.

The guards never answered. They only passed by from time to time, their boots scraping against the stone, the faint jingle of keys teasing him as they moved on without so much as a glance into his cell.

Eventually, his shouting became more half-hearted. Or maybe it had always been unenthusiastic from the very beginning, from the first moment he was thrown into this cell. He leaned against the wall, resting his head on his knees, and his voice continued on – quieter, almost lazy in its desperation.

“Anyone? Hello? Dang it… come on…”

His words fell flat, swallowed by the empty corridor.

By nightfall, the silence was suffocating. The city outside must have been alive, lanterns lit, patrols circling the streets. But none of it reached down here. He was utterly cut off. It was as if he were in a bubble.

Haruki sat slouched against the cold wall, his eyes unfocused as they wandered over the dim dungeon corridor. A single torch burned opposite his cell, fixed into an iron bracket. Its light flickered lazily, throwing long shadows across the stone floor. He’d been staring at it for so long that the flames no longer felt real.

They swayed like liquid, pouring from some stream far above.

At first, it was just something to do, something to pass the time in this suffocating silence. But the longer he watched, the more the fire seemed to tug at him.

There was something about the way the flames danced that made his skin crawl. He had felt this sensation before. He couldn’t recognize it at first, but as minutes went by, he realized:

This was the same sensation he felt when he got his first vision.

His breath began slowing to a halt, but he was still alive. Yet the dungeon seemed to fade around him. The shadows deepened, stretching unnaturally along the floor as if they were being drawn toward him. The flicker of the torchlight sharpened, filling his vision until the world around him melted away.

And in the next heartbeat, he wasn’t in the cell anymore.

The Naikaia rose before him, bathed in moonlight, its tall spires gleaming faintly in the dark. For a moment, the city around it seemed serene. Guard towers loomed at the edges of his vision, their torches flickering, the walls standing tall and imposing against the night sky.

This felt like the same courtyard he saw outside this local Naikaia. But when this was supposed to be, he had no idea.

Then, without warning, a spider appeared.

It seemed so familiar, just like the one that attacked that one couple. Larger than a wagon, even more bloated than before, crawling with bristling hairs that shimmered unnaturally in the moonlight. It skittered forward with grotesque grace, not from the shadows or through the gates, but simply… there. As if it had been willed into existence in the center of the courtyard.

A chill went down Haruki’s spine as three Deacons burst through the great doors of the Naikaia, their robes flowing behind them, voices raised in prayer as they formed a triangle around the monstrosity. The air shimmered with their power.

But the power of the spider was vast.

It began to convulse, limbs twisting unnaturally as its body warped, reshaping itself.

A wet, tearing sound filled Haruki’s ears. The spider’s upper half split open, peeling back like an unholy blooming flower. And from it rose a lean, ghoul-like torso. Its skin was pale and sickly gray, clinging tightly to the contours of its bones, yet its limbs were long and sinuous, almost elegant in their wrongness. Its lower half remained that of the spider, massive and dripping with venom.

The creature’s mouth split into a grin full of jagged teeth, and glowing runes ignited across its body – dark symbols that writhed like living things, crawling up its arms, twisting around its torso, pulsing with malevolent energy.

Haruki didn’t know why, but his gut feeling growled from within. Telling him of a simple truth that he could hardly comprehend or accept:

This was no beast – this was a Wizard.

The realization echoed in his mind, loud enough that he nearly flinched. His body felt locked in place, his vision sharpened unnaturally, as if some unseen force demanded he witness every detail of this creature’s presence.

As the Deacons raised their powers and erupted the courtyard in a flash of light…

Haruki blinked himself back into his cell. His heart was pounding, and his forehead was sweating. But the air smelled like the moldy damp stone walls once more. The dungeon was quiet. Too quiet.

But the silence did not last.

A muffled shout pierced the dungeon’s stillness, followed by the distant clash of steel and the sharp crack of something that wasn’t steel at all. Haruki froze, his pulse quickening. More sounds followed – a shrill cry now. As well as the heavy boom of magicks slamming against stone, the unmistakable sound of chaos erupting just outside.

He scrambled to his feet and stumbled toward the window. It was little more than a narrow slit in the wall with rusted bars hammered into place. Pressing his face against the cold stone, he peered out into the courtyard below.

His stomach immediately turned the moment he saw what was happening.

What he foresaw mere moments ago.

That giant spider, just as he had seen it, skittered into view, its legs clattering against the courtyard’s cobblestones with a metallic clink, like spearheads striking stone. Soon – the monster unfurled his body, the sickly pale torso of a ghoul bursting out of the bloated abdomen. Runes crawled all over the body of that Wizard like living tattoos.

Three figures stood between the creature and the Naikaia’s doors, their white-and-gold robes gleaming under the moonlight. Haruki recognized one of them instantly – Deacon Loto, with his hat unmistakable even in the dark.

His glowing fingertip blazed like a miniature sun, and in one sharp motion, he fired a beam of light that tore through the night sky, striking the monster’s shoulder. The impact sent sparks and shards of skin and ooze scattering. But the Wizard barely staggered, twisting its body with an insect’s unnerving fluidity.

Another Deacon raised a gleaming staff, chanting under his breath as a barrier made out of tree trunks and roots flared to life out of the ground, coming from all around the courtyard to form his defense.

The third Deacon followed suit, launching a volley of ice balls that traveled way too fast for Haruki to keep track of. Slicing the air with cold razors he could feel all the way from his cell.

And yet the Spider Wizard crawled around the stone walls and ground faster than even those projectiles. Skillfully evading their cold deadly touch.

The Wizard then thrust one of its grotesque, barbed legs into the ground – instantly, a dark oval yawned open beneath it.

It was a portal of some kind. Swirling with foul green light. In an instant, a second portal ripped open beneath the nearest Deacon, and that same leg erupted upward, striking like a spear from below. The Deacon leapt back just in time, robes tearing as the barbed spike grazed his side.

More portals opened in a flash, dotting the courtyard floor like a spider’s web. The Wizard’s legs stabbed through them with blinding speed, striking from impossible angles, forcing the Deacons into a frantic dance of dodges and counterattacks. The air was filled with the shriek of magic colliding with the vulgar scent of the creature’s skin. Bursts of light and flame endlessly scattering shadows across the stone walls.

From his cell window, Haruki gripped the bars so tightly his knuckles whitened. The fight below looked like something out of a nightmare. A battle between mortals and a creature that shouldn’t exist. And yet, he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

The Wizard moved with an intelligence that chilled him to the bone. Its runes pulsed faintly each time it attacked, as if the very magic sustaining it was alive. Its face twisted into something resembling a grin as it vanished into one of its own portals, only to reappear behind Loto, stabbing two legs down at once.

The Deacon spun with shocking speed, a burst of light erupting from his fingertip and striking one leg mid-air, shattering it in a spray of ichor.

Still, the Wizard didn’t slow. It hissed, a sound that rattled the barred window like a cold wind, and began to weave its portals faster, the courtyard flickering with unnatural light.

Haruki stumbled back from the barred window as a thunderous crack split the night. The earth quaked beneath his feet, dust shaking loose from the ceiling of the cell. Shouts erupted outside, frantic and sharp, and the clash of steel and magic kept on vibrating through the stone halls.

He rushed back to the bars, gripping them so tightly his knuckles ached.

“Guys? Guards! Please, let me out of here!” he yelled, his voice cracking.

No response came, only the chorus of chaotic shouting from the soldiers ignoring those deeper in the dungeon. A screech unlike anything Haruki had ever heard pierced the air, setting his teeth on edge.

Without warning, the wall beside him exploded inward.

A single monstrous limb, long and jointed and ending in a hooked spike, burst through the masonry like paper. Rubble flew in all directions, raining on Haruki’s face as he shielded himself. He could hear guards screaming on the other side, some cries were cut short with bone-snapping finality. Another limb stabbed down from the ceiling above the hallway, dragging debris and bodies with it.

“Somebody! Open this door!” he roared, his fists slamming against the bars.

But the only answer was the sound of splintering stone and the echo of men dying, swallowed by the chilling laughter of the Spider Wizard.