The carnivean had to know she already lost. Perhaps something in her contract prevented her from fleeing or just ending it herself.
Not that Arachne wanted her to. But she was starting to get worried. Her Eva hadn’t joined against the carnivean, yet was taking far too long against the jezebeth.
Arachne had fought one in the past. Annoying, for sure, but mostly harmless. They’d pop like a balloon if anyone even looked at one funny.
No time to think about that. Arachne had to jump out of the way as the tentacle tried to latch onto one of her legs.
The few strands holding her claw to her arm snapped as Arachne jumped. She grabbed the claw out of mid-air, twisted, and threw the claw.
It caught the carnivean straight in the face. If her fingers hadn’t curled back in flight, it would have stuck.
As it was, the carnivean merely stumbled back.
Stumbling would have to do.
Arachne charged forwards. Two of her legs plunged into the carnivean’s. They split downwards from mid-thigh to knee. Black blood, muscles, and fat all spilled out onto the floor.
Another two legs similarly sheared the demon’s arms.
She was too slow to pin down the tentacle.
It lanced forwards, gripping tightly around Arachne’s throat.
And started constricting.
She could feel cracks forming in her carapace under the pressure.
Arachne’s remaining arm swung out at the tentacle–almost of its own volition.
Her sharp fingers completely severed it from the carnivean’s head. She quickly raked her fingers against her own throat. She couldn’t risk it having any kind of mental connection to the creature and continuing squeezing.
The pieces fell away to the ground with a slop.
“I believe the humans would say ‘checkmate’ at this point,” Arachne said with a laugh.
The carnivean’s eyes burned a bright red as she glared into Arachne’s eyes. “Just end it.” Her deep voice laced hate into each syllable.
Arachne was about to oblige. She wanted to. Crushing the stupid, weak demon’s head with her sole remaining claw would be nothing short of euphoric.
Staring into the demon’s glowing eyes gave Arachne another idea.
“How human-like are your eyes?”
Anger bled away to confusion for the briefest of instants before the carnivean’s face twisted into a scowl. “What?”
“I might be convinced to let you go. You’re in a sorry state, but even if I were to tear off all your limbs, it has to be better than the oblivion of Void.”
A shudder traveled up Arachne’s legs from the pinned demon.
Arachne grinned. She had her now.
“What do you want?”
“Your eyes. They’re human enough, despite the slit pupil and red iris. They’re around the right size too. Though, if my claws and legs are any indication, size won’t matter after a while.”
The demon glanced between all eight of Arachne’s eyes.
Searching for deception?
She better search well.
“You cut my eyes out and you will let me go?”
Hope glimmered in the carnivean’s eyes. Arachne had to keep herself from bursting out laughing. She’d be taking the eyes one way or another. Now that the idea was in her head, she couldn’t let it go.
The only difference was the level of willingness from her captive. If she struggled, Arachne might end up damaging the eyes. Small nicks might be able to heal, but anything big would ruin the eyes. That wouldn’t serve any purpose aside from unnecessary torture.
Not that Arachne took issue with unnecessary torture.
Rather than answer the demon, Arachne moved one of her sharp fingers right next to the demon’s face.
She inched it closer.
Slowly.
Closer.
Arachne would slice her eyelid if the carnivean so much as blinked.
She slid her needle-like finger up and around the eyeball. It was a tight squeeze, she was sure part of it was damaged. Arachne tried to put most of the force onto the surrounding skin and bone. Black blood stained the eye as it dripped down.
To her credit, the carnivean did not scream or even wiggle. It made Arachne’s job far easier.
After a scant few seconds that hopefully felt like forever to the carnivean, Arachne felt her finger cut away at enough connecting material. The glow in the eye dimmed as it started flopping freely around the demon’s eye socket.
Arachne tried to gently nudge it out of the socket. It wasn’t working. Too much resistance.
How to get it out without slicing it in two? Well, the easy answer would be to cut off the carnivean’s face. She might protest that.
So, other eye first.
Arachne carefully withdrew her finger and positioned it in front of the carnivean’s other eye. She repeated the action of severing the eye from the demon.
“Excellent job,” Arachne said. “Still need to get the eyes out. Keep holding still for just a moment.”
The demon didn’t respond. Had her eyes not been rolled back in her head at the moment, she might have tried an intimidating glare.
As it was, Arachne had to suppress another bought of laughter.
She started cutting away bone and skin. Far less carefully.
Once the hole was wide enough for the eyes fit through with plenty of extra space, Arachne tipped the demon’s head forwards. Both eyes rolled out onto her waiting palm.
It wasn’t often that Arachne needed pockets. If she needed something carried, she would simply bring a bag. With no bag and a whole arm missing, Arachne found herself suddenly in need of them now.
She popped both eyes into her mouth, taking care to avoid biting, crushing, or accidentally swallowing them.
“You have them right? Let me go. That was our agreement.”
Almost forgot.
Arachne’s hand jutted forwards and gripped the carnivean’s face. Two fingers went through each eye socket. She shoved her thumb down the demon’s throat.
The screams were music to Arachne’s ears.
Holding her head like a bowling ball, Arachne closed her grip.
The carnivean’s face crushed to a pulp beneath her might. Demon of strength? Ha.
Without her hand as support, the little tentacle monster collapsed to the ground. The pulpy mess of her face squished beneath one of Arachne’s legs.
The remains of the carnivean dissolved into the ground.
Arachne spat the eyes back into her hand. She almost swallowed them as she tried to laugh. The mouth was clearly a terrible storage spot.
“Ah, sorry. I lied.”
Eyes safely in her hand, Arachne threw her head back and laughed.
As the last of her glee slowly left her system, Arachne remembered her missing master.
But first, time to find some containers.
Arachne returned to her human form as she moved to the kitchen. She kept all her remaining legs extended, but walking around as a human inside a human habitation was far more convenient. She could destroy more walls in her full size, but the building might not hold up long enough.
She just needed to find a hard sided container that wasn’t too melted. Most seemed to be resistant to heat. She dropped the eyes in the first one she found.
Lids seemed harder to find, but Arachne didn’t need it to be perfect. The one she chose didn’t snap shut, but it was close enough.
Eyes safely tucked in the crook of her damaged arm, Arachne headed out of the kitchen to find her absent master.
Arachne stepped out of the husk of a home. The first thing to catch her eye was the narrow pillar of fire stretching towards the clouds. Despite its height, it failed to waver in the light breeze. No part of it so much as burned the grass of the yard.
That did not stop it from putting out enough heat for Arachne to feel mildly uncomfortable in its presence.
It took Arachne a moment to tear her eyes towards the small bubble just a few steps away. Her master–her Eva–lay on her back in the shadow of the flame pillar. The blood shield protected her from any detrimental effects of the heat.
Blood spilled from her mouth. Her own dagger stuck straight out of her chest.