Bud thrashed beneath it, the creature pinning him down, its weight pressing into his chest as its mandibles snapped toward his face.
Then—
A sharp flash.
Steel cut through the dim light.
The pressure vanished.
For a split second, Bud didn't understand what had happened. The weight on him shifted, then slackened completely. Something rolled off his chest and hit the tile beside him with a wet thud.
The flashlight beam, still spinning weakly on the floor, caught it.
The spider's head lay a few feet away, separated cleanly, its legs twitching erratically before going still.
Bud sucked in a breath, coughing as he shoved the body off himself and scrambled backward. "Jesus—Jesus—!"
He pushed himself up to his feet, hands shaking as he slapped at his shirt, trying to wipe off the dark fluid smeared across it.
"Get it off—get it off—" he muttered, even though it was already gone.
The light steadied.
It pointed straight ahead.
Henry stood there in the doorway, katana lowered slightly, the blade still faintly glowing blue.
Bud looked at him, still catching his breath.
"…You—" he swallowed, running a hand over his face. "You got it… you got it."
Henry glanced once at the twitching remains on the floor, then back at Bud.
"You're fine," he said, voice calm. "It didn't get a bite in."
Bud nodded quickly, though his hands were still shaking. "Yeah… yeah… I'm—"
He stopped, staring at the blood smeared across his shirt, then at the severed thing on the floor.
Then—
A scream tore through the store.
Another followed.
Henry's head snapped toward the sound, and he was already moving before Bud could say anything.
They burst out of the restroom.
Chaos.
Spiders—dozens of them—crawling over shelves, dropping from the ceiling, skittering across the floor with sharp, clicking legs.
Some clung to walls, others leapt, strands of web shooting out and sticking to people as they tried to run.
"GET THEM OFF—GET THEM OFF ME—!"
"DON'T LET THEM BITE—!"
"HELP—!"
A man stumbled, tangled in webbing, and a spider dropped straight onto his chest. He screamed as it lunged for his face.
Henry didn't slow.
"Well… this turned into a mess," he muttered, already moving through the chaos.
A spider dropped from the side—he stepped in and cut it mid-air, the blade slicing clean as the body dropped. Another came from above—he pivoted, bringing the sword up in a sharp arc, splitting it before it could land.
"Stay together!" he shouted. "Don't run blind—!"
But panic had already spread.
People shoved past each other, some slipping on the floor, others getting caught in strands of web stretching between shelves.
Then—
"Henry!"
Madison's voice.
He turned.
At the far end of the store, she was down, tangled in thick webbing, multiple spiders crawling over her, closing in.
"Shit—"
Henry moved.
Fast.
"Madison—I order you to stand up and run toward me!" he shouted.
She tried to push herself up, panic flooding her voice. "I— I can't—!"
Then her body moved.
Not by choice.
Her muscles responded instantly, snapping into motion as she tore herself upright, stumbling forward as the web strained and broke.
"What—how did my—?!"
"Later!" Henry cut in.
He reached her in seconds, the blade flashing as he sliced through the remaining webbing and cut down the spiders closing in on her. One darted for her shoulder—he stepped in and drove the blade straight through it before it could make contact.
"Stay behind me," he said sharply. "Don't stop moving."
More came.
From the sides.
From above.
Henry stepped forward, fully focused now, the faint blue glow along the blade sharpening as he moved.
"Back up—keep back!" he ordered, pushing the line away from the center.
Jim swung wildly at one crawling toward him, barely knocking it aside before Henry stepped in and finished it.
"Watch your sides!" Henry snapped.
Bud grabbed a broken handle and smashed one against the floor, breathing hard. "There's too many—!"
"Then don't freeze!" Henry shot back, cutting another down.
The store echoed with screams, the sound of bodies hitting the ground, webs snapping tight, and the wet, sickening noise of something biting through flesh.
In less than five minutes, it was over.
The last spider twitched on the floor before going still, its legs curling inward as silence slowly crept back into the store.
The frantic movement, the screams, the chaos—it all faded, leaving behind only heavy breathing and the faint dripping of something onto the tiles.
Henry lowered his blade slightly, his eyes still scanning out of habit, making sure nothing else was moving.
But the cost was there.
Five bodies.
They lay where they had fallen, the attack too sudden, too fast for them to react. No one spoke as people began to notice, one by one, what had been left behind.
A woman covered her mouth, backing away.
Someone else turned their head, unable to look.
The fear that had been held together through the night began to crack under the weight of it.
People started to sit down slowly, some where they stood, others leaning against shelves, their strength giving out now that the immediate threat was gone. A few began whispering, voices low and uneven, while others stayed completely silent, staring at nothing.
David stood still for a moment, then ran a hand over his face, trying to steady himself.
"This… this is getting worse," David said quietly.
No one answered him, but the silence around him said enough.
As the number of dead rose, something else had started to spread among the people. Not panic—that had already come and gone—but a quieter, more dangerous fear.
The kind that made people think ahead in the worst way possible. That maybe they would be next. That maybe survival wasn't about staying together anymore.
That maybe someone else should be the one who dies.
Henry watched their faces and understood it clearly. Fear like that didn't stay contained. It twisted people, made them think in ways they normally wouldn't.
If it kept building—
it wouldn't be the monsters outside that killed them.
"We have to leave the store," Henry said. "Staying here isn't safe anymore. If tonight is worse than this… we won't hold it."
A few people looked at him, uncertain, some hopeful, others already shaking their heads.
Ollie stepped forward after a moment, like he had been waiting for a chance to speak.
"I… I might have a way."
Henry turned toward him. "What way?"
"There's a transport truck at the back of the store," Ollie said, pointing vaguely toward the rear section. "It was supposed to leave before all this started. It's empty… or at least it should be. If it's still there, we might be able to use it."
*****
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