They managed to see the outer side of the hole thanks to the sun. It was made of nothing but soil. The hole sloped downward, and they couldn’t see what was inside. They hid behind a tree to see what would happen for the time being.

“The trail stops here, Roy. Does that mean my son is in that hole?” Huckle gulped, his fingers twiddling. Nervously, he asked, “What is this hole? Did an anteater or mole dig it?”

“They can’t make one that big.” Roy stared at the hole, thinking about the possible monsters that could have dug it. “And Berschel was dragged a mile. Either it’s a really big monster, or there are a dozen in there.”

Huckle realized he got it wrong. “Berschel is six feet tall and weighs over a hundred and seventy-six pounds. He’s a sturdy boy. Not anyone could drag him like a ragdoll.”

“That’s right.” Roy didn’t charge ahead in case there was something inside that could kill him. “Put on your thinking cap. What kind of creature can drag him all the way from the river and leave little to no trace?”

“Boars?” Huckle looked concerned. “I get a lot of customers complaining about the boar problem in the fields every year.”

“Boars wouldn’t usually drag an adult human that far, and it’d have to take Berschel out in the process.” Roy shook his head. “It has to kill or at least incapacitate its prey first. We didn’t see a lot of blood on our way here, nor did the victim show any signs of struggle. That’s really odd.”

Huckle’s face twitched as he thought about a more dangerous predator that could have taken his son away. “What if it’s a bear? What if he ran into a bear?” Even though it was winter, not every bear would hibernate. Some that didn’t store enough fat would hunt.

“Same deal. If it was a bear, there would have been more of a struggle and more blood along the way.” Roy looked at the hole again. “Look at the turnips. Then compare it to the hole. The hole’s just around half an adult’s height. There’s no way any bears could live there.”

“What is it, then?” Huckle covered his face in despair. “What would hunt humans? We can’t take it slow anymore.” Huckle stood up, his eyes filled with resolve. “I can feel that he’s still alive. He’s waiting for me.”

“You don’t even have a weapon. How are you supposed to fight the thing inside?” Roy pulled him down. “Forget saving your son. If you charge in there without a plan, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I was blessed with Berschel when I was thirty. His mother eloped with someone else after she gave birth to him.” Huckle was panicking. “I raised him alone. If he dies, then I’ll take my own life.”

“Listen to me. I have a plan.” Roy’s eyes gleamed. Since he wasn’t sure if the victim was alive, he couldn’t throw any bombs inside to lure the monsters out. Nor could he smoke them, or he’d kill the victim. But since that monster left its den to drag Berschel back, it was a hunter. And hunters hunted. Even green dragons would get baited by a poisoned goat, let alone something like this.

“Get a chicken or a duck, Huckle. And make it quick. See if you can buy one from the people nearby.”

“You’re trying to bait it?” Huckle was stunned, then he realized what Roy was doing. “But will it work?”

“We won’t know unless we try. Get a chicken or a duck. Anything works.” Roy reminded, “And keep its mouth shut. We don’t want to bait it until the time is right.”

***

Half an hour later, Huckle came back with a big, glossy rooster. Its beak was tied up, so it couldn’t caw. Since Huckle held its wings tightly, it couldn’t struggle either. On the other hand, Roy had already applied poison to his weapons.

“What now?”

“Now, we wait. Don’t make a sound.” Roy took the rooster and caressed it. “Sorry, but you have to die so we can save someone.” Then Roy slathered it with half a dose of paralyzing poison before force-feeding the rest by prying the rooster’s beak open. Finally, he made a cut on the comb and let it bleed before tossing it to the hole.

The rooster crowed the moment it landed and jumped around the turnips, but a few moments later, the poison started taking effect. The rooster started wobbling dumbly. Huckle and Roy were still hiding behind the tree, slowing down their breaths. They stared at the rooster unblinkingly, waiting for their quarry to appear.

Nothing happened for a while after the rooster collapsed, but eventually, something shot out from the hole. It was as big as a calf and was covered in black fur. The creature looked like a fusion between a fly and a spider, but it had no wings. It had two red eyes on its ugly head and a pair of legs on each side of its torso. Roy thought the monster could probably leap far ahead with those legs, for they were not unlike springs. It also had a pair of short, sharp pincers under its head that gleamed under the sun.

The monster shot out a ball of white goo at the rooster, covering and turning it into a white ball. Then it scuttled back into its den with the rooster in tow. The description took more than one paragraph, but the monster actually finished its hunt in a mere moment. Even so, Roy managed to get its info in that split second.

‘Arachnomorph

Age: Two years old

HP: 80 ↓ (Weakened)

Strength: 6 ↓ 

Dexterity: 8 ↓ 

Constitution: 8 ↓ 

Perception: 6 ↓ 

Will: 4 ↓ 

Charisma: 4

Spirit: 5

Skills:

Web Shoot Level 1 ↓ : Arachnomorphs can shoot a blob of sticky web from far away. Its web is sturdier than normal rope and is extremely sticky. Normal humans will find it hard to break free.

Lunge Level 1 ↓ : Arachnomorphs can store their energy for one second and leap forty feet ahead, lunging at its prey.

Corrosive Venom Level 1 ↓ : Arachnomorphs can inject an extremely corrosive venom in its prey using its incisors, turning everything into liquid before consuming it.

Spawning Level 1 ↓ : Arachnomorphs do not lay eggs outside when the temperature is low. Instead, they’ll inject their larvae into strong captives, turning them into a nest for their young to grow.’

***

“Arachnomorphs, huh? So that’s their cobweb.” Roy finally understood what was going on. “So that’s why there wasn’t much blood. The prey’s covered.”

And then Roy realized someone was struggling, so he snapped out of it and let Huckle go. He’d been covering the baker’s mouth since earlier. “Sorry. That must have hurt.”

Huckle patted his chest and heaved a sigh. “I almost thought you wanted to kill me, Mr. Roy.” His face turned back to normal. “What was that anyway?” he whispered, but his eyes were on the hole. “Was that the child of a fly and a big spider?” Huckle was fearful. “I’ve never seen something like that my whole life. It’s scarier than a drowner.”

“It’s an arachnomorph, or you can call it a monstrous spider. It’s a dangerous one.” Roy wondered if he should retreat. Arachnomorphs were hard to deal with, so he would have run away if the creature was in top condition. But it’s weakened. Its stats are lowered too. If I make the necessary preparations, I think I can take it. But there’s one problem. Arachnomorphs come in groups and breed like rabbits. They hunt together, so there might be a lot of them there.

“Do you think my son is still alive, Mr. Roy?” Huckle was circling the place in panic. “How should we deal with that?”

“Does Berschel fish frequently?” Roy asked.

“Once every two weeks,” Huckle said firmly. “It’s been going on for years, so I know I’m right.”

“What lies in the south of Wigan?”

“A vast swamp, filled with poisonous bugs and venomous snakes. Nobody goes there.”

So this arachnomorph probably came from that swamp and got weakened for some reason. If it hasn’t laid eggs and is living alone…

“He’s probably still alive.” Roy didn’t want to lie. “Arachnomorphs wouldn’t kill their prey outright. They’d first turn them into human soup before slurping them up. He’s probably out cold inside.” Of course, if worse comes to worst, Berschel might have been injected with the monster’s larvae.

“Charging in without a plan is suicide. We need a trap. A bigger one. One that can take them all out in one go. Or at least most of them.”

Roy had a nice plan going, but he underestimated a father’s love for his child. The moment he finished explaining how the monster hunted, Huckle broke down. The thought that his child could have been turned into human soup drove him mad, and he charged toward the hole, roaring to the heavens.