Whistles sounded outside. By the sound of things, more prisoners tried to make a break for it. The kicks and body slams to the door stopped again. They must’ve figured out I was trapped by the door and therefore couldn’t reach any of the weapons. Speaking of weapons, I rifled through one of the crates holding the door closed.

I kept one eye on the spider, and one on the weapons. Wait...Something was happening to me and the feral arachnid. She seemed even more vibrant after devouring her prey. I saw the mercurial, chameleon-like change and couldn't deny it. Her hue was no longer pitch-black but mostly brown with dark brown stripes. I felt some relief to my hunger, some of my fatigue fading as well. Could it be the link?

The mysterious purple smoke pulsed and stayed low, coming from the corner opposite of the spider, in the back. Four decorated staves stood upright in the corner along with one on the ground in the same corner as the source of the purple smoke. What was the source of the smoke?

The spider seemed repulsed by this gaseous fume. She shed her outer exoskeleton while crawling away, showing the brownish furry underbelly as she scampered up the wall. Another pulse of fumes and Spiderzilla lost her grip on the ceiling. The spider suspended from a single strand, the sudden drop causing it to rock back and forth. Spiderzilla hissed, pained. The connection between us held and I clutched at my head that was about to burst.

I needed out of this nightmare. Still pained, my jaw tightened and I gripped a nearby knife tightly. What would happen if I stabbed the monster? Would I feel the same amount of pain too? Is she reading my mind? I looked at the twitching spider legs. I shook my head and frowned. As much as I dreaded spiders, I couldn’t help feeling sorry for the monster.

I dropped the knife, rubbed my temples, and rummaged through the crate some more.

This crate was a treasure chest of sparkling new and unused weapons. I grabbed a curved blade. There was a tangle of wires on the rounded knob on the end of the handle. Turning the butt towards me, I saw what it was. The wires covered a jewel in the shape of a skull, the gem’s purple peeking through the eye sockets.

Someone’s got awful taste in decorating. I put it aside.

I looked at the rest of the weapons. Was this some kind of weird fashion trend? Each weapon had a multi-faceted purple gem, wrapped with thin strands of metal. The spiral cages showed the work of different styles, each and every weapon unique. Some resembled a tree and its branches. Silver metal wires radiated rays like the sun, twinkled ripples, or a spiraled tornado. The gem and the surrounding metal were always encased in a thick clear coating. Ornamental knives and swords with scabbards, arm braces, and one adjustable chest plate. Wow. These must be worth a fortune. Don’t they need to store these somewhere safer?