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Lucky Water
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>>1034316
>“Good question,” Jennifer growled, “maybe we can get some answers from them.”
>"So hey, I have no idea how to deal with these." She would say, gesturing with an innocent cat-like smile at the massive fangs
>"Or also with these." She would gesture to the wolf not-corpses, picking up the one who was all right with her hand.
"We should take them back to camp, and tie them up or something," Hazel suggests, "We can lock them in the back of the van. They aren't smashing out of the back in that state. You said they were talking, Jennifer? Then we question them when they wake up, and we can fact-check whatever they say in the library, or ask the ranger to confirm it."
>"Also, like, does anyone know what just happened? Since like, I died. I don't think it was normal dying though, since obviously I didn't. Or that most people get a choice to not die."
"Not a clue. I saw it happen. You still look dead to me," Hazel confirms, walking to Sarah to check her pulse, and doubting she'd find one. "Your life ended a minute ago. Did you become a vampire or zombie while I wasn't looking, Sarah? You were supposed to destroy the vampires, not join them!"
Hazel's laugh at her own joke catches in her throat. Her memes end here. The feeling that had been crawling up her spine for the last... minute? How long had it been? She felt like she'd been running for half an hour, but that couldn't be right. She watched the sunset while preparing food and drinking hot chocolate, and the sun set barely twenty minutes ago. The feeling of wrongness was crawling up her spine, pin-sharp legs sticking down her airways.
Hazel hacks hoarsely, her hand slipping from Sarah's throat to her shoulder, and something comes out. It's bright as emeralds, iridescent, and it's many legs dance gaily in the mixed violet and bruise-black of Hazel and Sarah's mixing auras. The joins between it's legs and body look like artifice, articulated on ball-joints, and it's main body's chitin is smooth like a river-stone. It's legs, too, look less like something living and exist more akin to a puppet's. It's less than palm-sized, its stretched legs reaching perhaps from the base to the tip of the thumb. It lands on Sarah's collarbone, just above her chest.
It's a spider, and it had been in Hazel's throat.
Hazel rips her hand away from Sarah in sudden motion, flinching away from it. Hazel is silent, but her breaths come out in loud and rapid pants. She steps away in quick, stumbling steps, eyes transfixed on the dancing spider, and kneels down to jam fingers down her neck, prodding, clawing as far down as she can reach, but pulls up nothing.
"What the fuck?" She whispers hoarsely, fingers out of her throat and prodding at her neck, eyes fixed on the spider. "Kill it!"
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