The forest had gone unnaturally still.
Only the crunch of boots and the creak of carriage wheels echoed in the gloom as twilight melted into night. Mist slithered across the dirt path, curling around the trees like pale fingers.
Oliver felt it before he saw it — a faint vibration in the air, like the tremor of something huge moving beneath the soil. The horses neighed and thrashed, eyes rolling white.
"Hold the line!" Ronald barked from the front, sword drawn, his voice firm even as unease rippled through the knights.
Then it appeared.
A wet, tearing sound split the silence as something burst through the canopy — a spider the size of a wagon, its body glistening dark purple under the moonlight. Eight glossy eyes reflected the torchlight like shards of glass. Its legs — thick, jointed, and barbed — dug into the ground with sickening cracks. Each step left deep holes in the earth.
