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work their metal as easily as I mold flesh. But I smell souls
beneath their steely corpses, and while it’s a bit trickier than
skin, I’ve been known to spin a soul or two into the tapestry
of my webs.” Regrettably, the creature’s words camouflaged
the advance of its gigantic stinger.
I felt the monster’s venom course through me as my heart
pumped liquid fire to my every extremity. The stinger itself
was more than adequate for tearing through my shoulder,
almost severing my arm in the process. The force of the
attack drove me from my place upon the creature’s shoulders
and into the grasp of a massive embroidery of spun skin. By
no means as placid as the silken works of a spider, the web
of flesh came to life at my touch, whispering its welcome
through hundreds of sewn-in mouths. “Come and suffer with
us,” the web of skin whispered.
Within moments, I was trapped in its weave, snug and
motionless. The lord of the tapestry, now taking no pains to
remain hidden, gathered its labyrinthine body above me. It
was a wonderfully horrible thing, made from a patchwork
of organic nightmare. It began to lower itself upon me as a
number of facial formations protruded from its giant body.
At least this explained why my father’s blow had proven
insufficient to killing the horror.
I had the feeling the creature had no immediate plans for
me, which would allow the deep silence of the underground
to mend my wounds. After a quick assessment of the
situation, I allowed the creature’s wicked and tentacled
extremities to seize me. It spun a fine casing of liquid skin all
around me, twirling me in the manner of a spider applying
its webbing. The strange liquescent pre-skin congealed upon
every rotation, and I chuckled at the tickling touch of the
trembling, lacey flesh. Finally, I was wrapped in a hearty
veil of solidified skin, replete with strong interwoven layers
of muscle tissue that flexed against my body, enhancing the
already strong grip the enclosure exercised upon me.

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