AltRealm Ch. 02

In a last ditch effort, the Orc roared and hurled her tree club at him. He heard it cracking through foliage and hurtling toward him at lethal velocity. With a final crack from overhead, he darted to the right, missing the impact of the club by less than a foot, and poured on as much speed as he could into the dense foliage. She was too far behind him now and out of sight. He cut right again and tore through the jungle. He cut left, then left again, changing his direction at random intervals until he finally heard the thundering footsteps behind him fade into nothingness.

He kept going at full tilt for what seemed like another couple of miles until he finally ran out of steam. Light-headed, throat and lungs in agony, legs shaky, tight, and numb, he ducked under the exposed roots of a large tree. He crawled on his butt as far back as he could go and sat, catching his heaving breath. He was dirty, sweaty, dehydrated, and this was his second day here without food. When his breathing slowed to something close to normal, all he heard was silence around him. No following footsteps, no Arterra to converse with, nothing. After 10 more minutes of deathly quiet, he even began to wish Myriana was around. After 30 minutes, he realized that he'd never felt so alone in his life.

This was different. Everything was different.

Tycho slowly emerged from his supposed safety and took stock of his surroundings. It was eerily quiet here. The trees and green seemed to close in even tighter around him. It was certainly more overgrown here. He whipped his head around to get his bearings, all senses on high alert in case he had to make another getaway. No danger he could sense but that didn't mean he was safe by any stretch.

Arterra was okay, she had to be. He fought the urge to call out to her. That would be stupid. Stupid would get him eaten. Apparently it wasn't just his chastity at stake here.

He found where he'd come from and slowly began to wander back. He stayed as silent as he could. Terri wasn't the only one interested in finding him. Not being a tracker in any sense of the word, he lost his own trail in short order.

"Fuck," he whispered.

He spent another stretch of time, god knew how long, trying to backtrack and pick up the trail but it was useless. After a while longer, he couldn't even figure out where the trail he kept backtracking to was anymore.

Feeling his stomach growl, he decided to try a different tact. If he kept himself occupied, he hoped the emotions in him wouldn't overwhelm him. One thing at a time. He picked a rough direction of where he thought that stream he passed earlier might be and set off. Stream meant water, which he desperately needed. And water meant potential food.

As he walked, he pondered.

His situation wasn't good. Some might even call it grim. Tycho was lost, alone, and defenseless. It was just a matter of time before some manner of creature stumbled across him. Depending on the circumstances, he'd be sexed up, held hostage, and maybe killed. Not necessarily in that order either. Not to mention it was already starting into late afternoon and he'd have to figure this all out before nightfall. Not that he had any reason to believe night was more dangerous than daylight beside the fact that's what movies and games always told him. He doubted he'd be sleeping.

His thoughts then turned to Arterra. His protector and companion was overbearing but a better alternative to probably most creatures he'd otherwise encounter. He knew she could take care of herself but that Orc had been huge. He hoped he could find her. The idea of her injured or worse wasn't improving his outlook.

His stomach reminded him of his immediate predicament. Gritting his teeth, he trudged onward.

Moving slowly and patiently, he had so far avoided meeting any undesirables. It took the better part of an hour, according to his watch, before he finally heard the stream. He moved toward the sound of running water cautiously. He wouldn't be caught getting careless no matter how dry his mouth or empty his gut. He began to crouch as he got closer. He hid behind a large bush and waited. There was no movement or sound besides the water itself. Checking the ground around him, he found a stick and hefted it. It was just a touch too heavy to wield effectively but it was better than nothing. If nothing else, he might be able to throw it at something.

With his makeshift weapon, he moved forward tentatively. His sneakers gave as the terrain became rocky. He avoided twigs and moved as silently as he could toward his goal. Finally he reached the diminutive stream and squatted down. He set his stick down at his side and reached in with both hands and cupped the clear water. He brought it to his lips and drank heartily. It was cool and crisp, stinging his ragged throat as it went down. He took many more handfuls until his stomach stretched. He then started to wash himself off. He had many small cuts and scrapes from the running earlier, and the sap from Kishenn was still crusted onto him. He scraped the debris from his wounds and vigorously scrubbed the nectar, running the cold water over his exposed flesh. Hardly an effective disinfectant but it would do for now.

As he was finishing his hygiene process, he was assaulted with a feeling that was all too familiar. Every hair on him was suddenly on end and his heart picked up speed. He tensed and began to look around. Tycho was on high alert but didn't know why. He saw nothing, heard nothing, but there was definitely something. Eyes still casting furtive glances around, he reached for his stick but it wasn't there. He patted around for it but to no avail. He finally looked down and found it had completely disappeared. Still crouching, he stared at the ground in disbelief. He was about to bolt when a sudden voice broke his thoughts.

"Looking for something?"

His blood ran cold and his eyes snapped up. He was surprised, to say the least. But not in the way one might expect. Across the stream and directly in front of him was a girl. She wasn't monstrous by any stretch of the imagination. She stood maybe 5 and a half feet tall with platinum blonde hair in a messy ponytail, proud C cup breasts, and tan skin. She had a striking face, in the sense that it looked perfectly innocent. She had almost an Anna Faith quality to her with wide eyes and flawless skin. Gorgeous in a girl-next-door, teenage crush kind of way. She stood upright, looking only curious, bright eyes wide and lips slightly parted. Her hands were tucked behind her back and feet crossed in some sort of ballet plie. This strange girl would have been perfectly at home crawling out of some tanning bed in a rich neighborhood in LA. Or perhaps walking out of a gym posting a butt selfie on her social media. She was very fit but in a natural sort of way. In fact, the most striking thing about her was how unassuming she looked compared to his encounters so far.

Well, that and she was buck naked.

"Nipples," he said.

She cocked her head at him, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean my tits," he recovered gracefully. "Tips! STICK!" He finally yelled at her. "My goddamn stick! Motherfuck."

She took a step back at his sudden volume.

"Sorry," he said warily. "It's just... You're naked."

She giggled, clearly at perfect ease with the situation.

"I often wonder why so many insist on wearing things in the first place," she said melodically. "But yes, I am naked. Wouldn't you like to be? You're almost there."

Something about the way she said it. She seemed perfectly harmless. If push came to shove, he figured he could fight her off but he didn't want it to get to push. Aside from the obvious, this was wrong. She was wrong. And he could feel it in his guts. He looked around, half expecting a raptor on his flank in a jungle like this.

"Yeah, think I'll keep my clothes on, thanks."

"We'll see," she responded cryptically. "What are you? From a distance, I took you for another elf. You're... Different though. For one, you aren't very well endowed."

"Go to hell," he yelled at her. "And how the fuck would you know?"

"Your chest is bare," she replied simply.

"Oh," he said, not understanding. "Oooooohh... Gotcha."

It finally dawned on him that she thought he was female. Some sort of new species she hadn't encountered before. So it was safe to conclude that she was a predator of some kind but she figured he must be as well. She wouldn't have taken his stick otherwise...

"You don't know what I am either, do you," she offered.

Trying to look nonchalant, he resumed his personal grooming as if he were perfectly at ease.

"Nope. Not a clue what you are. Frankly don't care. I'm going to finish drinking here and be on my way."

"And what makes you so sure that will happen," she retorted.

She sounded amused but he heard the quiver in her voice. His ploy was having it's intended effect. Nothing was so scary as the unknown.

"You'll know when you watch me leave."

"Oh? And what happens if something tries to stop you?"

"Only one way to find out," he said smiling at her.

She beamed at him in return. She seemed suddenly a bit more confident and he didn't like that one bit.

"Safe travels then," she said.

"Thank you. You as well," Tycho answered trying to keep his voice as even as possible.

He quickly stood up and jammed his somehow still dirty hands into his pockets. Turning his back as confidently as he could manage, he started walking. He heard a rustling behind him, then nothing. He was getting nervous now. He knew it was coming, he just wasn't sure how to gauge when.

He heard a thud first, then the splash. She was moving toward him at speed. Just like he figured she would. Lightning fast, he pulled the rock out of his pocket he'd stuffed in there moments ago. It was smooth, about the size of a fist, and coated in mud. He spun on his heels, arm already cocked back, and whipped it as hard as he could. It flew dead center where the sound was coming from.

Except it only hit empty air. She was gone.

"A rock?" he heard from behind him.

"Clever girl," he muttered.

"That's how you were going to..."

She never finished. Tycho pulled his other hand out of his pocket, filled with muddied dirt and whipped it at her. With an audible slap it landed right on her face. She cried out in surprise but Tycho was already maneuvering away. He tried to dart around her but she placed a hand on his chest and shoved him back. His feet flew out from under him and he sailed a good 10 paces back, landing in a heap. He gasped and wheezed with the wind knocked out of him. He rolled and attempted to regain his feet but it was proving difficult.

"Seriously!?" She yelled. "You got that in my eye, you motherless cunt!"

She was still rubbing and seemed preoccupied for the moment. Even with no functional lungs, Tycho scrambled to his feet and took off across the stream. He stumbled, fell, and regained his feet twice before he was off. He could still hear her screaming behind him but she wasn't chasing. He began to laugh even in pain that his bullshit trick worked. He was mid-laugh when his foot caught on something and he was sent sprawling. He hit the ground hard, losing his wind again. He tried to force himself to his feet again but something invisible was holding him down.

No, not invisible... Hidden. Hidden, stretchy, and sticky?

"Motherfuck," he wheezed out.

He heard her soft footsteps approaching him from behind.

"Serves you right for throwing mud at me," she said.

"Yeah, well... You stole my stick. Call us even."

"I definitely did. I don't get a lot of visitors and I don't know you. Couldn't have you swinging a stick at me."

"That's what she said."

"What?"

"You're right," he responded with scathing sarcasm. "How rude of me. I should have greeted you properly by waiting for you to turn around before attacking you from behind.

His newest captor giggled.

"Fair enough. But since I've won our little game, I'll have to make you pay for that."

"So are you going to eat me?"

She approached him, circling around in front of him. From his stomach, he looked up at that pristine face and her naked form. Mud marred her otherwise heavenly features but she still somehow managed to look like a beautiful cheerleader. Her blue eyes shone in glee at his battered form.

"Not in the way you're imagining, I think. I already had an elf earlier. Now I'm craving something different. For now, at least. Might still eat you later."

'Jesus, did she just wink at me?' he thought.

From behind her back, no less than six arms appeared. She was smiling now with just a hint of the crazy eyes that people sometimes have... When they're crazy.

"Oh, shit," he said, piecing together eight limbs and him stuck to the ground on his stomach. "Spider girl."

"We prefer the term Jorogumo but whatever works."

Tycho briefly wondered how the Japanese word for spider girl wound up in this place before she pounced. She caught his head between her thighs, his arms with two pairs of her own and held him. She was incredibly strong for her size. He cried out and started thrashing wildly. Whatever was on the ground wasn't strong enough to hold him now that he had regained some wind but she was. She pushed his pants down and he felt the unmistakable prick of fangs sink deep into his ass cheek. She even licked his skin where her mouth was. Liquid fire ran from his ass to every nerve in his body. He tensed and tried a last ditch effort to struggle free. He felt her lick his new puncture wounds and sigh before everything went numb.

At least he wasn't in pain anymore.

"Now," she said as she did god knew what to him. He couldn't feel anything.

"Let's see about making you suffer."

She hoisted him effortlessly over her shoulders and sauntered off.

In the waning sunlight of late afternoon he caught the glimmer of thousands of tiny silk strands along the ground. They were especially thick around where had fallen but they scattered as far as his eyes could see. As the world faded to black and closed in around him, he finally realized that he'd never stood a chance.

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