The Abandoned Village
The spider that had taken my rock to the face came flying at me with its mouth stretched impossibly wide. And the thought that occurred to me as it hurtled right up to my nose was, amusingly enough, a question: how does a spider make a sound like that? Were spiders even capable of making noise? Well, whatever this thing was, it looked far removed from any spider I had known.
Only one spider was charging in, so I snatched its foreleg, tore it free, and drove it straight down into the creature's head. The spider's sharp foreleg proved more than strong enough to punch through its black exoskeleton. It was apparently some kind of monster, after all — it stood to reason it would be hard.
"Kieeee..."
With that strange shriek, green blood sprayed from its skewered skull, and it took roughly ten seconds for the spider's thrashing to finally stop.
"Turn signal, you say. Right, I should have signaled before coming in."
I wasn't saying my own heart was in bad shape, but I could hardly speak for the state of the viewers' hearts as they watched this.
But was nothing more coming? Or had this simply been some one-off event, like a scripted jump scare?
"I may need to seriously reconsider whether this is a horror game or not. What say all of you?"
"Shall I throw more rocks, then?"
Just as that thought crossed my mind, I felt the spiders moving. The ones that had surrounded me on all sides were slipping away somewhere. With the blizzard still sealing off my sight and senses, I couldn't tell exactly where they were headed — but at least my road ahead would grow easier.
"They're gone."
So there was nothing for them to see down this blizzard-choked road. Not that it was any concern of mine — no need to explain it kindly to them — and I simply resumed walking along the path. And so, what waited at the road's end? Actually, I had realized by now that I had no need to ask such questions. There was nothing in this world I needed to fear.
"A village, it seems."
Reaching the village did not take long at all. Perhaps ten minutes or so — though for ordinary people, calling that stretch a horror game would have been entirely fair.
"Was there anything to be afraid of?"
Were they simply a sensitive lot, or had I been worn down to nothing... Ah, that's the phrasing. There was no real need to deliberate over it.
And yet, what a strange place this was. There was no trace of life to be felt anywhere. Not even the presence of spiders, of all things. The only reason I recognized this as a village at all was thanks to the broken road, the standing palisade, and the torches that burned on even through the blizzard, lighting the way. The fact that those torches refused to die in this weather struck me as odd — though perhaps some spell had been laid upon them.
"We have arrived at the village. Now, then — what am I meant to do here?"
"And now those who were meant to come out and greet me are gone. That's what happened, it seems."
Most likely, killing that one spider was the problem. The viewers had apparently never realized I had walked the road while surrounded by spiders — and since that was the only difference between them and me, it had to be the culprit. There was evidently something I was supposed to do in this village, and now that purpose had vanished.
"Then I shall simply have a look around."
"Well, what can you do? The situation has come apart at the seams, so I'll simply have to think on my feet as it goes."
Who on earth had the nerve to type that in a moment like this? Hmm... I hadn't the faintest idea.
"I have a feeling the blizzard is growing a touch weaker."
After all, among the messages scrolling past, there was someone who had clearly seen the future.
"Spoilers are forbidden!"
Cut.
"Hah. I've severed something utterly useless."
"Which would make all of you the newbies, wouldn't it."
Through the blizzard, now noticeably thinner, the village revealed itself with improved clarity — and it looked desolate. As though people had lived here until very recently, but between the blizzard and some spider attack, cobwebs and broken doors appeared here and there.
"Is this village normally like this?"
Taking their words into account as I looked around, one house caught my eye — markedly better kept than the rest. The kind of house where someone could have been living mere minutes ago.
"There's a feeling that something might be here. Far too intact compared to the other houses, isn't it?"
It was a two-story house built of wood and brick. The snow piled before its door stood about half the height of the drifts at the other houses — a light sweep, and it would be clear.
"Not locked, I see."
The door swung open without the slightest resistance. Stepping inside to escape the pouring snow and shutting the door behind me, I found a fairly tidy interior lit by candlelight.
"It's quite clean inside."
And there, of all things, sat a bowl of soup. Someone had been staying here, and had not been gone for long — of that there was no doubt.
"A hunter's home, perhaps? Not quite a woodcutter's, but not a bad sight, wouldn't you say? The tableware and the candlestick in particular are quite striking. And look — they've even set out soup for the guests to come. Hmm?"
My eyes caught on the plate and spoon on the table, the candlestick at its center — and then on the letter lying where it had been overlooked.
"You must leave the village at once? The very first line and it's already so urgent."
So it seemed to be a letter left behind by that someone. Reading further: the blessing on the village was fading, and she had been preparing to leave this place. Then, hearing the spiders' cries from the forest, she had hurried on her way — and should anyone find this letter, they were begged to leave the village at once...
"That was my doing."
A blessing. The torches burning through the village must have been its work as well. And so was the blizzard growing weaker. Then what would happen, I wondered, if the blessing here were to vanish?
Flicker...
The candle flame that had lit the house began to tremble feebly. I watched the wavering light gutter for a long moment — until, with a faint hiss of smoke, it went out entirely.
"So the blessing was wireless. To go out this quickly, no less."
Going by the circumstances, it hadn't even been twenty minutes since they'd left. What a remarkably quick thing to die. Given that it went out the instant I finished the letter, that may well have been the trigger.
"That's quite enough of that."
Looking out the window through the darkened house, I saw the blizzard gathering strength. The world beyond the glass blurred and whited out, the snow lashing harder against the panes — until the only sound filling the house was the drumming of snow on the window.
"How noisy."
Come to think of it, the reason the spiders hadn't attacked me on the road was probably tied to the blessing. Which meant that now they would surely come at me openly — so, anywhere handy for a weapon?
"First, let's have a look at the second floor."
"I am looking for something I can use as a weapon."
"Mind your tongues. It is nothing dangerous. I simply have no wish to dirty my hands."
Did they have any idea how tedious it would be to deal with each and every one of those spiders as they came swarming in?
"You want me to deal with every last one of that horde? Tedious."
"You. Out."
"Hm. As it turns out, there was no need to climb to the second floor at all."
A single sword had been laid across the railing — whether out of overflowing generosity, or simple human kindness.
"Not bad at all."
I drew the blade and examined its edge. In its cold gleam, my reflection seemed unusually lively tonight.
"A day for blood, it seems."