《Webs of Ink and Static.》 Larry: the Literary Spider. "My great story..." Swaying gently in the dim light, the spider clutched the tiny scrap of paper in its delicate legs. The parchment was frayed at the edges, a bit old-looking but still in shape. Below, a soft breeze rustled through the cavernous space, stirring the dust that had long settled in the corners of its home. The spider, unbothered by the movement, twisted slightly in its web, angling the paper a little more to the light so that it could read it better. "I don''t understand what the issue is!" The spider''s voice echoed through the cave, startling a nearby moth. "Is there a reason no one seems to be reading them? Could it be the pacing, or something else entirely?!¡± The moth, wisely keeping its distance far enough away from the web, fluttered closer. "Maybe," it ventured carefully while still making sure it didn''t touch the silky web, "you could ask for feedback?¡± "No, no, no!" The spider''s legs trembled, causing the web to vibrate. "That would mean admitting there might be something wrong with my writing! No way I''m doing that, not ever!¡± A little bothered by the sudden darkness that had begun to fill the cave, the spider tilted its body again, adjusting the angle of its web so that the paper caught more light. The ink had bled slightly, as if it had been exposed to damp air for too long, but the words were still legible and very much readable. However, no matter how hard it looked, it didn''t know why its masterpiece was not being fought over by the mortal men and women. Surely, if they had even read one of its stories, they would have loved it and would have continued to do so with all the others. Yes, perhaps that was it, after all, there is no way it could have possibly messed up. ¡°I think it''s about time I see who I''m losing to!!¡± The spider carefully set the scrap of paper down onto its web, securing it with a few thin strands of silk. With one last glance at its treasured words, it scuttled to the edge of the web and peered down into the darkness below. The cavern stretched far and wide, its walls lined with the forgotten and discarded books of those who had once dwelled above. Some would call it trash, yes, but to Larry, these were his personal treasures that he kept tightly to himself. Books, scrolls, and crumbling parchments lay in haphazard piles, some half-buried beneath piles of garbage in one corner, while others lay carefully stacked on top of each other. Larry had always assumed these were the works of lesser writers, unworthy of attention. But now, doubt crept into its many-legged frame. The idea that one of its books might end up like this was one that he couldn''t bear to even think about. The thought itself only made him shiver, from a chill that didn''t really exist in its pocket dimension. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. As he descended through the layers of his web network, Larry''s eyes caught an unusual glint among the scattered papers. The object stood out starkly against the mountainous piles of books in his collection, its surface catching what little light filtered through the cavern. The moth, after noticing that Larry had moved from its position, made sure to move itself, scurrying to a dark corner in the cavern while trying to make itself as small and unnoticeable as possible as it blended into its surroundings. Nevertheless, it kept eyeing the spider, which was now holding what appeared to be a human-made piece of machinery while examining it with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "Now, what do we have here?" Larry muttered, approaching the strange item, though making sure to be careful while doing so. "Perhaps this is what those mortals are using instead of proper books these days?¡± The contraption looked very heavy for its size, all cold metal and strange symbols etched along its surface. Larry turned it over with his delicate legs, the gears clicking softly in its head as it grabbed one of the symbols on the board of the object, while more symbols began to appear on the glowing surface of the thing. "What is this?" the spider muttered, tapping another one of the buttons with the tip of a leg. A faint hum echoed through the cavern, one of the hanging pieces of the contraption flickering to life, its tiny screen illuminating the darkness within the cavern. The moth, however, stopped looking after its instincts had told it that Larry wouldn''t be much of a problem. After all, it neither had the time nor the comprehension skills to understand what the spider was doing, so focusing inward on itself, it pulled at the mana in the air, fueling the tiny, iridescent scales on its wings with a faint glow, enhancing its camouflage and preparing a defensive dust from its antenna that shimmered with latent magic. It wouldn''t be the first time Larry tried to get touchy with her, and she wasn''t trying to get eaten by the spider who would certainly be hungry after centuries of not having eaten anything. Larry''s many eyes glimmered with fascination as the device whirred softly in its legs. It tapped the glowing screen again, watching as strange shapes and symbols shifted before it. The contraption, though utterly foreign, seemed to be responding to it''s touch. Could this be the secret to the success of modern mortal writers? "How peculiar," it mused, turning the object over. "It lacks the charm of ink and parchment, yet it holds words within it.¡± From her dark corner, the moth twitched an antenna, observing the spider¡¯s engrossed state. "Be careful with that thing, Larry," she warned, her voice barely coming out as a whisper. "It might not be as harmless as it looks." Larry could only scoff at that, weaving a few silken strands to prop the device at a better angle. "Nonsense! If mortals can use it, surely I, a creature of unparalleled intellect, can master it.¡± Its leg hovered over another key before pressing it down with a decisive click. The screen flared to life with a hum. The sudden noise startled him, and for an instant, the space around him flickered, collapsing inward into itself as the temporal hold of the dimension shattered, random moments in reality bleeding into themselves simultaneously, as everything stilled, bent, and reversed around each other. A spatial singularity began to take place, the walls and every other object in the room lifting upward to join that singular spot in reality. Just as quickly, reality snapped back into place as he regained his composure. The chaotic energy emanating from its body slowly ebbed away as the distortion in reality settled back into place. Larry, it''s legs still twitching with the aftershock of the distortion, blinked rapidly as his many eyes recalibrated. The strange device before him had gone dark, its faint hum silenced, and the screen now showed nothing but static. He almost thought he heard an ''I told you so'' from the moth, but the creature itself didn''t actually dare to speak those words. ¡°I love and hate humans sometimes.¡± And so, he continued his attempts to understand the weird device. The end. A spiders bitter rival. Daniel sat in the backseat of the car, his arms crossed over his chest, gazing outside the window as the world passed by in a blur of colors. His face was etched with the unmistakable look of boredom, and his lips were puckered slightly into a pout. Every now and then, he tapped his fingers on the window, trying to distract himself as best as possible from the intense boredom he felt. Though it wasn''t working the way he wished it would. He hated sitting in a car, not just because it practically took his parents forever to get to where they were going, but also because he couldn¡¯t write anything while he was stuck there. Every time he tried to think of an idea, it would constantly slip away from him, which was annoying. On top of that, the constant movement of the car made it nearly impossible to think, and it also made him a little woozy. Even more annoyingly, his little sister was sitting right next to him in the backseat, trying and succeeding at getting on his nerves. She didn''t even try to hide what she was doing. Humming to herself, she tapped her feet on the floor, looking at him in the eyes as she did so, in a way that was clearly meant to get under his skin. Every now and then, she would nudge him with her elbow, grinning mischievously whenever he shot her a glare. It didn¡¯t help that she was always asking him to play some game or talk to her, but he wasn¡¯t in the mood to do so, so she just kept trying to annoy him because of that. ¡°Mother!!¡± Daniel groaned, throwing his head back against the seat. ¡°She¡¯s doing it again!!¡± Sarah let out an exasperated sigh from the front seat, glancing at them through the rearview mirror. "Lily, can you please give your brother a break?" Lily, unfazed, rested her chin in her hands, her mischievous grin spreading wider. "But he''s just so easy to mess with," she teased, her voice dripping with playful innocence. Daniel shot her a look of annoyance, rolling his eyes as he turned away, "You''re the worst," ¡°Am not!¡± "You''re too!" Daniel yelled back at her. Lily just giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she continued to poke him. "Come on, Daniel! Play with me!" she chirped, tapping her foot rhythmically against his leg. Daniel closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to find some patience. He could feel his temper rising, but he also knew giving in would just encourage her. "No,¡± Before Lily could say anything, Paul turned to face them both and said, ¡°Lily, just give your brother some space. Here, take my phone and play around with it for a bit. And Daniel, here¡¯s a book for you. I know you¡¯re a bright kid, always full of ideas, so I¡¯m sure you¡¯ll find something to spark your imagination.¡± From there, he didn''t really bother to remember much of anything that happened, as he just began to scribble down whatever came into his mind.
____________ The rich aroma of aged whiskey mingled with the greasy allure of some fried food, that was underscored by the faint tang of rain drifting in from one of the nearby open windows. In the corner, a jukebox murmured an old blues tune, Its soft notes wove through the haze of the dimly lit bar, adding a bittersweet harmony to the atmosphere. One man sat alone at a small table by the window, with a half-empty glass of scotch resting in front of him. His gaze wasn''t drawn to the bustling room or the bartender''s overly large ass, but was instead fixated on the small cubic object in his hands as he took another sip of his glass of smoky scotch, before eyeing the stranger who had just slipped through the door. Throwing the cube in his mouth, he chewed slowly, savoring the slight crunch as the ice melted in his mouth. His gaze shifted to the stranger standing in the doorway, the rainwater on their raincoat dripping onto the scuffed wooden floor. The flickering neon sign outside cast a halo around their silhouette as they scanned the room, their sharp eyes briefly lingering on the lone man by the window. "Didn''t think you''d still be here after all these years," he said, their voice low and gravelly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And I didn''t expect to see one of your kind down here in the underworld," the man at the table chuckled. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the ice cube inside clinking softly before dissolving further. "But I guess the underworld has a way of calling those who don''t belong anywhere else.¡± The surroundings froze. Everyone was stuck, frozen in place, unable to move as the world around them turned into a dull gray color. The nearby sounds of chatter, along with the clamor of activity from everyone in the vicinity, vanished away into silence as the man slowly began to rise from his seat. "Crowley." "Didn''t think you''d recognize me after all this time," he said, his hand drifting toward the inside of his raincoat. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. "I didn''t think I needed to, to be quite honest," he said, his eyes narrowing. "Neither did I really want to, but¡­ fate has a funny way of dragging old ghosts back into the light," he finished, his voice carrying a razor-thin edge of disdain. He leaned forward slightly, the dim light catching the scar that cut across his left eyebrow as he stepped forward. Crowley''s smirk widened, though his hand stayed poised near his coat. "And here I thought you''d be glad to see me. After all, it''s not every day you get a visit from an old... friend." "You don''t want this fight." The false visage he wore that was meant to replicate the appearance of a Middle Eastern man faltered, before sliding off and falling to the ground with a meaty thud as he stepped forward, chunks of his body falling off to the ground. His arms and legs elongated with his neck, his eyes glowing as the surroundings twisted and bent. "I think I do.¡± Crowley was a dangerous demon who had a thing for pretty faces. A long time ago, he made a deal with him that resulted in him selling his soul to it. However, things got nasty when he decided that he loved himself too much to be thrown into an everlasting fire, to be continuously fed to a demon who could never really starve in the first place. Needless to say, self-preservation instincts kicked in at the wrong time, and now he was royally fucked. David stood his ground, teeth gritted as he reached for the revolver tucked into the waistband of his jeans, his fingers brushing against the cold steel of his gun, his eyes never leaving Crowley''s as he took a step back away from it. After all, he wasn¡¯t an idiot; he knew better than to face down a demon unarmed. But he also knew that even with a gun in his hand, he stood little chance against something like Crowley. He took a deep breath in, absorbing the nearby ambient mana into his core, his shoulders and muscles relaxing as he stood, carefully eyeing the demon as it skittered across the walls. The multiple faces on the leather satchel it had on its back stared back at him, each one of their expressions twisted in a grotesque blend of malice and amusement, all the while they continued laughing and jeering at him in multiple languages he both understood and didn''t understand. David occasionally took some hesitant steps backward, his heart racing as he drew out his gun, his fingers trembling slightly from the mixture of fear and anticipation in his chest. ¡°I''m going to kill you, twist your arms in ways you can''t imagine before chopping up your face and ripping out those golden eyes of yours and putting them in my collection. I will then use your corpse to create more children of yours and repeat the process with them.¡± Crowley hissed. David¡¯s grip tightened on the revolver, his knuckles turning white as he leveled the barrel at Crowley¡¯s shifting form. The demon slithered and contorted, its elongated limbs clicking as its bones reset in an unnatural way, its many faces laughing in discordant echoes that scraped against David¡¯s skull like rusted nails on a broken glass. His breath came slow and steady despite the adrenaline surging through him. His free hand, the one not holding the gun, twitched ever so slightly, drawing the gathered ambient mana into his body. ____________
¡°Daniel.¡± He heard his sister, but her voice barely registered to him. He was too absorbed in his writing, his focus so intense that the world around him faded into the background. His pen scratched furiously across the page, each stroke of the pen on the delicate piece of paper filling in the tiny blanks within the little world in which he was so absorbed into. For a moment, he paused, tapping the pen against the paper as he gathered his thoughts. Then, with a deep breath, he continued on writing, ignoring the persistent call of his name. ¡°Alright, kiddo, we¡¯re heading to the store. You¡¯re welcome to hang out here if you¡¯d like, and just give us a call if you need anything. We¡¯ll only be gone for a little while, just grabbing a few things before we head back.¡± Paul was a good dad, always checking up on his son as a rightful father should. He was kind, loving, and patient. All qualities that Daniel himself acknowledged from his dear old dad. ¡°Thank you, father. I think I''ll be staying back.¡± Paul nodded before scooping up Lily into his arms, his mother giving him a kiss on the forehead before the three headed off to the supermarket.
____________ Crwley¡¯s grotesque grin widened. ¡°Still clinging to those little parlor tricks, I see,¡± it mocked, voice warping and overlapping as if spoken from a hundred mouths at once. "Tell me, David, do you really think your pathetic little tricks will do you any good this time?¡± David didn''t respond. He knew better than to waste breath speaking to a demon. After all, just because it looks human doesn''t mean it has human emotions, so talking to it wasn''t a good idea. The bullet hurtled toward Crowley¡¯s head. For a split second, the bullet seemed to hit its mark until Crowley¡¯s body rippled like water, parting around the projectile before snapping back into place. His features contorted with fury, and with a snarl, she lunged at David. ____________
Writing with a pen was one of the main things he hated about paper book authorship. Just one little slip-up, and you were automatically cooked, potentially having to restart from scratch just to get a sentence right. Even more annoying was the fact that, despite centuries'' worth of technological advancements, no one had ever bothered to figure out a reliable way to erase ink from paper. That was frustrating. ¡°Crwley¡¯s,¡± he repeated, looking at the small grammatical error he had made, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He stared at the offending word, its misplaced letters mocking him from the page. He tapped his pen against the notebook, debating whether to scratch it out and rewrite the sentence above it or just abandon the page altogether. ¡°This would have been embarrassing if I had actually put it on ShelfSync, especially since I started getting messages from that creepy old guy. He would have been clowning about it all day long.¡± Daniel let out a frustrated sigh, his gaze lingering on the misspelled word. He could practically hear his own inner voice mocking him for the careless slip-up. But, in the end, it was just a story. No one would see it. Right? ¡°Yeah, it''s probably best if I don''t put it on the site. I''m just going to keep it in my bag for a while as a side story for later, if I decide to get back to it.¡± His fingers gripped the pen a little tighter, the ink blurring slightly from the tension. But then, he exhaled slowly, letting the breath settle in his chest. Thinking about it for a little while, he made up his mind and placed the notebook back where his pops had given it to him.
"Write that down, write that down, write that down!" Larry shouted. Some of the stone golems it had created using its spider threads ran around everywhere to grab as much paper as they could, trying and partially succeeding at replicating the little kids'' story into their own original version. In front of Larry, a tiny mini version of Earth floated before its, its many eyes staring down at the planet as multiple panels of events that were simultaneously happening in the past, present, and future stretched out before it while it observed the little brat it had bitterly decided to consider its rival. ¡°While you guys do that, make sure he doesn''t do anything else while I''m gone. I think it''s time I pay him a visit.¡± The golems scurried about, fumbling with papers and scribbling words that appeared to be a rough imitation of Daniel¡¯s hastily written ideas. Their movements were jerky and uncoordinated, far from the fluid grace that Larry himself had perfected over the years. He clicked his mandibles together in irritation, watching them try and fail to copy the boy¡¯s work. All of this reminded him why he needed to figure out a way to create life. The golems did not have a shred of life within them, and the only thing animating their bodies was the meager amount of energy he had poured into the rocks while hastily piecing them together into what briefly resembled a sentinel. They were more like... what the mortals refer to as ¡®''AI,'' but without the intelligent parts. In any case, he better go see the brat before something changes within the timeline. Not a chapter!! But please read!!!!!! Hello readers! Um, this is me. You can call me anything you want, but just refer to me as Otto. There isn''t any chapter for today. I''m kind of busy with a lot of stuff, so please wait for me to publish next week, probably on Thursday. No guarantees, because I don''t like breaking promises. Um, yeah, thank you for 64 views, and anyway, ''Chains of the Past'' (A Fire Emblem Heroes Fanfiction) is a pretty good story. They aren''t uploading, probably because of the lack of attention their book is getting, so please go over there and show them some love. And that''s it for me. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Goodbye ????.