Arachne Chapter
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Fiona Wilds, fourteen year old recluse, woke up to the dull hum of over half a dozen PCs, just like she did every day.
Homeschooled over the net by her near constantly traveling parents, Fiona did not really want for social contact. She got plenty everyday, after all: with her parents who called everyday (and she loved them very much), her friends (who she didn't know the faces of but probably knew better than most), and the random passerby in her corner of netspace. She exercised an hour a day, went out for groceries, cooked her own meals, and generally did things most girls of her age did. The only difference was that she lived mostly alone while she did all of that.
Fiona yawned as she tapped the spacebars of three different keyboards, bringing their respective displays to life. Her setup of seven towers, twelve screens, and numerous smaller doodads like tablets and external drives was actually inherited from her mother, who in a feat similar to Lazarus' revival simultaneously revitalized and updated the entire rig to the pinnacle of modern tech.
Muscle memory took over for the next two minutes or so as she refreshed and brought up all the usual windows; emails, forums, news, a half-written piece of code she and her father were working on, and numerous archives of animal pictures she'd gush over in due time.
As if on queue, two windows with smiling faces, both backdropped by a waning afternoon sun, popped up. "Good morning honey," her mother and father greeted, warmth in their words and in their eyes.
"Hi mom, hi dad," she said back, her own smile just as fond. "How's Malaysia?"
Fiona stifled a giggle as she saw her mother grimace and her father smile nervously; she was already prepared for what was to be an epic spiel on 'ungodly humidity' and 'silly rain'...
---
It was some hours later, after her morning exercises, when Fiona answered the call of hunger, casually tying her long brown hair into a ponytail as she pieced together a sandwich.
As she slathered on a generous helping of mustard on one side of toast, her phone rang.
She blinked as she flicked the touchscreen. Not a lot of people called her actual mobile number; most everyone she actually knew used her Skype number or an IRC to get to her. The only time she really ever got a cell call was when random relatives asked if her parents were around (which they generally weren't).
"Hello?" she answered cautiously, not recognizing the number. If it came down to it she could trace it pretty easily...
"He...help...m...me..." It was full of static, but Fiona's ears were sharp.
"Excuse me? Who is this? Are you alright? Do you need help?" she said back, a little more worried.
"Be...ca....ful..." And then it cut out.
Fiona stared at her phone for a long moment...and with a button press she recorded the whole thing for later, eyes narrowed.
She was definitely tracing that call.
---
There. Her parents would receive the recording when they woke, and from there the police could be sent a report if they thought it was worth it.
'Though Uncle Merry is probably going to get a call anyway...' she thought absentmindedly, recalling the Wilds' dearest family friend. 'Hmm...I'll call him later.'
Meanwhile she was doing her own work, fingers dancing across her multiple keyboards. The basic data sources were easy to check; from the area code, it was definitely from out of state, and a personal phone as well. Fiona wondered for a bit why she was so invested in this, but that question was answered rather quickly. There was a certain desperation, a quality of fear and panic in that voice that spurred her on.
And then her phone rang again.
"Hello?" she answered with uncharacteristic alacrity, noting that the number was the same...
"R...run...hu...rry...," the voice said.
"Excuse me? Hello?" 'I hope this man's okay, he doesn't sound like he's in very good conditi-'
The earth began to rumble.
Fiona nearly fell over, so startled by the sudden quake that she did nothing but cower for a precious few seconds. There was no lack of panic or fear in her mind, but soon her father's words were in her head. Get outside, get out in the open, stay away from buildings, don't delay for anything...old words, for she lived in earthquake country and her father always made sure she remembered that. Her body almost moved on its own, remembering and following those words easily.
Stumbling outside in her thick home robe and pastel colored pajamas, her brown eyes wide with disbelief, Fiona was unprepared for the sight that greeted her. Stalking through the suburban streets, crushing everything underfoot with its massive claws and without concern, was a four-legged monstrosity almost twenty meters tall.
She froze. Thoughts raced, competed. And then her mind was made up.
No lack of panic or fear, but bravery only arises as terror does, and Fiona had no lack of bravery either.
So she screamed at it.
"H-hey!" she yelled, and then she followed it up with the best insult she could think up. It was good enough to avoid being recorded here, even. That seemed to grab its attention, so she ran, lungs working overtime to be as loud as possible. Her mother, she thought somewhere in a faraway corner of her mind, would've been immensely proud to see how well she pulled aggro.
'Where do I lure it?' she thought frantically, legs pumping. 'Where do I-oh!' As the epiphany hit, she rounded a corner, comforted yet terrified by the steady rumble of steps behind her.
As she ran as far as her legs would take her, mind racing even faster for some sort of plan: maybe use the nearby rail yard to lose it, maybe lure it into the path of a train, maybe distract it longer for what she hoped was the inevitable police or military intervention...
Then she tripped on the very same railroad she was thinking of.
'Oh crap!'
Fiona let out a cry of shock and pain. Her foot, protected only by her fuzzy socks and fuzzier slippers, was caught on the girder. Her ankle flared sharply, and she winced, a curse on her breath. The rumbling got closer, her ears picked up ragged breathing, and her nose warned her of the growing, putrid smell of the thing's breath and body. She was stuck, trapped...
'No,' she thought. 'I'm not. I'm just panicking.'
It got closer, loomed ever closer. Fiona glared at it angrily and tossed a handful of dirt and pebbles as she shifted to her knees, awkwardly rising to her feet so she could try to hop away...
As if sensing Fiona's vulnerability, the monster suddenly advanced. Claws outstretched and maw wide, and though Fiona did her best to get away she was only a kid, still hobbling and afraid and in pain.
In what she thought was one last act of defiance, because she'd be damned before she sat down and cried as something killed her, Fiona threw another fist of gravel at its glowing eyes. "GO AWAY!"
---
Light explodes, bright and warm. It reels as if struck by the light and a moment later it is struck as a giant mass overcomes it like a wave.
She stares, then blinks. Her eyes relay a moment's disbelief as the light unfolds into eight gleaming ribbons, streamers of radiance that wrap around her limbs and body and then she is changed.
Eyes sharp and golden, hair once brown now laced with woven sunlight. Robe and sleepwear are gone and in their places is a dress of earthy brown, gloves and boots of a dark functional leather, and a delicate choker woven out of silvery metal threads.
"Montech Musume Arachne, on the scene," she says, voice flat and not really hers. Threads of light spill from her hands and wind together into a greater length, a chain ending in a dangerously sharp pendant. A flick of her wrist brings it into a blisteringly fast spin, its deafening whirring promising violence.
It struggles against its bonds, an inescapable mass of weblike strands stronger than any cable. It senses a shift in role, from predator to prey, and it tries to flee but her binds give no leeway, no reprieval.
All it can do is thrash hopelessly as the chain flies.
---
Some time later, Fiona found herself waking up, body sore and mind blurry. She was vaguely aware of movement, and the smell of exhaust, and the familiar scent of vanilla...
She stirred, trying to blink the sleep from her eyes as she realized exactly where she was. "D-detective Merry?" she said blearily, and indeed she found herself in her family friend's beat up Ford.
"Hey kid," he replied from the front seat. He was fairly young, and handsome. Glasses framed his eyes and his hair was a little on the long side; his clothes were the usual combination of dress shirt, jacket, and slacks, and Fiona knew there was a pistol harness around his torso even if she couldn't quite see it. Fiona saw the slightest of smiles on his face in the mirror, so she shrunk in on herself, embarassed in only the way a teenager could be when found somewhere they didn't belong. "Mind telling me what you were doing over there?"
"W-well..."
---
It was a pretty simple story, all things considered. The police traced the path of destruction to the railroad, where they found a dead end and an unconscious Fiona; it was truly convenient that Detective Merry was there, or else there'd be more questions. At least from the police.
"I mean I make it a point not to butt in on how your family works kid, I owe that much to your parents, but honestly what were you doing over there?" the Detective asked, examining Fiona from across the seldom used dining table at the Wilds household.
"I was...uh...well, I was...um," Fiona stuttered out, fidgeting in her seat. The cup of tea she had poured herself had yet to be touched. "I s-saw the monster thing on a s-satellite and I-I wanted to see it in person."
Vaguely true, she figured. Detective Merry raised an eyebrow at her answer and let it float in the air for a while before he sighed. "Alright," he said finally. "I'll let it slide, kid. But tell me if something comes up, alright? It'd be a gross disservice to your parents if I ever let you get hurt."
Fiona could only nod nervously. In all honesty she really didn't know what happened herself; the only thing she really lied about was her leading the monster off. Everything that happened in the rail yard...that was a blur. A mystery. What images were in her mind couldn't be real, couldn't be what actually happened, right?
As she let Detective Merry out (after promising completely sincerely that she'd tell him if she remembered anything), Fiona's mind worked, and worked, and worked. Was there anyone she could ask? Any thing she could search? She remembered...words. Power, and a feeling of security she only felt when she was near her computers.
She didn't even notice when she was back in front of said machines, hands nothing but blurs across her keyboards. Something, anything...
A page popped up onto one screen and she blinked, not remembering opening it. It was a forum, titled...Montech Musume...?
Then her Skype rang.
Four other receivers. No dialers.
Fiona stared.
