No stone was left unthreatened as they made their way cautiously back towards the centre of the long-forgotten temple. Every piece of exposed masonry had to stare down the barrel of a rifle as they passed, no chances were being taken. As it turned out, they were more isolated than they originally realised, for when Alter reached for his radio to report their situation, he received no response but featureless static. He loosely toyed with possible scientific explanations as they moved, though he quickly discounted each idea as they arose. It all boiled down to something supernatural, and answers would not be surrendered easily.

  Once more they were welcomed through the empty threshold by the overgrown statue. The context of their situation changed its perceived expression from one of warm acceptance to the poorly concealed smugness of knowing they were creeping into a trap. At a nod from Alter, Boats raised the thermal scope and flicked the power switch before quickly sweeping the room. Then he shook his head and deactivated the scope, the immediate area was clear. The team were able to move up to the scene of the struggle without incident.

  “Whatever jumped our man here, it ripped him apart.” Boozehound muttered as he knelt on the edge of the churned-up moss.

  “Is there anything we can learn here?” Alter asked as he scanned the empty windows high above them.

  “Not really.” The medic shook his head. “Just that he lost enough blood to send him into shock within seconds. I don’t think there’s any way he left under his own effort.”

  Alter nodded grimly. “What about the tracks leading away, any clues hidden in there?”

  “Well,” Boozehound’s voice tailed off as he traced the attacker’s path. “I’d say it's big enough, or strong enough, to pull him along with little to no effort. It also looks like the body was lifted off the ground for short distances, so maybe it’s stronger than you’d suspect again. Strange though, there aren’t any real footprints that a creature of such size should leave. But there are plenty of patches of squashed moss all over the place that I suppose could fit the bill.”

  Alter looked down at the green floor and quickly picked out what he’d been told, soft divots in the moss that spoke of weight and purpose. Then he turned, his eyes tracking slowly across the mossy ground back towards the statue.

  “How did we not notice this before? The room is full of them, and if they are indeed the prints of whatever’s creeping around in here…” His words petered out.

  “Then we could be dealing with a whole pack of these things.” Boats finished.

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, they could just be gaps in the flagstones, or something.” Boozehound attempted to reassure them, he almost sounded convincing.

  “It doesn’t matter, we’re still trapped. We push on.” Alter ordered, and the team began to follow the blood as it pooled in the divots that could mark the passage of a beast.

  The tracks led out of the temple proper and towards one of the larger outbuildings. He knew that it was most likely due to the fact that the structure was slowly collapsing, but Alter could swear the entrance had been ripped open. In stark contrast to its fellows, this building had its roof mostly intact. Alter hissed out a breath and shook his head as he stepped into the shadows of the interior, pausing to allow his friends to follow him in. Boats stepped up alongside him and raised the scope, the image piercing the dark to reveal walls and corridors. Piles of ancient wood which would’ve once been furniture lay in against the walls and in the corners. Faint blotches of warmth revealed the path of blood which quickly disappeared deeper into the building. With a tap on his arm, Boats began to follow the glowing trail with Alter peering at the scope over his shoulder with his rifle raised. It was a strange layout, the team passed rows upon rows of small, featureless rooms that looked like prison cells, complete with stone shelves large enough to be considered a bed. At least they had the small blessing of sections of roof that had collapsed, allowing scattered pools of light to help guide the way while simultaneously allowing them to save battery life on the scope. After a few minutes, the blood dripped its way into one of the chambers, and the team paused to consider their course of action.

  “I can’t hear anything inside. Can you?” Boats asked in the faintest whisper.

  “No, I can’t either.” Alter murmured after taking a moment to listen. “Move in.”

  As one, with two rifles and a scope raised, they pushed around the corner and filled the doorway. No monster reared up in response, and furtive glances through the scope revealed no hidden monstrosity lurking within. It was just another cell, only this one was indeed occupied by the ruined body of Brown.

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  “That’s odd.” Boozehound whispered as they looked at the body.

  Brown had been placed on the stone bed, and not without some care. He lay on his back, his legs together and his arms crossed atop his chest, as if he was laying in repose during a wake, or some other funeral rite. Light creeping through the wall illuminated his face and chest, revealing several large gashes and areas of swelling. Blood dribbled onto the floor, forming a small lake which edged gently across the room. His clothes were stained dark red, and small patches of moss clung to the folds. Strange. The body seemed to have been treated with reverence, yet had been unceremoniously dragged here. Carefully positioned, but so brutally dispatched.

  “This is no mere beast.” Alter commented as he stepped into the cell. “Too much care has been shown here.”

  “Like a ghost that still vaguely remembers how it used to live, I say that fits the bill for an Unrepentant.” Boats commented as he turned away to watch their rears.

  Tearing his eyes away from Brown, Alter couldn’t help but feel that, once again, something was wrong with this place, with this room in particular. Disregarding the body, it almost felt as if the air itself was incorrect, like he was wearing a pair of shoes where one was a half-size bigger than the other. Spinning around, he searched for the source of his discomfort, but other than his friends and former foe, there was nothing he could see.

  Then he realised that something was wrong with the light in this chamber. It was twisting. Distorted. The narrow rays of sunlight that pierced through small cracks in the back wall were not hitting the floor in the correct places, bending in an environment where it should not. Here, in this forsaken space, light was losing momentum. In this space, time did not flow, it juddered. This realisation of wrongness began to pound at his skull like a hammer, and he quickly stepped away.

  “It’s like the barrier outside, only it takes a while to kick in. This place is just so wrong.” He grumbled as Boozehound too began to feel the effects and backed away.

  “I keep telling myself that at times like these it’s okay for things to not make sense, but this is getting ridiculous.” The Frenchman muttered as he hurried out of the cell, heading a little further down the corridor before looking into the next in the row. “Oh, hello.” He said slowly.

  “What is it?” Alter asked immediately.

  “There’s a body in this room too, in the same pose no less, but much, much older.” Boozehound answered before poking his head into the third cell. “And another one in here, as well. Even older again, I’d wager. All presented in the same way, and while I don’t know much about cadavers, they seem to be in strangely good condition.”

  “So, what? This thing’s collecting and preserving people like they’re dolls or whatever? This gives me the creeps.” Boats complained.

  Alter opened his mouth to respond but his words were silenced by the sudden vibration that passed through the space. Small streams of perished mortar fell from the ceiling, and several thudding steps, moving away from them, came from somewhere above.

  “Well. Shit.” Alter spat through gritted teeth as he tried to trace the path of whatever made that noise.

  “We need to get out of this building quickly.” Boozehound urged.

  There was no need for discussion, the team near-sprinted back out into daylight. Cutting to the right the moment they exited, they sought the nearest patch of open ground. In between outbuildings was a stone courtyard, the floor covered in marble blocks that formed the shape of the sun. The team skidded to a halt in the centre, turning their backs to each other to cover all angles. Alter’s eyes shifted frantically from spot to spot, up and down, near and far. With the scope out of his line of sight, he needed to rely on miniscule context clues, and the hope that the light would be seen to bend as it did in the cell. The passing seconds saw a dozen heartbeats thunder past like wild horses. He almost jumped out of his skin when Boats softly called out to them.

  “Don’t react immediately. Two o’clock, top windows, third from the left. Christ, that is one weird bastard.” He intoned, his voice passive so as not to give anything away.

  Slowly, Alter turned his head to peer into the scope which was pointed in the direction he had indicated. There, silent and statuesque in the blacks and whites of thermal vision, was a spider. The main body was perhaps the diameter of a mid-sized car, with eight legs that splayed out in all directions. Those were not the only limbs it had, however, as a strange lump above the head separated out into two sets of arms, each ending in a long, scythe-like blade. Across the front of the lump, stretching down towards the arachnid face, was the body of a human. It was posed in the same manner as the bodies in the cells, with its feet above on the lump and the heads next to each other, set into the Unrepentant’s chitinous body as if partially submerged in water. Alter couldn’t help but notice that the human head had tilted, and was looking directly at them.

  “Looking at it, I’m starting to think that our guns may not have the penetration to hurt that thing.” Boats whispered.

  “Only one way to find out. Ready?” Alter asked.

  The two men nodded, and after a three second countdown, each man raised their weapon and opened fire, a fully automatic stream of leaden death. The Unrepentant endured the assault passively at first, then burst into horrifyingly rapid motion.