I started panicking, as my vision doubled. Thick strains of hallucinogenic fumes tore their way up my nostrils, and dug their immolating fingertips into my brain; tugging me forward, into the hypnotic hollow before me.
The scene subtly shifted, and I noticed a small branch, dangling overhead; overladen with bright, ripened apples. The red orbs hanging from the tree were so decadent, and shining, that my mouth began to water.
'How long had it been since I last ate,' I wondered; reaching on my tip toes to just barely get within range to graze the bottom edge of the fruit. My hand reached out to grab one, but it was just barely out of reach.
I'd have to stretch further, in order to seize any, and for that; I'd need to step forward. It didn't seem like such a terrible idea, after all. I knew that I could easily walk back out. In fact, I wondered why I had worried so much about this stupid plant, in the first place...?
Then, the sickly fetid stench of the deer corpse wafted into my nostrils, and snapped me back to reality. There was no apple. There was no tree. There wasn't even a branch. I was teetering dangerously close to losing my balance, with my toes near to slipping on my moccasins.
I hurriedly slammed back onto my haunches, to regain my balance. It was clear that I could no longer trust my own eyes, or ears.
I huffed aloud, in frustration. I thought I could surely outsmart this thing, but it was obvious that I was out of my depth.
I started to lift my left leg, which was in front, and begin the slow, shameful trek back to my friends, but again, I was surprised by how thoroughly trapped I was.
My foot wouldn't move.
Not because I didn't want to, nor because I couldn't physically clench the muscles necessary, but my foot seemed mechanically bonded to the surface that was underneath. My shoes would no longer separate from the auburn platform underneath.
This was no longer the adherent force of the viscous glue-like substance, but something firmly anchoring my foot in a way that was no longer tractable.
I glanced over to the fallen deer over to my left, in search for answers, and it was with a jolt of panic that I realized that the squirming masses tunneling through its body were not, in fact, maggots feasting on its rotting flesh—but a coppice of delicate wiry shoots that had effectively bored their way through the entire bulk of the animal—carving its way singularly through organs, muscles, and bones alike with the same unstoppable ferocity.
It wouldn't be long until my feet had been drilled through as though hooked with an awl, as well. I wanted to leap into action, but a secondary calm washed over me. It was clear that the shoots, as unstoppable as they were, took their time to develop, and mature. Likely, it had only started growing after I stopped moving.
My shoes were surely fused with the fabric of the petal below, but the advantage I had over the deer was that I had a second foot inside. If I were to step carelessly, my second chance would have been wasted!
I slowly slipped out of the moccasins, and stood on the top of them, as if the ground were made of burning coals. Then, turning around carefully, I faced the direction that I had come from.
Then, again, the ground fell out from underneath me, and all that I saw was a cliff's edge beyond the heel of my shoes. The rapidity of the vision almost shocked me into losing my balance, but I waved my arms back and forth until the scene odiously melted back into what I remembered it to be. It took every ounce of control in my body to keep from diving headfirst into the gelatinous salve underneath me, but I kept my wits about me.
A fearsome chitinous clatter rustled down through the canopy coverage, overhead, and I realized that I was running out of time. The forest floor wasn't far away, now, only a few feet to safety, and it was a leap that I had made hundreds of times before. There was only the pressure of knowing that if I messed up, somehow, I would no longer be able to escape.
The moccasins rippled with the texture of shoots announcing their penetration of the material at the bottom of the foot. It was now, or never! I gathered the strength into my calves, squatted down, and took a leap of faith.
"Sghreeek!" came the call from overhead, as a hairy forelimb swiped through the air, inches from the crown of my head. I crashed to the ground, mercifully clean of the sticky substance that would hold me in place before the shoots found their grasp, and slid a few inches in order to assess what had just occurred.
I wasn't given long to settle, as the trees groaned in displeasure at the unbelievable weight that was currently pushing through its branches as it settled onto the earth before me with a violent crunch. All eight legs met the ground at the same time, and it lowered its mandibles to the point that I could see eight distinct pinpoints of light as its eyes reflected the seldom myriad of sunbeams that had made its way to this layer of the forest.
It reared its massive thorax, and a humid steam burst from a pattern of portals around its body, as its spiracles let loose another dispiriting screech. "Pfweeeick!"
It was a creature as unlike a spider, as a dove was related to a cassowary. Each leg was at least the length of two grown men, and armored like the shell of a tortoise. The hairy texture covering its surface did very little to mask its completely and utterly hateful physique. It was as if the forest had thought to give form to its brutal and uncaring nature, incarnate.
Its four mandibles of sharp, glistening razor, slid over each other in a gesture that seemed not dissimilar to a butcher's sharpening of his knife—or a malicious interlocutor rubbing his hands as he ruminates over his nefarious plot finally coming to fruition.
Worst of all, it was blocking my path of escape. My heart thumped in my throat, and pounded across my temples, while the titanic invertebrate edged its way toward me, as if daring me to try to slip by it. Then, impatiently, it leapt forward a couple inches; as if ordering me back onto the pad that I had just escaped.
It was hard to keep straight what it was that I wanted to do, as my mind kept slipping back into the hold of the sickening smell that wafted across the entire scene. My stomach lurched, and thinking quickly, I aimed the projectile spray of stomach acid toward the Mammoth Arachnid.
The fluids flew in the air like a swarm of oracle ticks, sailing directly for any vacant orifices available; like the eyes, or mouth. Unfortunately, the creature before me had eight or more of them, and no lids or lips to seal any shut.
The burning acid of my stomach scalded violently on the sensitive apertures, and it reeled back for a moment—opening a path with its new posture, that wasn't there before—directly underneath the body.
It shook its head violently, scraping at its head with its pedipalps in a desperate attempt to reduce the damage possible, and was surprised to find that by the time it was recovered, the prey had completely disappeared.
"Get your big fat booty outta here!" I guffawed, high-tailing it with the utmost gusto. I was so overcome with adrenaline and ecstasy at my impossible escape, that I had forgotten one of the chief principles of survival in the forest.
Do not draw attention to yourself. A loud whooping noise came back from the canopy, as the monkeys caught the exclamation, and echoed back their jubilant phrase. My heart sank.
That would certainly draw a lot more predators to the area. 'Ugh, I'm so stupi--Aaaaahh!" I screamed aloud, as I realized the padding vibrations slowly growing in intensity belonged to the behemoth I had so mindlessly taunted.
It was gaining on me! "Oh Great Blue, what the five is wrong with me?!" I pleaded, hoping that something might happen to slow the creature down, or speed my footsteps up, or split open the earth, or bring my friends closer; anything at all!
"Kreeeashh!" It shouted, forcing all the air from its thorax at once, to signal how close it was, to attaining its meal. Bright swaths of blood pooled in my footprints as small rocks and sharp splinters scratched at the soles of my feet. My breathing grew more troubled than ever, as I had already overextended my unfit beanpole of a body. I couldn't run anymore.
I turned around, panting, and readied the fork.