745: Story 745: The Widow’s Seize 745: Story 745: The Widow’s Seize The paladin gasped, his body suspended in the suffocating dark.
The last thing he saw was Selene’s twisted grin, the smirk of a predator savoring the mont before the kill.
The black abyss around him pulsed, tightening like a cocoon.
His limbs refused to move—his holy aura flickering, dimming.
He tried to summon a prayer, but his breath hitched as the air grew thick, humid, foul.
A whisper.
Soft.
Sweet.
Poisonous.
“You should have left well enough alone, little knight.”
The shadows peeled away like withered flesh, revealing Selene Nocturna standing before him.
Her golden hair clung to her damp skin, streaked with blood and decay.
A gleam of amusent danced in her eyes, but sothing deeper lurked beneath—a hunger, an amusent laced with cruelty.
He forced his voice steady.
“You will not break .”
Selene chuckled.
A slow, indulgent sound.
“Oh, but I don’t need to break you.
I just need to… weave you.”
She extended her fingers, and from her nails, long, silken threads unfurled—dripping with sothing thick and black.
They moved like living veins, creeping toward him, wrapping around his wrists, his throat, his jaw.
The paladin choked, the threads slithering beneath his armor, sinking into his skin.
His holy sigil flickered as the corruption seeped in.
“You burn so brightly,” she purred, stepping closer.
“But fire can be smothered.
I wonder… how long until yours goes out?”
He gritted his teeth, fighting the numbing pull, but his limbs felt heavier.
Selene leaned in, her breath cold against his ear.
“You’re already mine.”
The paladin’s vision blurred.
The darkness around them twisted, shifting like breathing walls.
A pulse beat in his skull, slow, steady, matching the rhythm of the Widow’s voice.
Then he saw it.
The Web.
A massive, endless tapestry of flesh and sinew, pulsing and writhing, stretching across the void.
Thousands of souls, trapped—woven into the silk.
Their faces twisted in silent screams, their hands reaching for salvation that would never co.
And at the center… Selene.
She stood, her arms outstretched, her body entwined in the web like a dark goddess.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she whispered.
The paladin’s heart pounded.
He tried to resist, but the threads tightened—dragging him toward the web.
He saw his own reflection in the strands.
His face.
Already changing.
Selene’s laughter echoed, soft and victorious.
“Hush now, little knight.”
Her fingers caressed his face, her voice a velvet promise of eternity.
“Sleep.”
The threads consud him.
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