The Revenge of Crazy-Legs
The Revenge of Crazy-Legs
Queen Chrysalis awoke. Immediately there was a flash of bright purple in her mind, which was the last thing she remembered. The changeling suddenly recalled a humiliating defeat, in which love, her own food source, had been used against her. Chrysalis groaned miserably, more out of embarrassment than of pain. It suddenly occurred to her that she wasn’t feeling very much pain considering the distance she had been thrown. In fact, she wasn’t feeling any pain at all, aside from a dull throbbing in her neck. The queen’s eyes fluttered open weakly to see what had spared her from a broken body.
“Oh goody, you’re awake.” Chrysalis found herself looking into eight big, reddish eyes. They were set in clusters of four on a malformed head covered in bristly black hairs. A wide mouth filled with yellowed fangs grinned at her, each side bordered by a claw-like protrusion. A crinkled top-hat sat crooked on top the monstrous head in an almost comical manner. Upon laying her eyes on this awful horror, Chrysalis tried to scream. But what came out was a loud gurgle, and shortly afterwards a small waterfall of drool came dripping down her chin.
“Oh, shush now,” said the creature, its wicked grin growing larger, “Screaming will do no good.” Chrysalis now became aware that she couldn’t feel anything. Her whole body was numb, as if it had been drugged. It was only when she managed to swivel her eyes that she realized she was wrapped tightly in a gargantuan spider web suspended by dark, twisted trees. The monarch let out a terrified squeal that sounded more like a muffled whine. If there was one thing that she was afraid of, it was spiders. She looked back ahead. Now she saw the monster in its entirety. It was a spindly spider of impossible proportions, its long legs dangling beneath an oval body. It was covered completely in bristly spines, adding to its already abhorrent appearance.
“Well, my changeling queen,” the spider said in its raspy voice, “I thank you for dropping by my humble abode. I’ve been terribly lonely since your kind exterminated my species.” Chrysalis’s jaw dropped open in shock and terror. It couldn’t be. Her hunters had made sure that every single last one of them were dead. The spider reached out with an appalling claw and shut her mouth.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s all water under the bridge. After all, I have you now, and that’s all that matters.” The arachnid reached out with two of its spiky appendages and plucked the cocooned queen from the web. She made an attempt to writhe as she was brought even closer to the creature’s mortifying face.
“Hmm,” he murmured as he tenderly poked her, “You’re quite thin for someone with such a gluttonous appetite. Mares would kill for your metabolism. I suppose it’s fitting, though, seeing as I wasn’t planning on eating you.” Chrysalis’s eyes went wide with terror as she heard this. She cringed, letting out another gurgle.
“What am I going to do to you?” the spider asked, apparently able to decipher her garbled speech, “Well, you have quite a debt to pay for wiping out my friends and family. It wouldn’t be cruel enough for me to kill you, and you wouldn’t be able to feel any pain until my venom wears off. So, I decided a long time ago what I would do if I ever found you in my web. That’s exactly where you landed, by the way. Right smack dab in the middle. Oh, by the way, you lost this in the fall.” The spider held up something that looked like a black, twisted root. The changeling queen’s pupils shrank into pinpricks as she realized what it was.
Before she could fully react to the loss of her horn, Chrysalis felt a sickle-like talon slice down the length of her cocoon, freeing her body. It fell, limp as a rag doll, into the spider’s waiting claws. Quick as a flash she felt her limbs being stretched out as the spear-like legs of the spider wove in-between them like lightning.
“Do you have a hobby?” asked the spider as he tied long, silken strands of web around her joints, “I have one that I think you’ll find delightful. I’ve entertained many of my meals before their deaths. It’s only fair, I suppose, that they get one last thrill before dying.” Tears formed in Chrysalis’s eyes as she was flipped over. She was just now realizing what was happening to her, and found it infinitely more humiliating than her defeat just a day earlier.
“Finished,” said the spider, “Walla. Oh, we’re going to have so much fun, you and I. Come, the audience awaits us.” The changeling bowed her head in misery at the mentioning of an audience.
When she looked back up, she was gazing into a small clearing lit by a variety of rusted lanterns. In the bordering trees were several more enormous webs, each one containing dozens of cocoons. With horror, Chrysalis realized that most of them contained freshly caught changelings, each one looking around with frightened, desperate eyes. Others held the bleached bones of ponies, griffins, and whatever else had been unfortunate to walk into the spider’s clutches. The webs were centered so that they faced a pair of towering oak trees, where the spider had woven a bridge of silk between the stretching boughs. It was on this structure that the spider had positioned itself, carrying Chrysalis in one if its freakish legs.
“Ladies and Gentle-colts,” the spider called out, “Boys and girls! Thank you for attending Professor Crazy-legs’ Puppet Theater! We have a wonderful show for you tonight!” He paused and bowed, as if taking in applause. It was now made evident to Chrysalis that he was completely mad. She managed to look over at his face. Everything screamed of insanity, the twinkle in his eyes, the massive grin, even the erratic nature of his movement.
“Now then, kiddies,” chuckled the spider, “Are you ready for tonight’s special guest?” Chrysalis was suddenly dropped to the ground below. Her body came to a sudden stop at the last second, stopped by the strings that had been fastened around her person. The live members of the audience buzzed and shrieked despairingly. The sight of their queen in the spider’s terrible grasp dashed any of their hopes that they would be rescued.
“Allow me to introduce the newest member of the cast, Chrysalis, the murderous queen!” The changeling queen managed to glance up at the spider-turned-puppeteer clutching the wooden manipulator that now controlled her movements in his front leg.
“Why don’t you show them a dance, your majesty?” cackled the mad spider. The world seemed to bob up and down as Chrysalis was involuntarily yanked about, her hooves glancing off the forest floor as a loud, shrieking music filled the air. The spider grinned down at her as he played a battered, off-tune violin with his back legs. The horrid sound grated against the audience’s ears as they writhed at the tortuous sound. Chrysalis continued to whirl stupidly about between the oak trees, her line of vision alternating between the weeping audience and her daft captor.
“Well it looks like you need a partner, your majesty,” said the spider, “You look quite silly dancing by yourself.” He looked out at the changelings with a manic grin. “Don’t you agree, kiddies?” Chrysalis was suddenly joined by another puppet. The changeling’s eyes widened as she found herself looking into the pale muzzle of a pony’s skull. It was a full skeleton, its joints stuck together by webbing, dressed in a threadbare, motley tunic and cap, its fringed edges trimmed with bells. The queen noticed that it had a large club carved from a manticore’s femur tied to its right hoof.
“Uh oh,” quipped the spider, “It’s Mr. Punch! Mr. Punch, what are you doing down there?” The macabre puppet looked up, and the spider made a series of intelligible screeches as he moved the head up and down.
“You want to dance with the queen? Well, I’m not sure.” Again, he made the puppet reply in a horrible stream of shrieks. “Oh, I guess so. Just don’t be cheeky, or I’ll have to get your wife.” Chrysalis moaned dejectedly as she was forced to embrace the bony corpse. Her chin brushed against its chin, but she never felt it. Together they began to waltz back and forth around the clearing, the skeleton clacking, creaking and jingling as Chrysalis wept in embarrassment.
“I see that Chrysalis is an excellent dancer. Don’t you think so, Mr. Punch?” Chrysalis winced as the spider made the horrid screeches again. He then let out a loud gasp. “Watch your tongue, Mr. Punch!” he chided, “You can’t say that in front of the children!” The puppet shook his club threateningly at the spider, shrieking in challenge. Suddenly there was a series of high-pitched squeals. Chrysalis glanced over to see another puppet enter the clearing; a mare’s skeleton in a clownish dress, the remains of a curly mane bouncing beneath her bonnet as she trotted over to the pair of dancers.
“Now you’ve done it, Mr. Punch,” sighed the spider, “You’ve made Judy upset.” The female puppet responded by pointing a bony club of its own at Chrysalis. The spider smiled and gasped.
“My, Judy, you aren't jealous, are you?” The puppet snarled angrily and suddenly began beating Chrysalis. Because she was numb, Chrysalis didn’t feel any of the blows. She was only vaguely aware of her body swinging about as it was battered by the enraged puppet. There was a screech as the male puppet swung his club at his wife, and the two broke away from Chrysalis in a furious exchange of blows, swinging their weapons faster and faster.
“Oh, come now,” huffed the spider as he pulled them apart, “You’re married, for god’s sake. Think of your child!” On queue, a third puppet descended into the wife’s arms. Chrysalis’s eyes widened. Like herself, this puppet was still very much alive. Bound up in tight blankets, the blue unicorn mare looked out miserably with magenta eyes, her silver hair wildly askew.
“Ain’t she lovely?” cackled the puppeteer, “Her parents just love her to death.” Both the husband and wife lovingly wrapped their forelegs around their surragate child, whose moans of despair were muffled by the gag wrapped around her mouth. Chrysalis stared in horror at the discontent creature, realizing that a similar fate awaited her. The changeling was awash with mindless panic, willing with all her might for her wings to work. They feebly twitched like a bird with a broken wing.
“Well it looks like it’s time for Queen Chrysalis to go,” the spider said, “Say goodbye, boys and girls!” Chrysalis was suddenly yanked into the air, swinging wildy about before ascending up to hang beside the mad spider. He grinned at her as he pulled her close.
“Improvisation,” he beamed, “Marvelous. You were born for the stage, my dear.” He hung her manipulater in a tree besides dozens of puppets, each one crafted from a skeleton. “Rest up now. We’ve got another big show for tomorrow.”
