“Oh please dearie! Don’t go!”, the old crone pleads as she advances closer to Karmilla, hands outstretched.
Quickly darting away from her grasping fingers, Karmilla tries to keep smiling at the creepy old lady even as she backs away, excusing herself. The old crone seems to be growing, becoming scarier before her very eyes, so the younger, inexperienced Karmilla breaks into a full run away from the witch, off the trail and into the woods, with the old lady in pursuit, calling out for her to stay and be her guest in an increasingly menacing tone.
Long-legged and agile, Karmilla initially seems to leave the hag behind her, as she can hear her calls recede into the distance. However, a thick mist rolls in and the sounds in the woods she suddenly finds herself lost in begin to echo and fade in and out, becoming almost frighteningly loud at times, then almost muffled, so that she can’t even hear her footsteps. Judging at least some of what she’s experiencing to be spell-work, Karmilla attempts to cast some protective spells as the dense forest gets increasingly foggy all around her.
Suddenly, as if she blinked onto the scene from nowhere, the old witch is right in front of Karmilla, looking crazy-eyed as she instantly begins tickling her entire exposed midsection, ruining a spell Karmilla was whispering. Karmilla shrieks with laughter and instantly flees the insane old biddy again, running as fast in the opposite direction into the mist as her sturdy boots will take her.
Karmilla runs and runs, and doesn’t stop running away into the foggy, troll-infested hills, away from the old crone intent on touching her smooth, flawless belly with those gnarled old fingers.
Suddenly, Karmilla slips on a mossy rock near a creek and falls off the trail, landing in free fall onto some sort of sticky net of some kind, dangling at a slight degree over a small, dark crevice. Screaming, she tumbles down, landing trapped on her back, her arms and legs splayed in four directions, as the line still reverberates with the sudden impact from above.
Fighting the sticky bindings seems to only make matters worse, so Karmilla takes a moment to try to gather herself. She is dangling splayed out across a sticky mass of rope-thick silky strands over a dark vale. “This is NOT provident”, thinks the arachnophobic young witch, “Okay, I’ll just conjure up an unbinding spell to counter this trap. If that doesn’t work, perhaps more of a slippery magical trick to free myself from this awful web”.
Then, Karmilla feels a tension on the web above her. She looks up and screams in terror at the ugly, big-bellied black spider appearing from the rocks. It’s the size of a hog, with eight looong spindly legs…and the face of the ugly old witch glaring all green down at her!
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