Prescot would ask himself later why he had not reacted more quickly and would never forgive himself

“What the…?” It was the last thing Jon said before he was screaming and being dragged towards the mat by the vines which silent and undetected had coiled around his ankle.

He was pulled slowly back onto the mat, along which the creatures were now swarming. They scuttled out from the sides of the bowl. They were almost silent as the vines as they moved, insectoid. It was difficult to see their features clearly as they tumbled over each other but Prescot was able to make out shiny red bodies and wide purple mouths punctuated with four scythe-like fangs. It was all the information he needed.

Prescot grabbed Jon’s wrists, pulling hard and succeeded in dragging him back a little way. This seemed to confuse the creatures and they stopped. They began to sway and chitter. Jon kicked frantically and clawed at the vines, his hands covered in the slimy sap which had started to ooze from them. Getting a purchase on them was impossible. He was sitting up now watching the edges of the mat as he furiously tried to loosen the grip the vine had on his leg.

He let go of Prescot’s hands as he tried desperately to break free. Prescot reached instinctively for his gun, hoping the sound might distract the creatures, only to remember that it has slipped out onto the bank. As he moved towards it, releasing his grip, Jon was pulled further from the edge. He dropped to his knees again, holding Jon with one arm and clawing at the vines around Jon’s legs with his free hand, but it was hopeless.

Prescot felt the sap burning his hands and let go again with cry, wiping it away on his flight jacket. He threw the jacket around his hands and pulled. As soon as he was able to prize one coil away, another would tighten its grip, burning into his skin. Jon cried out in pain as the sap ate through his trouser fabric and Prescot saw the panic in his eyes. Prescot caught more tendrils moving towards them both.

“Go!” Jon insisted, his face contorted.

“Shut up and pull!” Prescot replied, refusing to leave him.

He was aware that the noise had stopped. Prescot looked up. With the silence came the creature. It emerged from the nest and was edging its way, crab-like, towards them slowly, as if uncertain of its prey. Diamond plates covered its back and ended in a short, barbed tail. It moved cautiously, but that did not trouble Prescot. The look in its multifaceted eyes did. It weighed him up as an opponent with a malevolent intelligence far more insightful than he expected.

It circled them deliberately, hissing as it did so. He could feel the fear in Jon, he could smell it and the creature seemed to sense that. It was toying with him, enjoying the hunt.

Prescot tried to kick it away and it hissed menacingly but continued to circle Jon. Suddenly, it leapt onto his leg and sank its fangs in. Jon screamed but even before his scream ended, Prescot watched him go limp, his eyes glazed, staring. There was nothing else he could do. He pulled himself away from the creatures as the vines continued to drag Jon’s now lifeless body towards the mass.

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