In the next moment, I found myself hanging upside down from the ceiling like a cocoon, a strange, purple webbing wrapped firmly around my ankles.
“Tara!” said Bart, stepping inside and looking up at me. “Tara, are you okay? What happened?”
“I don’t know,” I said, looking in bewilderment at the strange purple webbing which was slowly but surely moving down my ankles to my knees. “I just stepped on something and then I somehow got pulled up here. Like someone set a t—”
I was interrupted by a screeching sound below, following by a long stream of webbing shooting out of the darkness of the house toward Bart. The webbing struck Bart in the chest and yanked him forward, but he grabbed the door jamb at the last second and held his ground. But he had to hold the door jam with both hands, clutch
