The Spider (Fiction)

1

Carl smiled at the creature slowly crawling across his arm, each movement of its eight legs more delicate than the last. It was hardly the prettiest of arachnids, as far as spiders went. Its color a motley mix of grey and black, it looked almost like a piece of mold given a will of its own. Its bulbous abdomen bobbed up and down slightly as it moved and the tiny legs around its mouth twitched about it an eerie manner, almost too smoothly. Its eight eyes glistened, each one a tiny orb of obsidian. It was ugly, small, and carnivorous. It wasn’t hard to see why such animals repulsed so many people.

Carl was not one of those people. The spindly legs tickled his skin, and he let out a little laugh at the sensation. The tiny creature paused at his elbow and rotated ponderously, never exerting more effort then was required. That was part of why Carl loved spiders so much, as well as most predators, in fact. They never wasted energy or took an action that wasn’t carefully decided upon beforehand. The spider eventually decided to go back the way it came, deeming that going any further would not lead to food or shelter. Respecting its wishes, Carl leaned down and lowered his hand to where he had found it earlier, a little crevasse in the wall lined with a thick layer of web. The spider stepped off his arm and descended into its lair without so much as an acknowledgment.

“And so I bid you adieu, my lady Arachne,” Carl said with a smile on his face. Turning away from the spider’s lair, he walked down the street to his date.

2

Carl put on his best shit-eating grin as he slammed yet another empty shot on the table. Around him, people stared in wide-eyed amazement, murmuring amongst themselves about his greatness no doubt. Eight empty shots sat before him, each one a grand monument to his prowess at shoving alcohol down his throat. Across the table from him sat his worthy opponent, who glared at him behind his paltry seven shots.

“Well, well, well, well… well,” slurred Carl, “Wus it gonna be, ol’ buddy ol’ pal? You gonna beat me like a man, or are you a… a pussy?” He whispered the last word out in an almost reverential tone, the effect somewhat undercut by the saliva that sloshed out with every attempt at speech. Thankfully, his rival was similarly inebriated and therefore fully felt the intended insult to his honor.

“Give it heeyuh!” Max commanded, swinging his open hand over to the less-than-amused waitress. She carefully gave him another shot, which brimmed with golden liquid that shimmered like the nectar of the gods that it was. Without a second thought, Max gulped it down immediately and violently thrust the now-empty glass down on the table. “Betchu can’t do anymore… bitch!” Max said, his alcohol-stained voice filled with bravado.

Carl gulped dramatically, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His inebriated mind calculated whether or not he could take another shot, before wandering off to thoughts of Taco Bell. They did have that new Doritos Locos Tacos deal… ‘No!’ his mind screamed. ‘Focus! You’ve already beaten the Anansi challenge, but you’ll be damned if you let Max beat you now!’

“Damn straight!” Carl shouted, much to the confusion of the bar-goers. “Wait… I mean, yeah I can!” The waitress sighed, clearly finding their witty repartee to be somewhat lacking, but handed Carl another shot regardless. Carl did his best to make of a show of taking the shot, which amounted to him almost barely missing his mouth and shoving the shot in his eye with an attempted flourish. It was perhaps by sheer luck alone that all of the alcohol managed to get into his mouth at all.

Swelling with pride, he stood up and raised both fists in the air, bellowing in triumph. And then he fell, already unconscious by the time he hit the hardwood floor.

3

Minerva walked through the parking garage, her footsteps echoing off of the empty concrete halls. Over her head was an empty black sky, the stars obscured by the smog of the city. She felt a slight chill as an autumnal breeze wisped around her body, and she wrapped her jacket around her even tighter. Brushing away her auburn locks from her eyes, she silently cursed herself for taking the late shift again after she’d already told Rory twice already-

A high-pitched scream, which was almost positively girly and steadily getting louder, interrupted her internal rant, followed by the dull thud of an impact behind her. Her heart racing, Minerva spun around and gasped. Where there had once been flat concrete was now a human-sized crater roughly two inches into the floor, with cracks spreading dangerously along the perimeter of the crater. A man lay face down on the ground, groaning and muttering something into the ground. With a rough push he flipped himself over onto his back, revealing a face that was only slightly bruised. He blinked his blue eyes heavily and tilted his head back, seeing a flabbergasted and slack-jawed Minerva for the first time.

“Um,” he started, “I can explain.” He paused for a moment, and then continued. “But only over coffee.”

4

Carl scratched the back of his head nervously. “So, uh, yeah. That’s it.”

“So, you’re Spider-Man.” Anne said matter-of-factly, as she cut into her pancakes.

“Not… quite,” Carl said, fidgeting with his hands on the table, ignoring his own plate of pancakes. “It doesn’t… feel like that. That’s really the best way to describe it. I don’t have the same powers. Like, I’m not gonna go web-slinging or whatever.”

“Mhm,” Anne thoughtfully said with a mouthful of pancakes.

“I can jump pretty far, like several football fields far. And my body is conveniently tough enough to handle the landing.” Carl continued, “And I can camouflage myself if I sit in one place for long enough, not exactly invisible but-“

“Okay, enough,” Anne interrupted, “It was a little funny at first, but now this is just getting stupid. I love you, big bro, but there’s… no… way…”

Staring back at her were eight black orbs, each gleaming with reflected light. The two largest were where Carl’s eyes had been, and the rest, slightly smaller, lined his eyebrows and cheeks. Seeing what were undoubtedly eyes that belonged to a spider on a human’s face triggered some primal fear deep within her mind, causing her breathing to get ragged and her palms to sweat.

“Oh god…” she whispered. “Carl…”

He looked down, shame plain on his face. His many eyes slowly disappeared, sinking into his skin, until only the original two remained, which shifted in color back to his normal brown.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, “I knew you wouldn’t believe me unless I did something. There’s one more thing, though. I feel

5

Hungry. Body quivers in anticipation. Web is strong. Prey is weak. Darkness is strength. Light is weakness.

The web is the world, stretching beyond and into the emptiness from which prey enters. Strange smells and strange sounds emanate from the emptiness. They are unimportant. Prey is important.

Web shudders. Prey cries out, bleating for help. There is no help. Only hunger.

6

Carl smiled down at the tiny leaping spider that had elected to land on his bench. The arachnid was no bigger than the nail of his pinky finger, and it stared up at him with cartoonishly large black eyes. In Carl’s mind, he imagined it speaking to him in a meek child’s soft voice.

hope you don’t mind the company

“Not at all, friend,” Carl said aloud. There was no nearby in the park that night, so he figured he might as well have some fun to pass the time. “My date appears to be late, so having you around might help my crippling separation anxiety.” He laughed a little at his own joke.

happy to help out

So the man and the spider sat there, together, on the bench for quite some time. The sound of birds was replaced by the sound of crickets and the sky began to darken, enveloping the world in twilight. Little yellow lights started to wink in and out of existence in between the trees as the fireflies began their nightly dance. Far off in the distance, the cacophony of the city could still be heard, a disjointed symphony of cars, machines, and people all vying for attention and space.

After what felt like ages, Carl sighed and said, “Looks like she’s a no-show. Oh well. I appreciated the company though, little friend. I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime.”

anytime friend

With a push of its legs, the spider leapt into the bushes, instantly vanishing in the darkness. Carl blinked in confusion and scratched the back of his head. After deciding it was best not to think too much about it, he shrugged, stood up, and made his way out of the park.

7

Ten years ago, Carl and Anne were fishing by the side of a lake when Carl spotted something peculiar. He leaned down to the edge of the water, staring at a bubble that sat just below the surface, quivering at his breath. Within the bubble was a spider, its eight legs pushing against the sides of the bubble. Carl began to wonder just what a spider was doing underwater when something pushed heavily against his back, sending him crashing into the water. He squealed and thrashed in the mucky water, curiosity quickly forgotten. At the lake’s edge, Anne was laughing, up until big, rough hands scooped her up and tossed her into the lake as well. Her screams were met with a deep throaty chuckle from their father.

Five years ago, Carl and Max were exploring Max’s old attic. A thick layer of dust covered rows of boxes, with spider webs interlaced between the gaps, like bridges over canyons. Carl waded through the webs that crumbled and folded before him, heading to a dark corner of the attic. After spying what he was looking for, he knelt down and grabbed it, careful not to disturb the webbing that was at least two inches thick around it. He showed Max what he’d found, and his friend grinned.

Two years ago, Carl and Minerva were at a pizza joint for dinner. Despite the restaurant’s unnaturally high spider infestation, the food was actually very good. Carl was failing to eat said food, however, as he kept trying to rip off the dangling bits of cheese on a slice of pizza but, much to his chagrin, more and more cheese continued to drip down. He lamented to Minerva that life was a constant struggle, to which she solemnly agreed, at which point they both laughed.

One hour ago, Carl was watching a British man drone on about the mating habits of spiders. He fell asleep ten minutes in.

8

Carl jumped out of the airplane, noticeably without a parachute. Max rolled his eyes and followed him out, leaping into the empty air thousands of feet above the ground. Wind whipped and lashed at his body, but Max ignored the feeling of his descent. Not far below him was Carl, howling like a maniac and cackling with glee.

When it came time, Max activated his parachute. Carl, on the other hand, spun in the air rapidly, twirling so fast that he was almost a blur. Thick transparent strings shot out from his twisting body, wrapping around themselves until they formed a wide rectangle. The makeshift parachute caught in the air, slowing Carl’s fall down considerably. Max just stared at him in disbelief.

“That breaks at least ten laws of nature,” he muttered.

9

Prey bites. Hurts. Rage breaks the cold hunger. Many prey now, circling around and yelling a word, somehow important.

10

Carl checks his watch again and frowns. The rain is starting to get heavier. He decides to go home earlier than usual. He worries about a friend of his.

11

The baby giggled as he dangled from the ceiling by a thin strand of webbing that came out of his little pink butt. He squealed with delight as he swung about, using his six pudgy arms to swing faster. Carl and Minerva looked at the baby, then at each other, then at the baby again.

“So yeah,” Carl profoundly stated.

12

So much blood. So much dead prey. Hear their death cries, smell their fear and despair, see their rich blood flowing on the earth. But cannot feed. Prey still fighting. Hurts. Legs failing, tiring. Body bleeding. Everything hurts.

No longer hungry. Only afraid.

13

Taylor waved her magic wand at Carl, shouting “Princess Spider powers go!” Carl yelped and clutched his heart, dramatically falling to the ground. Taylor giggled and jumped on top of him, bouncing off of his chest. “Yay, I beat Daddy!” she cheered.

A little grey blur then tackled her, sending them both crashing to the ground. Carl looked up to see Taylor rapidly changing, two sets of arms bursting out of the sides of her frilly pink dress and six eyes opening over her face as she faced her challenger.

He was a mirror image of her, save for two tiny fangs jutting out of his mouth and the pirate outfit he wore, which had an eye patch covering at least four of his beady little eyes.

“Yaargh!” yelled Jack, “I’ve come to steal the Princess’ treasure!”

An epic clash ensued.

14

It… It couldn’t have been real. But there it was, ripping good men to shreds left and right. God… there was so much blood. Oh God…

No, no, I’m fine, I just need a minute. Okay. I’m good. Yeah.

It was big, at least the size of an SUV. The bottom part of it was like a spider, huge and hairy and spiky. It had six legs, each easily as thick as my body. They moved so damn quickly, I could barely see them. I guess that helped; the damn monster was moving too quickly for me to get a good luck at most of it. But I did see the upper part, all too well. Two spindly arms, ending in huge claws that looked like scythes, like the goddamn Grim Reaper or something.

But the worst part was its face. Its mouth was a disgusting mess of human teeth and enormous fangs. Blood and gore slipped through its jaws like a fucking waterfall… Christ… Oh God, I see its eyes now. All eight of them. Some were black, too black, and others were red, a foul red that looked too much like… I heard once that spiders were supposed to be cold, calculating predators, but this… It was just so… enraged. It roared in my face, blood and spit falling all over my face, that god awful smell of rot… I screamed his name. It was all I could do. I think it hesitated, for a second, then someone shot it in the back, and it screeched and bounded after the poor bastard who shot it.

It couldn’t have been real. It couldn’t have been him. Jesus. I played baseball with him! I drank with him! What the hell happened to him?! Wait… who are those guys? And why do you have that needle?

15

Cold. Hungry. Empty walls, bound by prey’s web. Prey watches. Prey pokes and bites. Hurts. Prey says a word. Word has meaning. Unsure of meaning. So cold. So hungry. Word is

Carl knelt down to the crevasse in the wall, peering into the soaked crack. Around him the storm raged, a torrential downpour battering at his umbrella. He frowned when he saw the drenched webbing, what was left of it, barely clinging to the cement. Carl almost gave up until he noticed a tiny grey leg peaking out of the crack. Smiling, he grabbed a damp twig and stuck into the hole. Miraculously, the leg latched on, and he pulled the twig out, revealing a familiar mottled creature desperately clinging to the twig for dear life.

“Hey there, Arachne,” Carl said in a tone usually reserved for little children, “Looks like you need to dry off. Let’s go someplace warmer.”

A short time later, Carl sat near the fireplace, sipping on a hot cup of hot cocoa. The spider, still attached to the twig, sat close to the fire. It stared at the dancing flames with its many black eyes. After a while, it tentatively stepped off of the twig and marched to the edge of the fireplace, finding a dark corner that was still close to the warmth. It began to weave its web, creating a tapestry that was perfectly half in the shadows and half in the flickering light. Satisfied, it placed itself at the center of the web and waited.