of the Spider Prologue
slept in the dark prison they had placed him in and dreamed. From
time to time one of his eight legs would twitch. They had trapped
him thirty years ago, here in his home, behind the brick wall in
a cage. The cage was made of thick wire mesh and offered very
little room for him to maneuver. He had tried for the first two
years to escape back into the world of humanity, but each attempt
was another failure. He cursed them, the four that had done this
to him. He swore if he ever escaped this confinement they would
pay with their lives. The woman he had fancied himself in love
with would suffer most. He rubbed his two front legs together
"Claire," he spat her name, "Claire Newborn you will be last and
I will kill you slowly."
The other three he would take great measures insuring that they
too would cry for mercy before he killed them. Bill Albright, Tim
Newton, and Chester Cunningham those were his captors' names. If
a hundred years went by he would not forget their names or how
had made an error in judgment when he let Claire see his true
visage. He knew that now. She had been horrified. He remembered
well the look of terror on her face as he transformed into the
monster she had called him. He had been wise in not telling her
how he sustained his longevity. He was sure she would not have
understood his need for blood to survive.
There was little to feed on behind the brick wall. From time to
time some unfortunate bug or a rat would venture too close; he
would bite them and then glut himself. He grew weary of being
hungry more times then he was full so he had put himself into
this state of suspended animation and fantasized of one day
extracting his revenge on those who had placed him here. He would
have felt differently if they had not been his friends and if
Claire had not chosen Bill Albright over him. He had made the
error of revealing his true shape to Claire and she in a panic
had told the others. Claire had used her charms and tricked him
so the others could subdue him and place him in the tiny prison
he now resided in. What a fool he had been. He should have killed
them all when he had a chance.
one day he would be free again to feed fully, he thought to
himself. For now he would rest and wait for his chance. He had
the time and surely somehow an opportunity would present itself.
He stretched as far as he could in his prison and slumbered on.
He hoped his day of emancipation would come soon.
I wait here in the corner
of the web I've spun for thee.
I watch with these hungry eyes.
Here I lie in wait, impatiently.
Concentrating on my trap
till some unfortunate lands
among the silken chords
I made with these eight hands.
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