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This was no Harry and his backseat pet, and I was only partly stitched.
But self-preservation had long been trained out of me.
Sacrifice.
Protect.
Kill.
I dashed forward, tripped over a root, but kept going, running past the bewildered Zara. If the knife had been in her hand, I would’ve snatched it.
Spiders came my way, dangling in the night, little legs wriggling. Only thing worse would’ve been a cockroach monster. Definitely this was karma for that earlier kidnapper-spider analogy.
Close-up I could hear a scratching noise, as if those legs rubbed on each other, or her teeth and proboscises were sharpening themselves.
EIGHT SPIDERS-A-DANGLING.
Shut the fuck up.
My first instinct was to tear my Taurus from the holster and blast away. It would do nothing. I knew this. I knew this because the Darkness laughed even as I thought it.
A palm-sized spider came close enough for my fear to overcome disgust. I grabbed it and tried to pluck it from the leg from which it hung. Nothing tore and the spider wriggled in my hand, biting at me with fire-hot fangs. The leg ripped back toward her, and the spider went with it, wrenching free from my hands.
When two more legs wrapped across my back and dragged me, with my boot heels scuffing in the dirt, the encyclopedia entry popped up.She liked to wrap her victims in her silken web and drag them into water to drown them.No one knew what happened after that.
SHE WAITS FOR THEM TO DECOMPOSE AND THEN SHE EATS THEIR SOFTENED FLESH. ISN’T SHE BEAUTIFUL?
“Fuck off.” To everything and everybody.
Already fine black threads wove about my body, zigzagging up my face.
Spider silk.
I spat some from my mouth but it was getting everywhere—my nostrils itched and I told myself it was just in my head when it burned in my lungs.
Thrashing in the string of the Jorogumo’s embrace, I looked up into her pretty, gray, grotesque face—pouting lips echoed the red of her kimono.
She tilted her head as if she was flirting with me.
Tendrils of her lust enveloped me.
Wove through me.
Threaded down the length of my hardening cock.
Cables becoming steel.
My breath rasped, my body feeling too tight in my skin.
More silken threads fluttered past. Behind me screams started to muffle as silk wound across my ears, my nose. Tighter. Snugger.
Bound.
I breathed through my mouth, hands clasping and unclasping uselessly at my sides—striving to do something. Anything. I was being locked down, second by scratching second.
The scratch came from her fangs, inches away, opening and closing, threatening to fasten on my throat or face.
The world tilted as she moved over me and lowered me earthward. Through the silk and my clothes, I could barely feel the spikes of sticks and points of rocks.
