Last Arachne (Part 1) (Patreon)

Hey all!

So this will be the side story I write for a few months. It won't be nearly as long as HFHM, but it will be long enough that I can't get it all out in one go.

My love for spider girls goes back to the Underdark, and was exacerbated by Monster Musume. And for those of you wondering "Why on Earth would you write about an Arachne?" it was a Patron poll from forever ago.

Last Arachne will always be the third post of the month, so if you super hate spiders, adjust your pledges accordingly :P

This story will start slow and heat up pretty quickly (once you finish reading, you will understand). Last Arachne, when finished, will also become an ebook available for sale, but I will have it as a reward for loyal patrons.

I am open to feedback on this. I am writing in a time period from before I was born, so let me know if you spot something that doesn't sync up with "the good ol' days."

Matty’s Diner - Summer 1973

Darren walked with a noticeable limp, just one of many souvenirs from a war he couldn’t quite leave behind. It was only a short distance from the bus stop to Matty's Diner - he was absolutely famished and was hoping the wait staff would be friendly enough for the trip to be worth it. He could feel eyes on him, the locals immediately suspicious of the large duffel bag and military fatigues he wore. He didn't bother challenging their stares, keeping his eyes on the dusty looking building with a hand-written sign that promised ‘fresh pie!’

Besides, the worst they could do was run him out of town. Wouldn’t be the first time.

The bell over the door rang when he opened it, but nobody in the diner seemed to pay it any attention. The wait staff bustled about, serving hot meals to families still wearing their Sunday best. On a chalkboard above the kitchen, the Sunrise Special was a bargain at less than 3 bucks a head, and came with a sizzling side of bacon and bottomless coffee. Matty's Special was a large 1/2 pound burger with hot sauce and some onion rings on the side. Darren’s mind went back and forth between the two, and the limited amount of cash in his pocket. Which would keep him full for longer?

"Take a seat anywhere." A passing waitress told him, casting an eye in his direction just long enough to avoid hitting him with her tray. "Hannah will be with you shortly."

Darren nodded, walking along the wall to an empty booth at the end. He sat down on the soft fabric, noting that a split in the cushions revealed the rubbery yellow foam inside. A couple of younger kids stared at him from their tables, their food instantly forgotten. Hushed reprisals from their parents did little to stifle their curiosity, but harsher tones did get them to return to their meals.

"What can I get ya?" Hannah appeared as if by magic, her eyes fixed on a small yellow notepad. She was in her mid-forties, her white and yellow uniform faded by hundreds of washes. Darren stared at an old ketchup stain on her apron, wondering if it was older than he was.

"Sunrise Special," Darren told her, pulling out a wadded fiver. He set it on the table then stuck his hand back in his pocket. There were only a couple of bills in there now, and he really hoped they weren’t a pair of Washingtons.

"How do you want your eggs?"

"Scrambled." Darren tugged on his duffel bag, pulling it farther under the table. He used to love his eggs fried, but couldn’t eat them if they were too runny.

"Coffee?"

"Black."

"Got it." Hannah vanished, returning a second later with a slightly chipped mug and a pot of coffee. She poured it, the faint aroma of hazelnut drifting across the table to tickle Darren's nose. She slid it toward him along with a small plate of toast. "You look hungry. This will get you through until your order is up.."

"Thank you." Darren held the mug in both hands, letting the heat seep into his knuckles. He never used to like coffee, had never touched it before Vietnam. The smell of it transported him to those early morning patrols, time spent with Little Mike, Dwayne, and Garrett. It was the calm before the storm, a moment of silence in a world that had become too loud. Closing his eyes, he could almost smell the jungle around the edges of his memory, hear Dwayne teasing Little Mike about his height.

Naturally, Little Mike had been nearly seven feet tall.

"Good morning son." He wore a light brown jacket with a star pinned to the outside, hitching his belt up before sliding into the space across from Darren. Lost in thought, Darren hadn’t even seen him walk up to the table.

"Morning sheriff." Darren kept his eyes on his coffee. This conversation rarely went well, so the less he said the better. He had learned six months ago not to lose his temper with the law. On the plus side, the couple of days in lockup had saved him some money.

"Got word that a soldier came in on the nine o'clock, so thought I would take a peek." He offered his hand. "Sheriff Walters. Mind if I join you?"

Darren took his hand and gave a firm squeeze. "Darren. It’s your town sheriff, sit where you like."

"You just get out of the service Darren?" Sheriff Walters leaned back in his booth, giving Darren's duffel bag a gentle poke with his shoe.

"Ten months ago, sir." Darren sipped his coffee, staring out the window. He fought the urge to move his bag away from the sheriff. He didn’t like his stuff being messed with.

"That's a long time to be headed somewhere, isn't it?" Walters was handed a cup of coffee. "Thanks Hannah." He took a sip and sighed. "So are you just passing through, or looking to settle?"

"Leaving as soon as I finish eating." Darren had no idea where he was going, if he was honest with himself. In some ways, he was still wandering the jungle, waiting for Charlie to put a bullet in the back of his head. Sometimes the bullet was the town sheriff, or a group of hippies who liked to spit. Either way, something always forced him to move on. “I won’t be a problem sir.”

"Uh huh." Walters stared at him for several seconds. "Well, way I see it you look like a man who does a lot of walking these days. How long were you over there?”

Darren frowned. “Long enough.”

“You violent?”

“If I have to be.” How long ago was that incident in the bar? Four months? Five? A waitress had been hitting on him to make her preppy boyfriend jealous. Boyfriend had three friends help him jump Darren in the bathroom, and Darren had heard rumors in the next town a few days later that two of them were still in the hospital.

“You have a home son?”

To his credit, the sheriff didn’t ask again, even though Darren let the question hang for several seconds. 

“No sir.” 

Sheriff Walters let out a quiet rumble, like he was thinking way too hard. “Way I see it, it looks like you could use a break from all that walking. You're welcome to stay here as long as you don't cause any trouble. The locals won't bother you, if that's your worry."

"Thank you sir." Darren lifted his eyes to meet the sheriff's. Sheriff Walters had deep crow's feet, and his short hair had gone mostly gray. Though Walters was leaning back, Darren saw that he sat with his hand near his belt, his gun accessible at a moments notice. Hannah appeared with Darren’s Sunrise Special, placing it in front of him. Extra bacon had been piled on the side. Darren thanked her before she vanished once more.

“This is a small town, Darren. While the rest of the country is deciding who to blame for this war, many of us are still coming to grips with the nine boys we know ain’t coming home. I suspect you’ll be hard pressed to find somewhere nearly as friendly for a lost soldier such as yourself.”

“I’ll keep that in mind sheriff.”

"I think you should.." Walters was digging in his pocket. "I don't expect a man like you is looking to stay, but a little extra pocket change never hurt anybody. You look like a capable young man. We have a community board over at the library. We have a few odd jobs posted, may be good for you to make a few extra bucks." Walters laid a ten dollar bill on the edge of the table. "This is a small town, Darren, and we take care of our own. Those boys, bless their souls, wouldn’t have wanted us to turn away one of their own. You decide to make a couple days of it, that’s fine with me. Anyone gives you problems, you let me know straight away."

There was pain in Walters' voice mirrored only by an intensity in his eyes that Darren had experienced first hand.

"Thank you sheriff.. When Walters stood to leave, Darren rose as well, extending a hand. The sheriff shook it, then picked up his mug and walked out the door, waving to Hannah behind the counter. Darren sat back down, allowing a small sigh of relief to pass his lips. How long had it been since he had been made to feel welcome? Even his own hometown had gone anti-war, and the friends he had grown up with treated him with polite disdain at best.

Things would have been different if Daryl had come back with him. His twin had been his better half, the charming one who could make anyone smile. Thinking back to the time they stole the principal's car for a joyride, Darren couldn't help but smile at the memory of his brother grinning at the police from the driver seat, informing them that he had no idea how fast he had been going because he wasn't tall enough to see the speedometer.

For perhaps the millionth time, Darren wondered what would have happened if the sniper had chosen a different target, or if they had taken longer gearing up.

Or if some stupid fucking paper pusher hadn’t accidentally put them in the same unit.

"You okay?" Hannah reappeared, refilling his mug.

"Yes ma'am."

"Eat your food before it gets cold," she told him, sliding the ten dollar bill off the table and into her pocket. She put the change on the table. "And you let me know if you need anything else. Don’t be in a hurry to sneak out of here."

"Thank you ma’am." Darren took a piece of bacon, biting into it. It was perfectly crisp with just a few pockets of grease on top. He broke off a few pieces to eat with his eggs and toast, taking his time with the Sunrise Special. He mulled over the sheriff's kindness, Hannah keeping his coffee full.

He was there for another hour. When Hannah brought him some free pie, he made his decision.

-

The library was across from an old church, both buildings sporting plaques declaring that they had been built in the early 1920’s. The church looked run down, all of the downstairs windows boarded up. The front door had a padlock on the front, and no services were posted on the board out front.

The library, on the other hand, appeared to be quite busy. A steady stream of people were moving in and out of the entrance. A large field behind the library was populated by several families who had organized picnics, a perfect picture of small town tranquility. Darren watched as a father threw the pigskin for his son, pumping his hands in delight when the ten year old caught it. How long had it been since Darren’s own father had done such a thing, let alone looked him square in the eye?

Darren shook his head. The fault was largely his own. He had come back from the war a different man, one who was always looking for a fight. His father had tried, he really had, but neither of them had come to term with Daryl’s death on foreign soil. They had shipped his brother home in a box, or at least what they could find of him. Standing over Dwayne’s grave, Darren couldn’t help but wonder if they had just shipped home chunks of meat in camouflage, his brother’s remains beneath a bush somewhere.

At least he had the certainty that Dwayne was dead. He closed his eyes, forcing away the images that tried to creep free of his subconscious. The one that stuck with him was seeing the light gone from his brother’s eyes, that vacant stare that says nobody is home.

It was the same reason he couldn’t eat fried eggs anymore.

The door to the library was whimsically designed to look like it had been carved from a tree. Darren couldn’t help but smile when a little girl grabbed onto the oversized handle, pulling it open by leaning backward with her whole body. Coming up from behind, Darren held the door for her. Tossing a quick look back at him, she sprinted across the cheap linoleum of the lobby, vanishing through the bathroom door. 

The lobby itself was ordinary. A couple of cheap benches made a small sitting area, and a drinking fountain had been installed just inside the entrance. Walking up for a drink, he saw the community board that the sheriff had mentioned, cork board with spare pins to hang advertisements. Scratching at his beard, he flipped through the ads that people had left behind.

Several of them were of little use. Several of the parents in town were seeking baby sitters, and someone was offering to teach piano. The grocery store was looking for a bag boy, and Darren knew he would rather just move to the next town than spend all day trying to avoid conversations with people while stuffing their bags with bread and bananas. He needed a job where he could be useful, but away from people.

Flipping through the papers, he found one buried toward the bottom. Most of the fliers had been printed out on nicer paper, but this one had been hastily. scrawled on yellow tablet paper.

HANDYMAN WANTED

Reasonable Wage + Apartment

See Head Librarian

Darren pulled the flyer off the bulletin board, his eyes scanning it numerous times. A handyman job might not be bad. The town itself seemed pretty quiet, but it was the apartment offer that really caught his eye.

The idea that he may be able to stay somewhere without sleeping on a bench or someone’s couch appealed to him. He was pretty handy with tools, the result of a childhood building cars with his dad and Dwayne. He thought back to the sheriff’s words, a promise of a second chance if he wanted it. In a country so divided on its politics, any new town he traveled to would be yet another coin flip. He had yet to receive a welcome like he had here, and he wasn’t certain that his heart could take another unnecessary bar fight, or a police escort to the edge of town.

The front door of the library opened, causing a breeze to ruffle the papers on the board.  The sudden shuffling noise took Darren thousands of miles away. They were no longer papers rubbing against each other, but jungle leaves shifting in the dead of night. Darren clutched his M16, eyes scanning the dark, wet terrain. The jungle shifted, and a dark figure emerged, wide eyed and clutching a stack of books.

“Are you a soldier?” The figure asked, and the jungle vanished, replaced by the lobby and a ten year old boy. The room tilted briefly, and Darren squeezed his eyes shut, then fixed them on the kid in front of him. He relaxed his hands, his fists vanishing.

“I used to be,” he answered.

“Neat!” The boy, his curiosity satisfied, walked past Darren and stuffed his books into a large metal bin marked RETURN. He rounded the corner, and Darren followed him. The large hallway behind the lobby led to a couple of doors on the left, empty rooms with tables and chairs in them. The boy passed them, going through a set of double doors into the library proper. Darren walked in behind him.

The library consisted of two levels. The upper level was made up of stacks of books, and the few adults he saw were up above. The main floor was populated with shorter shelves full of children’s books. Along the edges, a few chairs had been placed, a few people reading quietly to themselves. The information desk by the entrance was empty, so Darren walked around it, looking for anybody who could help him.

A woman’s voice rose over the stacks, soft and motherly. Tilting his head to listen, he realized that the voice was reading out loud, a story about an ugly duckling trying to make its way through life. Darren followed the voice, stepping around the stacks and moving closer. Through the pauses in her readings, he could now hear the rustling of the pages, but couldn’t quite figure out why he couldn’t see her.

Stepping around a stack, he got his answer. A recessed portion of the floor created a natural sitting area for the spellbound children that surrounded her. She wore a black knit pullover and sat in an oversized chair with several cushions, her long, dark hair hanging around her shoulders. Her face was hidden behind a large pair of horn-rimmed glasses. Slouching forward, she held up a picture book for the children to see. An ugly duckling was hiding under some leaves in a rainstorm, staring wistfully out at a pond.

Darren walked softly, afraid that he would break the spell. Children between the ages of two and ten were gathered around her, gazing wistfully at the woman reading to them. Darren stood behind the children, waiting for her to finish. The ugly duckling grew into a beautiful swan and swam off into the sunset, or something like that. The children clapped, and several stood up to give the reader a big hug. Darren couldn’t help but notice the wistful look in her eye as she watched them go. Setting the book in her lap, she locked eyes with Darren. Her eyes were just as dark as her hair, and Darren was surprised by the intensity of her gaze.

“May I help you?” She asked, her arms folded in her lap.

“Maybe.” Darren held up the yellow piece of paper. “I’m supposed to see the Head Librarian.”

“I see.” Her expression softened. “Let me take you to her.” She swept aside her hair, then grabbed a knob on the edge of her armrest. With the flick of her wrist, her motorized chair spun slowly in place and moved up the ramp behind her. He met her at the top of the ramp, where she took the paper from him.

“My name is Ana.” She pronounced it Ah-na. “The children call me Ms. Rae.”

“Nice to meet you Ms. Rae, my name is Darren.” He offered her his hand, and she took it. He noticed that the veins in her hand stood out, thin blue webs on a chalky white canvas. He felt positively massive standing next to Ana, despite the bulk of her wheelchair.

“Follow me.” Her chair whined, and she went around him, going past the stacks. She was soon back at the information desk where an older blonde stood behind the desk.

“Hey Louise, this is Darren. He is here about the handyman job.”

Up close, Darren realized that Louise’s hair was more silver than blonde. She took the paper from Ana and nodded politely. “If you will watch the desk?”

“Yes Ms. Louise.” The chair puttered behind the large wooden desk, Ana pushing her way into a spot next to where Louise sat. “Good luck!” She gave Darren a thumbs up, and started organizing a stack of books. 

Darren followed Louise through the main door and into one of the side rooms, where she pulled out a chair and sat. She gestured for Darren to sit across from her. He set his bag down just under the table, giving it a push with his boot.

“So how did you hear about the job?” she asked.

“Sheriff Walters sent me to look at the community board.” At the mention of the sheriff, he saw an immediate change in Louise. She relaxed, her smile a little more genuine.

“I see. Well, we are looking for someone who can do basic carpentry, plumbing and electrical. Also, part of your job would be janitorial in nature. Do you feel qualified?”

“Yes ma’am.” He had always been good in shop, and he had learned plenty about plumbing and electrical in the army. Always a quick learner, Darren was sure he could figure it out if he didn’t already know it. “But I should probably tell you that I don’t have any tools on me except for a screwdriver in my bag.”

“Why do you carry a screwdriver?”

“I can open a can with it.” And almost anything else. Darren hadn’t been exactly shy about the places he had stayed in his travels. He was certain that more than a few families had come home wondering who had broken in just to eat some of their food.

“We have plenty of tools. Our last handyman’s widow gave them to the library when he passed away.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Gary was retired, but he liked to keep busy. I’m afraid the work on this place easily outpaced him, but he stuck with it until his heart attack.” Louise smiled weakly. “His love of the Sunrise Special didn’t help him any.”

“I see.” Darren shook his head. The idea of something lying in wait, like a heart attack or an aneurysm, used to terrify him. Now, however, he was more afraid of the ghosts that seemed to follow him everywhere he went. He was a full step outside of reality, and he was hoping that maybe, in due time, he could finally catch up with the rest of the human race, and maybe walk by their side once again. “Dreadful.”

“About your pay.” Louise looked nervous. “It’s supplemental at best. However, the city council has authorised us to offer a room as compensation. The church across the street from here has a living space in the back. Back when it was in service, the preacher and his family lived there. I’m afraid that the rate isn’t negotiable.”

“How much per week?” When Louise told him, Darren grimaced. It really was low, but it was more money than he had seen in a bit. Even if he stayed here for a few months and saved up, it would be plenty to live off of for when he moved on.

“Like I said, it isn’t great. I’m afraid that we can’t afford too much.” She frowned. “The room is decent though, and the people here are kind. And you wouldn’t be alone-Ms. Rae would be your neighbor?”

“In the church?”

“Yes. When the church was built,it was originally planned that the living space was for a pair of men. The kitchen and living room are a common area, but the rooms were separate, and there are locks on them. The preacher we used to have had his kids stay in the other room, but they all left town after he stole the church’s money.”

“Will Ana be okay with sharing space with me?”

“Well, she doesn’t have much choice. Being honest, Ana’s career choices are rather limited by her disability. She came to us a few years ago much like you did, straight off the bus. Walters found her down at the park, feeding the geese.”

“He seems to have a penchant for strays.”

Louise laughed. “You have no idea. Look, if you want the job, it’s yours. It would be nice to have another face around here and, to be honest, it would do my heart good to know that someone else is in that stuffy old church with her. You want to stay on my good side, you help me take care of that girl.” She stood. “Why don’t you come with me and I can have Ana show you to your new place.”

“Yes ma’am.” Darren picked up his bag and followed. when they walked back into the library, Ana was smiling at a young man who was telling her about his summer trip. She stamped several books that he had checked out, them handed them over. The guy said hello to Louise as he walked past, ignoring Darren completely.

“Ana? Darren here has decided to join the team.”

“Congratulations.” Ana smiled. It didn’t quite seem to make it to her eyes.

“He will be taking the extra room in the church’s living quarters.” Darren saw the edges of Ana’s smile wither slightly. He couldn’t blame her-he wouldn’t be excited about a new roommate either. Louise opened a locked drawer and pulled out a small set of keys. “I’ll have Ana take you over so you can get acquainted. Tomorrow morning I will have a list ready for you.”

“Let’s go.” Ana pushed the joystick on her chair, and her chair carried her out to the front lobby. Darren followed her outside and across the street to the old church. Wondering how she intended to get up the narrow concrete steps, he said nothing when she went past the building, turning onto a an unseen cobblestone path that went to the side. It was like a long driveway, sloped gently to the back of the building. The door here was the only part of the building that looked remotely recent – it was a bit wider than a normal door, and he understood why once Ana produced a key and unlocked it. Her chair had just over an inch of clearance on each side, and she hummed to herself once she crossed the boundary. 

Large boxes had been piled to the sides, labeled DONATIONS and stuffed with books. A simple kitchenette was just past the storage room, and they entered a large living room. The doors had been removed from most of them, the rooms full of more boxes labeled DECORATIONS or DONATIONS. The last two rooms had doors, and Ana opened one of them with a key.

“This would be your room,” she said, pushing the door open. A stained mattress was in the corner. There wasn’t any other furniture in the room, and the tiny window above the bed was covered in filth. Darren walked inside, turning slowly to take it all in. There was a small closet and a bathroom with a shower. “I’m afraid there isn’t any hot water currently. There will be if you can get the water heater working again.”

“I’ve slept in worse,” he admitted, looking up at the ceiling. There were several cracks in the plaster. He set his bag down by the bed and looked out the window. Not only was it dirty, but a large bush grew on the other side.

“It’ll do.” He left the room, looking at the other door. “What’s through there?”

“That’s my room.” Ana’s eyes narrowed. “I must admit that I’m not very keen on having a man next door. If I ever find you in there, or you cause me any trouble, I won’t hesitate to get you fired.”

Darren nodded. “I don’t blame you. I’m honestly just looking for a roof over my head, maybe get my head on straight. Um…” He rubbed the back of his head. “There’s something you should know about me. Ever since the war, I have a lot of trouble sleeping.”

“Like an insomniac?”

“No. I fall asleep. Staying asleep is the problem. It’s just bad dreams. It doesn’t happen very often, but when they do, they can get pretty bad.”

“Dreams about the war?” she asked. She sounded curious.

Darren nodded. “If they get real bad, you can wake me up, but do it from a distance. Turn on the lights first so I can see you. My body wakes up faster than my brain does. I just wanted you to know, just in case.”

“Sounds dreadful. I’m a pretty heavy sleeper, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She opened her mouth to say something else, then went silent. “I promise I’m not rude or anything. I’m just nervous. For now, if we could just keep it professional, that would be for the best.”

“Yes ma’am.” Darren noticed a large set of double doors just around the corner from Ana’s room. “Where do those go?”

“The rectory. That stays locked up – ever since a termite infestation some years back, there’s so much wood rot that you could fall through to the basement. There simply hasn’t been the money to get it fixed.”

“But none here?” he asked, stomping his foot.

“Concrete beneath here. The termites didn’t like the flavor of it, I guess.” She took him outside to the narrow concrete stairs that went beneath the church. “We store a bunch of things down there, but I’m afraid it’s been awhile since anyone has been. Apparently the bugs have taken over and it’s a real mess.”

“Bugs don’t bother me.” At least not the ones in the states. The insects in Nam were far scarier.

“That’s good to hear. By the way, Gary’s tools were all put down there. Also, the water heater is out. If you want a hot shower, you’ll need to fix it.”

“You don’t? Want a hot shower, I mean.”

“I sponge bathe.” She patted herself on the leg. “These are zero good for standing, so I just heat up some water on the stove and wash off.”

“I see.” He felt bad bringing it up. He started down the stairs. “Guess there’s no time like the present to check it out.”

“Here. You’ll need this.” She tossed him a key. “I’ll be back at the library if you have any questions. It closes at six.I guess I’ll see you later.” He could hear the sound of her tires on the loosely packed dirt fade into the distance.

“Yeah. I guess.” Darren looked at the door to the basement. It had muddy handprints on it, likely Gary’s. Holding the key in his fingers, he slid it into the lock just as thunder roared in the distance.

*8*

It was raining hard, the sudden downpour enough to cause a mist to rise from the hot asphalt. The small truck pulled up against the sidewalk, both men getting out and running to Matty’s through the rain. The smell of fresh cooked meat and fries clung to them immediately, making Brother Cyrus’ mouth water.

“Damn, that sounds good.” Jeffrey gave the bottom of his coat a yank, casting droplets of rain all over the entrance. He pulled a comb out of his back pocket, giving his mullet a quick comb-thru.“I’m getting Matty’s Special. You should too.”

“You know I don’t eat meat,” Cyrus reminded him. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose. Just the thought of greasy beef bits being crushed beneath his tongue made him queasy. It was less the texture of the meat and more the idea that it had once been alive that bothered him. “I do, however, eat onion rings.”

“A man of your talents unwilling to eat meat never ceases to amaze me.” Jeffrey nodded politely at the older woman who welcomed them in. She led them to a booth near the back of the restaurant. A couple of locals were deep in lively conversation over some town gossip involving a new handyman. Cyrus made a mental note of it as they walked toward the table.

“Don’t need a menu hun. Matty’s Special for me, and a salad and some onion rings for my friend.” Jeffrey flashed the old waitress a smile. “And a couple of cold beers.”

Cyrus watched the waitress disappear into the kitchen. “Seems friendly enough,” he said, looking around the establishment. A couple of curious patrons watched them with interest, but not in a fearful way.

“You’re just being polite.” Jeffrey slapped the table with both hands repeatedly as the waitress returned with two bottles of beer. “Thanks sweetheart! Keep ‘em coming for me.” Again, he flashed his winning smile. Their waitress, Hannah according to her nametag, smiled back. Cyrus took the beer from her and wondered if she would be so friendly if she knew that half of those teeth were fake, the result of a fist fight with a Bigfoot.

Cyrus sipped his drink, a sigh escaping his lips. He pulled a pad of paper out of his pocket, checking the name one more time. 

“This is the right town.” He flipped the notepad shut. “But it doesn’t have the right feel.”

“You mean a community on the edge, gripped by terror by dark things lurking in the woods?” Jeffrey slammed half the bottle, his head tilted far enough back that Cyrus could see the scars at the top of his chest. Three diagonal marks, a going away gift from a demon. “I bet it’s in hiding.”

“Of course it’s in hiding.” Cyrus dropped the volume of his voice. “Its kind is made for hiding.”

“I’m sure we’ll ferret it out, no worries.” Jeffrey took the pad of paper from Cyrus. “Unless, of course, the Oracle lied about where it was hiding.”

“The Oracle hasn’t lied to us yet.”

“The damn thing’s a monster and I don’t trust it. Those glowing red eyes and those fucking gross wings.” Jeffrey shuddered. “I still say there’s no way we should have been able to capture something that sees the future like that.”

“A shining moment for the Order, and you know it.” Cyrus had been part of the crew that had captured it. Once the sightings had been reported, the Order had been on the scene almost immediately. “Besides, how many things has the Oracle helped us track down in the last decade?”

Jeffrey coughed. “Yeah, well maybe it hates its own kind more than it hates us. And I still don’t like that you and the other Brothers gave it a title.”

“Your objection is duly noted. I will put it in my report once we’re done here.”

“And you can take your report and shove it up your-hey, that looks great!” Hannah set a fresh burger right in front of him and a large salad in front of Cyrus. “Damn girl, that was fast!”

Cyrus rolled his eyes. Hannah hadn’t been a girl since the fifties.

“Hey, I was wondering if you could help my friend and me.” Jeffrey tucked his napkin into the collar of his shirt. “We’re just looking for someone who knows the area around town. We’re fixin to do a little camping while we’re passing through.”

“Hmm. I might know someone who can help.” Hannah picked up Jeffrey’s bottle and gave it a slight shake. “I’ll grab you another beer. And I still have your onion rings, hun.” She smiled at Cyrus, and he smiled weakly back.

“So we’re camping this time.” Cyrus shook his head. “You’d better hope this thing isn’t lurking around town. They’ll never buy our cover if we have to hunt it here.”

“Then I suggest you start praying to the Lord that he blesses us this go round.” Jeffrey picked up his burger and took a large bite, hot sauce squirting out the back of the bun and splashing on the table. “Otherwise, we could be the ones who become the hunted.”

Cyrus frowned at his salad. The last thing they needed was any complications. He ate a couple of onion rings and picked at his meal, tuning out Jeffrey’s “food-as-good-as-sex” moans. Jeffrey was already on his third meal when the bell over the front door rang. Cyrus used the reflection in the glass behind Jeffrey to see that a lawman had walked in the diner. Hannah met him at the door, pointing a finger there direction.

“Jeffrey.” Cyrus locked eyes with his partner.

“I see him, Brother Cyrus.” The tone Jeffrey used now was all business, the facade of an overtly friendly traveler gone for just a moment. Cyrus fixed a grin on his face when the newcomer came up behind him.

“Evening gentlemen.” He pulled up a stool and sat at the edge of the table. He offered his hand, which they both shook. “Sheriff Walters, I’m in charge around here. Hannah says that you two were looking for someone who knew these parts. Been hunting and fishing here my whole life.” He stuck a hand out and a mug of coffee was handed to him by Hannah. “You fellows have a map on you?”

“We do.” Jeffrey pulled the small map they had bought at a gas station out of his coat pocket. “We’re just doing a little camping and were hoping to get off trail a bit, maybe poke around where nobody goes.”

“Uh huh.” The sheriff looked at Cyrus. “This one doesn’t much look like the off trail type.”

“That’s years of Catholic reform school for you. Before his parents sent him away, he was a regular boy scout. Once got treed by a bear, slept up there through the night until it went away.”

“A bear huh?” Walters asked.

“It was a dog, actually. I was eleven” Cyrus threw David a nasty look. “But yes, we are looking to get away from it all. My friend Jeffrey just inherited a sum of money from his father and we’ve been scouting for a place to buy some land, maybe build a house.”

“Sounds like the two of you are pretty good friends.” Sheriff Walters sipped at his coffee, his eyes on the two of them.

“We’re more than friends. We grew up together and somehow poor Cyrus here ended up married to my little sister. They’re about to start a family and all and I thought it was a good time to maybe put down some new roots.”

“I see. Well I’m sorry to hear about your dad.”

“Don’t be, man was a real bastard. Always took to the drink too hard, liked to push his kids around. In fact, the money he left me was a policy he purchased when he was shit-faced drunk, pardon my french. Forgot he even had it. The day he drove into a rock face at sixty-five was the best day of my life.” Jeffrey finished his third beer, the silence at the table suddenly deafening.

“Which is why we are looking to move,” Cyrus added. “Everyone deserves a fresh start.”

“Yes, well, I can give you a few ideas. What did ya have in mind?”

“We really liked caving when we were kids. Anywhere we could get nice and deep under the earth. We also like hunting deer, anywhere with medium sized game in large numbers. Or a marsh for birding.” Jeffrey’s eyes flicked to Cyrus.

“Like he said, off the beaten path. But nothing too dangerous. If there’s anywhere where people go missing or anything like that, we want to avoid it.”

Sheriff Walters laughed. “You don’t have to worry about stuff like that here. We have our share of trouble out in the woods, but if anyone has ever gone missing, we never knew they were here.” He pulled a pen out of his shirt and drew some circles on the map. “Here are some spots that may interest you. This area here has a couple of caves, but be careful. We get reports of bears every now and then up there. Also, there’s a fishing hole right around here that’s pretty good. My boy and I used to-” The sheriff went quiet. “Anyway, it would be good to have some young-uns at the old fishing hole again. I haven’t been out there in quite a while.” He finished his coffee and held the mug out for Hannah as she swung past, someone’s meal in her other hand. “You boys just drop by the sheriff’s station if you need anything. I pretty much live there these days.” He stood up and shook both their hands before disappearing out the front door and into the rain.

“He seemed friendly,” Jeffrey remarked, picking food out of his teeth with a toothpick.

“Too friendly for a man whose town is being terrorized by a man-eating creature,” Cyrus muttered. He opened up his notepad again, staring at the words he had written. The Oracle had never lied before, but there was no sign of the beast they hunted here. Had the creature moved on? It wouldn’t surprise him if it had. The Order had been tracking it for over a decade now with no luck at all. “Before we traipse out into the wilderness, I’m going to call the Keep and see if I can get someone to double check with the Oracle. I don’t want to waste our time hunting it if it has moved on.”

“Yes, well, you know me. I’m just a loaded pistol.” Jeffrey made a gun with his fingers and pointed them at Cyrus. “Just point me in the right direction and shoot me.”

Cyrus shook his head. Jeffrey was annoying to travel with, but he couldn’t think of any other Knight of the Order he would ever be safer with.

*g*

Her chair hissed beneath her, the wheels squeaking whenever she turned left. She sighed, making a mental note to fix it tonight. It wouldn’t be an issue to dismantle the chair and apply a little oil to it.

Wait, yes it would. She had already forgotten that she was now sharing her living space with Darren. She tensed her jaw in anger, then quickly relaxed. She couldn’t let anyone know how much it bothered her, the idea of losing her privacy. She had happened across this life quite by accident, and she would be perfectly happy to continue living it.

She slid a book about birds into its proper home, then readjusted the metal bookends on the shelf so that the books would quit tipping over. She tilted the control stick of her chair, grimacing once more when she heard that damn wheel squeak. Navigating the paper labyrinth around her, she had become lost in her own thoughts.

How many years had it been since she had struck out on her own? She had been little more than a child, on the run from the people who were hunting her. Memories of the nest came flooding in, and she chased them away, scowling at the books in her hand.

She wasn’t upset at Darren. She was upset that she may end up on the run again. Her life here was quiet, and there was plenty to eat without letting on that she was hunting. The people of this town had nothing to fear from her, and she had nothing to fear from them.

As long as her secret was kept. Therein lie the problem. Extra precautions would now have to be taken, and a new level of discipline was required. She had become accustomed to her routine, and Darren threatened to shake things up.

If nothing else, she was a creature of habit.

She was toward the back of the aisle, shoving a well loved children’s book in its home when she spotted it. It drifted gently in the breeze of the HVAC system, a small cobweb that dangled from above the shelf. It had come loose, displaying its collection of dust to anyone willing to look.

Frowning, Ana used the utility stick on the back of her chair to knock it down. She caught it in one hand, rolling it into a ball and then smelling it. Immediately, her senses came to life, and she tracked down the perpetrator by smell. A Cat-Faced spider had set up its new home behind the reference shelf for geography, its body tucked into a space in the brick and unseen to passerbys.

“Hey.” Ana held up the broken web. “I know this was you.”

The Cat-Faced spider scurried free of the crack, contemplating Ana from the center of its funnel web. It waved its legs in explanation, chittering in a language only she could hear.

“I don’t care if Louise was dusting. You could have gone back for it. What were the rules?”

Dramatic wave legging ensued.

“That’s right. Leave no traces. Otherwise?”

The Cat-Faced spider chittered a single word.

“That’s right. They’ll use the spray.” Louise hated spiders, and the last time she had the library sprayed for insects, Ana had called in sick for a week. Not only did the stuff smell awful, but it made her sick to her stomach. They were putting some new chemical in the insect sprays that disoriented her. Ana had told Louise that Lemon Pledge would work just fine, but that meant convincing the local wildlife to bugger off.

The Cat-Faced spider waved an apology and scurried into its home.

“Next time I’ll eat you instead.” She looked over her shoulder to make certain nobody was watching, then stuffed the web in her mouth. She chewed on the web, her saliva breaking it down into proteins she could use later. She finished stocking the books and returned to the reference desk. Louise was busy looking through the back of the card catalogue. She had pulled a couple cards, books that were likely long overdue.

“So he seems nice,” Louise said, her fingers flitting through the cards.

“I guess.” Ana rolled around the desk. “I’m not super comfortable sharing space with a man.”

“And while that may be true, I would feel better knowing there’s at least a man nearby to help you in case something happens. Particularly a man who looks like he could take care of anything.”

“I thought you were a feminist now. Women don’t need men and all that.”

Louise laughed. “Actually, my concern has nothing to do with gender and everything to do with that chair you’re stuck in.”

“Jesus, you just came right out and said it, didn’t you?”

“I’m getting too old to beat around the bush and I’m not wrong. Isn’t that thing overdue for a breakdown?”

“I’m not comfortable talking about my chair.”

“Sorry honey, but you’ve got a roommate. If he causes problems, I’ll happily fire his ass, otherwise you need to figure out how to deal with it.” Louise took the overdue cards and stuck them in her pocket. “I’m going to see if I can track these down. Close up please.”

Ana sighed, watching Louise walk to the back of the library where her office was. The decision now was how to best alter her schedule so that Darren didn’t catch on. Her nightly excursions would need to be later, which meant hunting more efficiently.

“Fuck.” She whispered it just in case there were children nearby. Up above, the skylights had grown dark with clouds and the distant thunder she had heard on her way over was now overhead. The skies opened up, and what few patrons wandering the library scurried out to get home before it got any worse. Louise, finished with her calls, waved to Ana when she passed the desk.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Louise was holding an umbrella in her left hand, and she pushed her way through the entrance into the hall. Ana could hear her footsteps in the lobby, and then the sensitive hairs on her body felt the slight shift in air when the front door was open. She sighed again, looking around the library to make sure everybody had gone.

The storm didn’t let up, and it was still going when the clock in the lobby tolled six. Ana turned off the lights and rolled to the front door. Looking through the glass, she shook her head. She hated getting wet. She was almost at the door when she felt the slight shift in air on the other side, and the door opened.

Standing outside was Darren. His face was impossible to read, but Ana bet this was always the case. He had a solid jaw line with several days of stubble. His dark eyes were haunted in the way that only a survivor could understand.

And God knew she was a survivor.

“Did you need something?” she asked.

“Nope.” He held out an umbrella. “I saw this in the living room and thought you might need it.”

“That’s… thank you.” Darren stepped back so she could come through the door, opening the umbrella above her. She went down the ramp, Darren close behind her. While she found his chivalry charming, the odor of the bus clung to him like oil, and she tried hard not to wrinkle her nose in disgust. Anytime she met someone, she could smell where they had been since they last showered. She wasn’t sure how many days she smelled on Darren.

They got to the sidewalk and stopped long enough for a white truck that Ana didn’t recognize to pass. The man in the passenger seat was holding a map, and the windows had partially fogged over.

“Nice night,” Darren said.

“Hardly. Why did you come for me?”

“Honestly? I didn’t know if you would be stuck here because of the rain.”

“If you’re asking if my chair breaks when wet, it doesn’t.”

“Oh. Well, live and learn.” He handed Ana the umbrella when they got to the church. “I have to go back into the basement. I’ve about got the water heater working properly. There was a ton of sediment inside of it on top of a clog in the gas line, two problems working together. Holler if you need anything.”

“Okay, thank you.” She watched him disappear around the church. Relieved that he was gone, she entered the living quarters and made a beeline for her bedroom. She shut the door behind her and locked it.

Her withered legs lifted off of the chair, touching the floor beneath them. She kicked off her boots, revealing the shriveled tights she wore over them. Sticking her hands under her skirt, she pulled the tights off, revealing the sleek black armor on her legs. She reached behind her to undo the velcro that held her skirt in place and kept it from sliding forward to reveal the place where her pale skin vanished and her exoskeleton began.

Feeling the vibrations through the floor with her feet, she could tell that Darren was still under the church. Letting out a quiet groan, she pushed her way forward out of the chair.

One by one, her other legs slid free of their confinement. Wiggling forward, her abdomen came free of the chair itself, revealing the large hidden compartment where the electric motor would have been if she hadn’t hollowed it out. Her last four legs came out, the legs she used to help spin the chair’s wheels. 

“Oh, yes!” She stretched all eight of her legs one at a time, the light glistening off of her dark exoskeleton. Ana squatted a few times, loosening up her limbs. She hated being confined to the chair all day, but there really was no other choice. Through her feet, she could feel the vibrations of Darren working beneath her.

It would be a few minutes before he came back up. Stretching her legs, her hands easily reached the loose chunk of plaster in the ceiling. She pushed it up, the hole just big enough for her torso. climbing the wall, she squeezed through until she was up in the belfry of the church. The loose plaster was secured in place by webs of her own creation, and she let it sit back in place, the hole vanishing.

What she had told Darren about termites had been a half truth. It had taken her time to lure a nest here, and they had chewed away at the floorboards on her command. However, the upper part of the church was perfectly fine, and she climbed into the rafters with ease.

Scattered around the steeple were funnel webs she had left to catch birds and small rodents curious enough to crawl inside. She found a struggling dove in one of the upper traps and a pair of squirrels in another, the webs damaged by their struggles. She sighed, unimpressed by her haul. Using her hands to break their necks, she spun new funnel traps and then climbed even higher with her bounty.

She lightly bit each of the small animals, injecting them with an enzyme to break them down, then wrapped them in cocoons for later. She hung them from the ceiling, meticulously examining her handiwork. Even the slightest hole in her cocoon meant that the meat would go bad. Satisfied that she had done the job well enough, she grabbed a couple of older cocoons and squeezed them. They were soft enough to eat, and she bit into the first one, draining its contents.

Human food could sustain her for a while, but she needed large amounts of raw protein and fluid to not only spin her webs, but properly move her legs. She would need to venture out soon to hunt larger game, perhaps a deer. When she finished the first cocoon, she tucked it aside and started drinking from the second. These small snacks would get her by until the next new moon when she could sneak about with little fear of being seen.

Vibrations through the floor told her that Darren had left the basement. Hiding the last cocoon, she nimbly jumped through the rafters until she was back at the loose plaster. Giving a tug on the web lifted it free, and she squirmed through the hole, dropping quietly onto her bedroom floor. She could feel the tremor of his boots on the floor, smell his greasy odor from beneath the door.

“Please don’t knock, please don’t knock…” she whispered, hoping that her new roommate wouldn’t be feeling extra lonely tonight. His boots stopped outside her door and she groaned inwardly.

A piece of paper slid under the door. She waited several seconds and let out a sigh of relief when his footsteps kept going into his own bedroom down the hall. She picked up the note, amazed at how neat his handwriting was.

Should have hot water now. Let me know if you have any problems with it.

“Oh.” She read the note again, suddenly relieved at the idea of a hot shower, or even a bath. Truth be told, she enjoyed a nice, hot soak. It helped loosen her up. However, she had had no idea how to fix the water heater, and zero desire to handle an open flame. Fire terrified her, bringing to mind the last day she had spent in her family’s nest. She closed her eyes to shut out the memories of her sisters’ screams, picturing the old warehouse as it burned to the ground, surrounded by a group of men with swords.

Darren was clunking around his bathroom now, water flowing in the pipes when he turned on his shower. The distant odor of dust and steam tickled the fine hairs in her nose and she tossed the note in her trash bin. It looked like Darren was going to respect her privacy for now. She hoped it continued. Sensing that Darren was properly occupied again, she pulled the plaster loose again and ascended into her sanctuary above the church after turning off her bedroom light.

The steeple of the church used to have the gears of a large clock and bell assembly in it. Shortly after moving in, Ana had removed both, moving them to another part of the building. She preferred the solitude and safety of the steeple-short of a ladder or scaffold, no human could even get up there, and she had a great view of the town. The wooden beams were thick enough that even a flashlight’s beam would struggle to find her web, a cozy little funnel of her own that resembled a large hammock. Crawling into it, she lay on her stomach, her legs dangling over open space.

She yawned, then took off her glasses and set them on the small nightstand she had secured to a nearby beam. She blinked at the sudden shift in her vision, the secondary eyes along her forehead opening up. The glasses had been a gift from her mother, an enchanted item that hid away her extra eyes. The downside, however, was that she couldn’t see with them, and her vision was fairly poor with just her human eyes.

She took off her blouse, tossing it up on the rafters. Her pale skin glowed in the light of the rising moon, her dark legs swinging in the slight breeze that blew through the steeple. With her shirt off, her senses came alive-the white canvas of her skin was covered in millions of very fine, sensitive hairs which could detect the wingbeats of a fly in a still room. The dark glossy shell of her spider body started where her thighs and buttocks should have been. Anyone down below her would only see her if she leaned forward too far.

She was comfortable here, but how long would it last? Would Darren be content to go about his day, or would he try to get to know her, or become curious about her lifestyle? She had deliberately chosen to feign her disability because people didn’t ask questions about it, but it only took one person who felt entitled to answers to make a good situation sour.

The whole mess was her fault anyway. If Gary hadn’t decided to see if he could repurpose one of the church pews, he never would have stumbled on her checking her traps. He had screamed hard enough that the vessels in his eyes burst, and he had collapsed to the floor in a dead heap. Gary had been terrified of spiders, which was why he rarely went in the church basement, and his fear had actually killed him.

A breeze swung her hammock gently, her shiny legs glinting in the moonlight. She flattened herself against the webbing, her breasts pushing through the gaps. Her pale blue nipples seemed to glow with a light of their own. She pushed her arms through holes in the webbing, her whole body dangling. It was how she had fallen asleep as a child, and it was how she fell asleep tonight.

*g*

The moon was high in the sky when she awoke, her whole body tingling. Her legs were curling up tightly on their own, and she felt a sensation in her gut, one that she had been dreading for months now. It had been a while since she had last felt it, but there was no mistaking it this time. 

Swaying in the breeze, she had pressed her crotch into the tight strands of the web in her sleep. The thick bands had pressed up into her groin, bypassing the protective shell that she had placed there by sliding in from the side. The shell itself was a piece of casing from the last time she had molted, held in place by one of her stickier webs. It had all but fallen off, and she pulled it free, setting it on a nearby beam.

The webbing was caught between her thick, puffy labia, rubbing hard against the hard nub of her clitoris. Every time she swung, she pressed against it, eliciting an involuntary sigh. She wanted to stop, to crawl somewhere else, but the sensation spread through her whole body with every push. Her nipples were rock hard, standing up defiantly in the moon’s light. She tried to adjust the web with her hands, but her fingers rubbed the outside of her labia instead, pressing them together until a thick liquid dripped from her, coating her fingers. Her legs clicked against each other involuntarily, pulling the web like giant guitar strings and making her whole body vibrate.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” she muttered, trying hard to fight off the coming flood and failing. Her whole body shuddered, her web vibrating all around her as the orgasm caught her off guard. Thinking that would be the end of it, she tried to relax, but she found that she craved more. She rubbed against the web absent-mindedly, telling herself it was no big deal, doing her best to fight off the terrifying truth.

It was time for her to find a mate.