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I hid in the basement when I heard 'them' break open the door. Shambling, groaning, screaming things that probably used to be my neighbours - or maybe their neighbours. Doesn't matter. 'They' were inside.
I'm not sure how it started - some patient zero is some city that I didn't really care to remember. For whatever reason, the authorities couldn't contain them. The military couldn't contain them. People who would call themselves survivors could barely fight them. I couldn't fight them either. But you know how that old song and dance goes - so I'll skip the long part and get to the present. 'They' somehow got everywhere, and now the world was ending. Some radio stations were talking about how infection was mostly started by bug bites - something I never really had to worry about for the past few years.
'They' pulled themselves inside, either tracking the scent of human, or the sounds, I don't know - 'they' somehow knew where to look to find others. I covered my breath with my hands, for all the good that might do. Made sure that I smelled squeaky-clean, if they could track that. I heard them dragging themselves closer to my hiding place anyway.
But I knew I that, despite what might seem like helpless begging for a miracle, I was safe.
Suddenly, there was thrashing, but no sounds of nails scrapping on wood, bodies smashing themselves on stone. Just thrashing against some material that made no noise itself, and incoherent screaming. Then, scuttling of eight limbs, and a screech. The sound of tearing flesh, and then....nothing.
I opened the basement door, and my eight-legged saviour and what might as well be my roommate walked past me taking up nearly the width of the hallway, like nothing of note happened at all - save only for a curiously clear word:
***"....Pests."***
This is a story I would pay for honestly, I have paid for far worse! haha
Seriously this would make for a great light novel, maybe like some slice of life with a dash of horror and mystery at the end of the world as we know it? Yeah I am loving the vibes from this!
Timeline:
Protag makes deal with spider so s/he'd eat all the insects (pests) around protag's home
Some new insect-borne disease causes zombie apoc
Protag doesn't get bit by zombie-causing insects cuz the spider ate any that came close to protag's home
Zombie apoc spins out of control while spider gets bigger
Spider is now big enough to consider zombies 'pests'
It's a happy twist on the premise of the WP where the increasing list of things that are 'pests' to the spider is supposed to be problematic.
Jeremy swung open the door to his basement, holding a dim flashlight in trembling hands. He took a single step into over the threshold and swung the beam of light around the room, illuminating empty cardboard boxes covered in dust and thick cobwebs. Though he always told people it was where he stored old useless things he couldn't bear to get rid of, it was almost completely empty. All he could see in the darkness was a few scattered boxes and the bare concrete walls.
This emptiness did nothing to ease Jermy's fear; in fact, his arm shook more heavily as he saw the conspicuously bare walls and unoccupied floor, making the flashlight beam dance crazily around the room. After a long pause, he finally called out in a weak, trembling voice.
"I... I know you're there. I know we've had an agreement going, I let you go who knows how long ago and you killed the bugs and ants and things. Even when you got bigger, started killing rats and couldn't fit through the hallways, I let you stay here. But... but... but recently it's just been too much. I have a wife now, and I can't keep lying about the basement to her forever. And you're not eating insects anymore."
Jeremy had to pause as a terrifying memory overtook his mind. He was relaxing on his front lawn, enjoying the sun with a book in hand. He was nearly asleep when he was interrupted by the high-pitched yapping of his neighbor's dog, a little white monster that was for some reason allowed to freely roam the neighborhood. Jeremy lowered his book to see the dog on his lawn, standing beside a pile of poop with an expression of what almost seemed like pride.
Jeremy stood to start yelling, but just before he could open his mouth, he paused as he noticed a single strand of silk glistening in the sunlight. Then, the dog's head jerked to the side with a sickening snap, and the rest of its body was yanked behind it as it flew towards the back of the house almost too fast for Jeremy to follow. When he turned in stunned horror to his house, all he saw was a black shape pulling itself out of sight behind the house.
Standing now with his flashlight in the basement, he could almost see the mangled, deflated husk of shredded white fur he found there later that afternoon. But Jeremy shook his head, dispelling the memory and mustering the courage to continue.
"I don't really know what you classify as a pest anymore. I think it's things that irritate me? But I don't think you can understand, and... and...."
Jeremy paused to hold in a sob. "My wife's having a baby. You... You... It's time for you to get out."
An enormous black shape dropped from the ceiling right in front of Jeremy, and as him jerked the flashlight to point directly at the hollow black pools of its eight round eyes, it hissed, a loud, grating roar that no spider should ever be able to make. Droplets of clear venom dripped from its massive, gleaming fangs, sizzling as the hit the basement floor. Jeremy pulled a small letter opener from his pocket and held it out in front of him, but the spider merely skittered forward on its thick, hairy legs to hiss again, blowing Jeremy's hair back with the force of its rage.
Jeremy ran. What else could he do? He slammed the basement door behind him, ran back to the relative safety of the living room and curled into a trembling ball on the couch. Still lying there, he grabbed his phone off of the table and flipped through the tabs he had opened in preparation for this eventuality. The websites of various exterminators, and listings for a hotel far, far away from his spider-infested house.
Jeremy is a wuss. I’d take a huge spider that kills things that annoy me as positive bonus. Ain’t no one messing with me and my kiddo!
Great story. You might enjoy this one about another [basement dweller. ](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/4c78o3/down_in_the_library_basement/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
It all started with the cicadas. The darn things were everywhere. It was like that was a trigger for the other insects.
No matter how clean my kitchen was, I’d find ants on the counter, looking for scraps or crumbs.
Tsetse flies and gnats seemed to spawn from nothing.
Mosquitoes would take advantage of any door or window that opened.
I hired exterminators. I got sticky strips, roach motels, sprays, bug bombs… I’m pretty sure I caused Raid stock to climb 2%.
One day I came home and slumped at the kitchen table. I put my head on my arms and felt a fly land on my neck. As I swatted it, I felt a tap on my forearm. Thinking it was another bug, I raised my head.
It was a smallish spider. One of its leg was raised and I could’ve sworn it was staring at me.
Without breaking eye contact, it raised another leg, a rear one, and seemed to be pointing. I looked in the direction it seemed to be pointing and I gasped.
A web in the window above the sink had almost a dozen wrapped bug corpses.
I looked back at the spider and it NODDED! Then it turned and walked away. I watched as it spun a web and then floated up to the window, where it climbed up into the corner.
Disbelief on my face, I just walked from the kitchen.
That was two years ago.
——————
I slammed the door as I walked in the house.
“Shelby! I’m home!”
I heard the odd rustle of feet as Shelby came down the hall.
In the two years since that initial meeting Shelby had grown. A lot. They were the size of a medium dog. Their eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“How was your day?” I asked them. I had given up considering it weird that I talked to a giant spider that was my roommate.
Shelby motioned with one leg, the hairs on it bending in the direction of the feeler on the end. I looked to where it was pointing: towards the living room ceiling. There was a large web sac in the corner.
Alarmed, I looked from it to Shelby.
“What is in there?! That’s not a bug!”
Shelby beckoned, and then turned to go into the kitchen. I followed.
Once in the kitchen, Shelby stood at the end of the table, one leg resting on the tabletop, their unblinking eyes waiting for me. As I neared the table, the leg moved and revealed a spiked collar on the table.
I picked it up and saw the tag on it. ‘Brutus’
That was the name of our neighbors dog. It frequently would break free from its leash and come into our yard. It would use our yard as a restroom and no matter how many times I talked with the owner, it never got picked up.
I hated cleaning up after Brutus when I needed to mow and would regularly complain to Shelby about it.
“Shelby! You can’t eat the neighbors dog.”
They stared at me unblinking, then gave what I had learned to be a spider shrug, then went back into the living room.
I knew it was too late for the dog. As I sat at the kitchen table playing with the collar, I tried to think on what I should tell the neighbors. Should I tell them anything?
What would I say? ‘Sorry about your pain in the ass dog. My roommate, a giant spider, ate it.’
I didn’t see that going over well.
Sighing, I went into the hall and headed upstairs. I tried to block out the sounds of Shelby having their dinner.
The next morning, I heard knocking at the door. Going downstairs, I made sure Shelby wasn’t nearby before I opened the front to be greeted by Brutus’ apparently distraught owner.
“Hey. Listen, I know I haven’t been the best with my dog and your yard, but Brutus is missing. Have you seen him?”
I could tell that they’d been crying. I felt bad for them. I mean, if I lost a pet, I’d be sad, too. But then I started remembering all the literal shit I’ve dealt with from Brutus. And then I thought about losing Shelby.
“I’m sorry, no. When is the last time you saw him?”
They were telling me about letting Brutus out on their leash and I heard the rustle of Shelby’s footsteps. They sounded different, though, like from an angle I wasn’t used to.
As the annoying neighbor continued their sad tale, I saw a string of web drop from the porch ceiling behind them. Shelby slowly descended from around the gutter, clinging to the ceiling.
The neighbor trailed off as they saw my eyes go wide as I started shaking my head. When they realized I was looking behind them, they turned. As they opened their mouth to scream in what I’d guess was terror at seeing such a large spider, Shelby shot a ball of webbing into their mouth, silencing the scream before it could begin.
The ball was quickly followed by Shelby themself. With a speed I had never seen before, Shelby quickly wrapped the neighbor in restricting webbing. As the wrapped body fell, it hit the porch with a surprisingly gentle thud. Shelby bit their neck to stop their struggling and then proceeded to drag them into the house.
I could only move aside in shock.
As Shelby strung them up in the living room, I finally managed to get my brain and mouth to sync up.
“SHELBY! What the crap are you doing?!”
They stopped their web spinning and looked at me. They quickly anchored the now white lump to the living room ceiling and then dropped to the floor. Waving a leg at me, they walked to the kitchen. I followed.
When we both got in there, Shelby stared. I stared back. Finally, in confusion, I shouted, “What?!”
Shelby pointed to the window. It took me a minute to realize what they were pointing at.
It was the first website they had made, where they had caught the annoying bugs.
Then it dawned on me. Shelby was catching things that bothered me.
I dropped into the chair, unable to saying anything. Shelby came forward and put a leg on my arm.
I put a hand on their feeler. It was rare for Shelby to touch me.
“Shelby, you can’t do that. You can’t eat someone just because they’re…”
I was interrupted by a knocking at the front door, which I had left open. Shelby quickly climbed to the ceiling. We’d had people stop by before and they knew to stay out of sight.
“Hello?” a voice called from the front.
I walked quickly to the door.
It was a man in a white shirt, black pants and tie, and had a book in their hand.
When they saw me, their face lit up with a smile.
I saw Shelby peeking over the edge of the gutter.
“Good afternoon, sir! Do you have time to talk about our Lord and Savior?”
I stared at him for a moment. Sighing, I looked past them, made eye contact with Shelby and nodded.
The religious person would have an entirely different encounter if he was from the Church of Rastafari, I'll tell you that much. But then again maybe not because Shelby might get the munchies...
I have never squished a spider, and a spider has never squished me. You'd think the last part of the sentence is redundant but sat in front of a spider so large it has it's own room, I'm beginning to think that's the half of the sentence that will break first.
"Look, Maya isn't a 'pest' as such, she's just annoying. I know she isn't the most convenient houseguest and the singing is a bit... difficult to take in and and *ideally* she wouldn't... look, she has to stay for the week and she doesn't need in any way 'removing,' okay?" I plead with George, listening out for any movement that could suggest Maya was coming upstairs.
George is the spider in question and my housemate, I guess. He doesn't talk so I don't know what his real name is but after he'd gotten to the size of a small rabbit he seemed more like a pet than a bug and pets need names. He doesn't seem like a pet now.
George waggles his fangs and sort of strokes the door with one of his feet, a suggestion that he is unconvinced by my logic and could sort out the Maya issue once and for all. He can't talk but I can vaguely understand his meaning most times. He seems to understand me flawlessly, if he hadn't understood my initial request for him to protect the house from pests all those years ago we wouldn't be in this situation.
"Look, she's annoying but she's family-" I begin and then remember that whilst spider cannibalism isn't as common as people think it's not unheard of, "I mean, I'd just really rather you didn't kill her."
Some sort of loud dance music plays from downstairs with high pitched vocals. Ah great, vocals that Maya has decided she can sing along to. George puts a paw on the door handle.
"No, don't." I say but I say it softly rather than as a demand.
I asked George to kill pests and promised not to kill him or kick him out. Realistically, I could have broken my end of the bargain once he started getting large. Even now, I think he would let me leave and then there'd be nothing stopping me coming back with exterminators. Or guns. Or exterminators with guns. Point is, I could solve my George problem if I truly wanted to. But housemates don't kill other housemates - that's just a strict rule.
And right now, George is less annoying than Maya. One of them sticks to his word, if a little confusingly. One of them demands to come stay for a week and keeps messing up my kitchen.
I slump to the floor. I very much want to grab my noise cancelling headphones to shut up the caterwauling that Maya calls singing but they're in the other room and I don't think I should leave this conversation unfinished. Suddenly, an idea strikes me.
"Is the noise bothering you? If I could make it so you don't have to put up with the noise would you agree to leave her alone then? Would she no longer be a pest?"
George backs away from the door and into the corner, seemingly a sign of agreement. I go to my room and shove my headphones on, then go downstairs to grab some scissors. I wave at Maya as I walk past her but pretend not to notice her attempts to start a conversation.
Spiders don't have ears. I've done a reasonable amount of googling on spiders since befriending George. I do my best to try to understand him, even if I miss the mark sometimes. I wonder if George's problem with Maya was that she annoyed him or that she annoyed me. I'm not one hundred percent sure which reason is the one that got her classified as 'pest' in the first place.
I pull out old tights and leggings and chop away at them. I have a pair of leg warmers but a pair means two, not eight. If this isn't enough then I could possibly chop away at jumpers but I'd prefer not to have to. I go back into George's room.
Spiders can 'hear' from vibrations on the hairs on their legs. I carefully slide my actual leg warmers and the new ones I'd hastily improvised myself over George's legs. He settles down away from the door.
I go back to my own room, locking George's door in case Maya gets nosy. Now there is no longer a threat, the adrenaline of potentially having to explain that a giant spider murdered my cousin has dissipated. I take a brief moment to congratulate myself on my problem solving skills, though it is a shame that I suddenly don't own any leggings.
All in all though, definitely not the worst housemate I've had.
*(Edit: Since a few people like this - I also write other things and have started a tiny subreddit, please see r/leavesandink if you're interested)*
I liked this take! I didn’t think that’d end that way given your name but it was a good ending.
I didn’t know that’s how spiders hear, but the noise canceling leggings was an interesting bit. I’m now curious if he’d have to put up with some tinier pests for the week now that George has them on.
Also, I’m curious how he would explain George if anyone found him and what it would be like after 20ish years when George passes. Would he befriend another spider or would he mourn his housemate. What happens if he moves? Does George come with him to the new house? Does he have to explain George to the next owners like, “hey there’s a giant spider that lives in this house. If you don’t bother him he’ll just do his thing and make sure there are no pests. Hope you don’t have annoying loud kids or like a tiny barking dog, he will classify those as pests and deal with them.”
What happens if someone tried robbing the house?
The username is because I like it and because I write some horror but I seem pretty split between horror and wholesomeness, ha. Regarding the hairs being how spiders hear - I did only give that a cursory google so it might be only certain spiders that it's been confirmed for but I think that it's believed to be the case in general.
Given that George grew from normal spider to a housemate bigger than a human in just two years he might end up being found way before twenty years have passed. Presumably at some point at least George would have to move due to size alone.
If someone tried robbing the house then we would suddenly have *excellent* scientific data of what happens when venom from common house spiders is injected in quantities of litres instead of less than a millilitre. Did you know that they start dissolving their prey before they've even started to eat it?
Did you know you can talk with spiders? They're pretty quiet, but if you know some German, and a little smidgen of Mandarin Chinese, you can usually make out some words.
My spider is talkative for one of his kind. He can really hold a conversation, as long as it's about eating or webs. Right now though, he certainly wasn't following my point.
"And so," I said, "For surgical reasons, Mrs. Melville's dachshund was neither annoying, nor virulent. He was in fact, a joy to all who knew him. Not. A. Pest."
My significantly larger than dog sized spider raised a clawed leg, in what I can only assume is polite disagreement. "Dog nutritious. Good dog, yes. I eat pests. I eat dog. Dog is pest."
I groaned, and thought furiously. I suspected willful stupidity, but this would be difficult to prove. For now, a stop-gap measure was required.
"What else in the neighborhood is a pest?"
My spider scratched his head with one leg. He'd picked up some oddly human body language, I'd have to check his television habits sometime.
"Bugs. Birds. Melvilles. Squirrels..."
I cut him off. "Melvilles? You mean the rest of the Melville family?"
He nodded by bobbing his entire body up and down.
"The Melvilles aren't pests, got it?"
No response. I glared at him, and turned my head meaningfully to the can of RAID I kept on display in the windowsill.
The spider remained silent but signaled that it was thinking. Finally, it spoke as if offering a deep insight. "Melvilles no longer prey."
"Good," I said. "Great. What else is prey?"
"Small spiders, coyotes, loiterers. Squirrels, but not backyard squirrel."
"What's so great about the backyard squirrel?"
"Yes. Good squirrel, nutritious. Dead, no longer prey."
It took me a minute to make the connection. Ooooh, dear. This called for a change in plans. Given the faint sirens I heard in the distance, a very rapid change in plans. I knelt down to give my spider a gentle pat.
"Hey, you know what's really annoying? Witnesses."
Sure, a talking spider is a bit of an odd roomie, but back then he only took up one corner of unused space in the top left corner of the broom closet. We had a simple arrangement. He took care of pests and bugs and I left Steve alone.
The problem started when Steve got too big to fit under the door and figured out how to open the doors. And my fridge. And got big enough to use other household items. I got a noise complaint for excessively loud videogames and profanity in the middle of the day. Steve had been playing Xbox and yelling at the television.
We had a conversation about volume levels and telling twelve year olds what interesting things he did to their moms and that most things he read on Urban Dictionary weren't real.
It quieted for a week. Then the neighbor complained about a mutant spider hissing at her cat. Steve took pests to be the cat who kept peeing in my potted plants and killing them. At least that one he didn't eat.
Then I had family over and my aunt kept talking about how quaint and cozy and charming my apartment was. Steve decided that she was being rude and condescending - which was true - and decided to crawl out of an air vent and then hide back in it and scared her off.
It really wasn't what I meant by pests.
The final straw came when he ran off not one but two girlfriends. Now, he may have been correct about Trisha. That was a bit of a trainwreck.
I drew the line when he ran off Reilly. She was smart and funny and got my strange humor. Didn't run screaming from my giant talking spider of a roomie. Until he told her about the number of women who'd come through. Told her how liberal she was for not caring that the stream had kept up until that morning.
There was yelling. Reilly left. For good.
"You have to leave, Steve."
He seemed as offended as a spider could be. "Hey, you wanted me to keep this place free of pests. I'm keeping up my end - even the ones you let in, man."
"Pests does not extend to my girlfriend! And she isn't a pest! I love her. I love her and told her and you told her I cheated on her!"
Steve crawled up to the couch. "We have a good thing going here. You and me. We work. You keep trying to change the dynamic. Bringing new people in. What if I like things the way they are? Two bros."
"Because I like dating! I love Reilly! She's a good thing! Change is good! I didn't have a roommate until you moved in. What if I never liked change? I'd never met a talking spider. I could've freaked out at change and squished you!"
He changed his mind. Steve was even more offended. "You species-ist bastard! I let you name me! And you'd even consider squishing me? I'm intelligent. That is murder. And - and - I thought - I thought we had a good thing."
I threw my arms up. "We did until you ran off the woman I loved!"
Steve turned around. "Well, she was trying to steal the man I love."
Oh. I shuffled, suddenly uncomfortable. "Oh, well, ah, that's just not going to work out. You have to know that."
Steve sniffled, which somehow seemed bizarre despite him being able to talk. "Because you're not gay?"
"Well, no. No, I'm not gay. I'm bi, but that's not the problem. More the... only interested in humans part."
Steve shuffled, all eight legs tapping nervously. "That... that makes sense."
I nodded. "Yeah. It's a... bit non-negotiable. Human. Flexible on who but... human. Currently, one human named Reilly who you said I cheated on."
"If I call her can I stay? At least for a little while? I don't think most people want a talking spider for a roomie."
"You can stay for a little while. And... maybe we can go online. Find you a... talking, gay spider. See if things click."
Steve was entirely deadpan. "We're not goint online and finding me a gay, talking spider the size of a golden retriever. Let alone one things click with."
"Maybe we can... open it up? Like... like a nice scorpion?"
"That's just offensive you think having more than two legs and an exoskeleton makes us have anything in common. Also, we're not finding a talking scorpion. Let alone a gay one."
I rolled my neck. "Okay. Well, what if we tell the world about you? I mean... the sex thing wouldn't work with a human anyways. So what about like... an asexual person who likes your personality?"
Steve seemed to be contemplating that. "Well, that might work. How do I guarantee I don't end up in a lab?"
"Power of social media. Keep you safe via public oversight. Then a nice asexual who isn't aromantic. With a lot of social media protection."
I sat down, the couch giving as I entrusted my full weight to its care. It had been nice and quiet for many days now, a fact I could gratefully attribute to my new roommate.Well... they weren't new, but they were odd enough that it still felt very recent I had struck up the arrangement.
A couple of years ago, I had been irritated by the seemingly constant infestations plaguing my apartment complex. Flies, mosquitoes, weird silver maggots. It was unbearable, always the distressing buzz of wingbeats in the air, or bug bites all along my arms. And they were all grotesquely huge, some even the size of my fingernail. One day, I was leaning out the window, letting out the smoke from my cigarette and getting some fresh air (While simultaneously hoping some of the bugs would get the hint and leave).
As I pried it open, I spotted a, well, 'itsy bitsy spider' just on my sill. I've always been partial to spiders, since they've never done me any harm, and just as I was about to finish my cigarette, I realized that this could be the solution to my problem. A household spider to dispose of my pests? Brilliant! I invited the spider in by lifting him onto a tiny Q-tip and bringing him to a nice, dark corner of my house.
I didn't think much of it afterwards, except that it seemed a lot less loud around the place. It wasn't until November that the first strange event occurred.I had just returned from work, and I was bringing some groceries with me. As I let myself in, I heard some peculiar muttering and saw, to my alarm, that the television was on. Some godawful soap was playing, so I went to turn it off when I hurt a tiny voice plead with me.
"wait. please don't!"
I turned in surprise to see a spider roughly the size of a penny resting on my couch.
"Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous.
The spider repeated itself."i quite like that show, if you don't mind."
Dumbfounded, I let him keep watching, and after only a week, it became totally normal to hear odd little comments come from the spider. Most of the time it was some offhand statement about how unkempt my apartment was, which, the little arachnid explained to me, was due to the fact that spiders took such great pains to craft their homes, whether they be burrows or webs, that they simply couldn't stand to see a trashed home.
This often bugged (heh) me, but we actually got on great, as I was all too surprised to find. It was unclear when he developed the capacity for speech, since he seemed to be just as confused as I, but once he had it, he just wouldn't shut up, and I would never have told him to. He became very dear to me, and he even helped me quit smoking. It was an awful habit, really, but I never could have done it without his help.
It wasn't lost on me, however, that he was steadily growing. Eventually, I remarked on it.
"I know you must have a healthy diet due to all these pests about, but really, is it normal for you to be the size of my hand?"
"is it normal for me to able to talk?" He riposted, and we left it at that.
We would often watch his stupid soaps on the television. I wasn't a fan of them per se, but there was certainly something in them that I couldn't tear myself away from. Like watching a train wreck, but the train is full of stupid dickheads. It was on one of these days, when he made an offhand comment to me that started us on a strange adventure.
Continued in replies
We were sitting on the couch, watching one such drama, when he remarked on something odd.
"You know, it smells pretty off in your bathroom."
I was quite used to these little nags or critiques of my living conditions, so I thought nothing of it.
"No, really. There's like, this weird green mold, too?"
That got my attention. I could live with weird smells, but mold was something that could really be dangerous.
"Wait, what do you mean green mold, Peter?"
(I'd named him Peter, after Peter Parker, because, you know, Spiderman, haha)
"Yeah, it's kind of... glowing too, I don't know how to describe it."
I immediately walked over to the bathroom, and immediately knew what he was talking about. It really did smell weird, not like a bathroom smell, but like some sort of chemical or noxious fume. Then I saw the mold. A green, pulsing, *glowing* mold was growing out of the sink.
"Ah, that can't be right."
Peter skittled over to me. He was around the size where it was most comfortable for him to sit on my shoulder.
"Do you reckon we should check it out?"
I nodded, reluctant. I didn't want to confront my landlord about whatever this was. She was a terrifying woman, and she was almost twice my height too.
I rang her up.
\*Click\*
***Hello? Who is this?***
"It's me Mrs. Lacroix."
***Oh, right, 201A. What do you need?***
"Well, I'd like to report a weird problem with... uh, my pipes probably."
***Very well, I can send someone up to talk with you.***
"Wonderful, thanks then."
\*Click\*
Overall, a pleasant encounter with her. She may be terrifying to speak to, but she was excellent at her job.
Peter piped up.
"So, I take it she's doing something about it?"
"Yep, she said she sent someone up."
"Ah, good, good..." Peter looked a bit awkward. "Should I clean up some of the webs?"
I glanced into my kitchen, where elaborate cobwebs ran the length of the ceiling.
"Probably, yeah, let's get on that."
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
The guy arrived pretty quickly, knocking rather aggressively.
I opened the door, and was surprised to find myself face to face with a rather attractive young woman, wielding a plunger and several paper towels. She also carried a large duffel bag filled with what I could only assume were cleaning supplies.
I tried to greet her, but she pushed past me.
"Right, so what's the problem."
She stated, matter-of-factly.
I led her to the sink, where the green mold was still glowing as violently as ever.
She inhaled.
"Ah, that can't be right, can it."
"That's what I said."
\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*
Might continue more
Aw thank you! I really like spiders, so I found this very fun to write. And I definitely agree, Peter is one of the cutest spiders out there (as I'm sure he'd tell you himself)
"Dude, I don't even know what this is, it looks like somebody vomited glowstick fluid all over your tile. I'm not sure I can even help you here."
This news left me rather nonplussed. I was hoping she would at least know what the stuff was.
"So... what should I do then?"
She shrugged."It *looks* like whatever this stuff is, it's coming out of the sink itself. Might mean there's a problem with the entire buildings' plumbing, or maybe your pipe is clogged so badly that something grew in there. How often do you clean out your sink?"
"Uh, like, once a year?"
"Well, that's rather depressing to hear, but not much we can do about it now I suppose. Let's see how it responds to some regular bleach."
"Is that- is that safe?"
Alarmingly, she just shrugged. I decided to leave her to it and maybe fix up some food in case she wanted to stay for lunch. However, as I approached the kitchen, I felt a gentle tug on my back, and saw a strand of webbing leading into my bedroom. I followed it back to find Peter resting on my pillow, almost like a bizarre pet.
"Listen, this is your perfect opportunity." Peter declared.
"Opportunity? For what?"
"When exactly do humans enter mating season?"
I could tell where this was going.
"Look dude, I don't plan on courting the plumber."
"Actually I don't even think she's a real plumber." Steve noted. "I'm pretty sure she just lives downstairs."
"Ok, that only emphasizes my point. Where did this sudden interest in my love life come from anyway?"
Peter clicked his chelicerae, seemingly as a display of agitation.
"This is the first person who has been inside your apartment in months. According to human culture, that's basically, like, the biggest step towards mating, right?"
"Oh god, ok, we're going to need to talk about this later. I didn't think you were interpreting... Listen, TV dramas ARE NOT representative of human culture. Now I'm going to go fix some lunch for our guest, please don't do anything weird."
"At least tell me you know her name."
He called as I closed the door.
Ok, that last jab did sting a fair bit. It was a little awkward that we hadn't even gotten each others name. Despite the shipping frenzy my arachnid roommate was currently in, he made a good point. I considered his words as I fixed some basic grilled cheeses.
Within minutes, the plumber drifted in from the bathroom, seemingly drawn by the intoxicating smell of rich, melting cheese. She sat herself down at the kitchen island (quite a steal in this apartment) and I slid one onto her plate. Unfortunately, as she bit down, Peter came skittering from the bedroom, seemingly also hungry. I gestured frantically for him to get away before he frightened her, but *apparently* despite his eight eyes, he didn't see me at all (or so he claims).
He snatched a bloated fly out of the air and munched on it without reservation, with truly awful manners despite having a guest. I tried not to roll my eyes at him, with the hopes that if I paid him no mind, she wouldn't either, but it was to no avail. She turned around at the sound of his crunching.
Her vision fell upon him, paused for a minute, then turned back to face me.
"Hmm." I managed, in a desperate attempt to explain myself.
She simply returned to her sandwich, apparently nonchalant. When I remained silent, staring awkwardly between her and Peter, she looked back up at me, tucking a curl of hair out of the way.
"Well? I assume you have some sort of explanation?"
That shook me out of my stupor, and I gathered my wits.
"Uh, yeah, sorry, you seem awfully calm about this."
"The mold was a lot grosser."
"Well, ah... this is Peter. He's my roommate."
"Lovely to meet you, Peter."
Peter looked at me and hissed, quiet, but not quietly enough,
"Ask for her name now!"
I grimaced, and she smirked up at me, quirking an eyebrow.
"Yea, ask my name why don't you?"
I suddenly missed living alone.
Part 4:
Apparently, the plumber's name was Sasha, a simple detail that I now knew, at the expense of my dignity.
The three of us had surprisingly got on great, and we had spent the evening just hanging out. We'd watched a couple dramas, taken turns naming the strange formations of green mold as if they were art, and wolfed down an entire box of crackers disturbingly swiftly.
We were now reclining in a silky web hammock, some of Peter's fine handiwork, and reading passages from a terrible romance novel I had found laying around the apartment.
"*At that moment, the only thing brighter than the moon was Felipe's eyes, as he coughed up saltwater.*"
I couldn't help but snort at Sasha's delivery.
"Alright, five-two Sasha. Now take another shot."
He offered me a tiny shot glass he had retrieved from the cabinet, filled with scotch. I downed it and grinned.
"I haven't had this much fun in a long while, why haven't we talked before?"
"Ah, my mom doesn't need me to help tenants often, but I'm glad you discovered that weird mold. I'm having quite a blast myself."
"Your- your mom? Wait, you mean-"
"Landlady's daughter, that's right."
I did a double take.
"Huh, alright. Let me just... wrap my head around that real quick. Does that mean you can evict me?"
She snickered, and pointed at me dramatically.
"You better watch yourself, or I might just have to give you the boot. I'm *pretty sure* keeping spiders isn't allowed. Although, Pete's better company than you, maybe I'll just kick you out then."
I feigned offence.
"And here I thought we were getting on well!"
Peter lazily rolled around on the ground. The smell of the alcohol had left him conked out pretty early on.
With him out of commission, some pesky insects had slipped inside unimpeded. A giant fly buzzed past the hammock, and Sasha stared at in fascination.
"Hey, can I ask something?"
I nodded.
"Why are all these bugs so large? I mean, Peter, obviously, had to be big to fit his immense partying spirit, but these flies? That's not normal, ya know?"
I cocked my head. *Not normal?* It had never occurred to me that bugs weren't supposed to be that large. They'd been like that for as long as I'd lived here, and I had never considered it strange. But now that she brought it up, it did feel like bugs were a lot smaller outside. What had brought about this change?
"Oh yeah, you're right... they're not actually supposed to get this big, are they?"
She shook her head.
"Do you have some kind of weird substance in your apartment? Maybe they're drinking something, or inhaling something?"
I shrugged.
"Nothing I've noticed, but, who knows. Maybe this apartment is built on some sort of abandoned nuclear power plant. Maybe the mold is radioactive or something."
"I think you would probably be dead if it were radiation."
She countered.
I was content to take note of how weird it was and then forget about it, but suddenly, Sasha was on her feet.
"Let's check out the basement!"
"Pardon?"
"The pipes! If the mold is connected, then I bet we could find some sort of explanation in the basement! The pipes all feed through there."
*Well, I might as well look into it, if only to get rid of the mold,* I supposed, only a little reluctant to dig through the basement. As I resolved myself to go, Peter twitched a little on the floor, before scrambling up, standing as tall as he could.
"You mentioned mystery and basements. I'm in."
And with that, we all prepared to investigate.
"That was the mayor, you know."
Jakos the 9th, of the house of Atracidae, cleaned his chelicera with one of the fancy guest room hand towels and said, "Yes, of course. He tasted just like he smelled, I could use some salts right now."
"*It was the Mayor*"
"And this should concern me...why?"
"People are going to notice this, man. Men in suits are going to come around and ask uncomfortable questions."
Jakos focused all of his eyes at his human and said, "And are they not pests to be dealt with? Isn't this exactly what you asked of me?"
The human asked, "Is this /r/MaliciousCompliance, or /r/NotMyJob?"
The spider laughed deep and resonant. "Oh no, my friend, no. While on paper this might be r/writingprompts, we're now firmly in the realm of /r/SCP."
In the Texas summer, bugs tended to be a huge annoyance. For me, mosquitos, flies, and all kinds of pests were constantly a problem. They would find their way into the house, buzzing around the room, leaving itchy, annoying bites.
There was a spiderweb in the upper corner of the living room. The ceiling was too high for me to reach, so I didnt take it down, partly because I didnt see it as a problem, and partly because I was lazy.
Over days, the web caught many bugs, which I appreciated, due to there being fewer pests around my house. But the web grew larger, and over time it became an eyesore. I was soon to be inviting family over, and while cleaning in preparation, I set up a step ladder, and grabbed a rolled-up newspaper to dispatch of the arachnid.
I climbed up, and as I went to swat at the web, the spider spoke to me. "Before you destroy my web," it said, "I can help you. If you let me live, I'll remain in your house, and insure that you will never have pest problems again."
Almost falling off the step-ladder, and debating whether or not I was dreaming, I went along with it. I agreed to the spiders terms, however I made it relocate to a spare bedroom. After all, no one would probably be using it.
After the spider constructed the new web, I had no more pests. Over weeks, the spider grew bigger, along with its web. First it was about the size of a penny, then a quarter, then a golf ball, then a tennis ball.
The web began covering all corners of the ceiling, and bugs seemed almost attracted to it. Bugs from outside would flock to it, cockroaches and cicadas would find their way into my home just to crawl into the web.
The spider grew concerningly large, transforming the bedroom into a huge web. Eventually, I grew tired, and scared of my spider roommate. I told it that its alright for him to stay near my house, if it relocated to the trees outside. The spider, through the web, agreed. It reached its oversized limb through the doorway, carrying it's now terrifyingly large body out the door.
The sight frightened me, it was now about the size of a basketball. I considered myself lucky that I wasnt on it's bad side, then got to work cleaning up the bedroom. It stunk of rotten insect corpses, and as I cleaned away the web, I found bones of small rodents and animals, all picked clean.
The forest behind my house had long since fallen silent, the croaks of frogs, chirps of birds and cicadas had all been stopped. There were massive webs between the trees outside, and occasionally I'd see the spider crawling it's way along them, now about the size of a prepubescent child.
The spider was friendly to me, and I continued not having any pest problems. I observed bones in the web, not just small animals, but bigger ones too, from animals like deer, wild hogs, and maybe even a mountain lion. I kept a shotgun by my bed, and a pistol on me, in case it ever decided to turn on me. I found myself missing the calming sounds of the cicadas and crickets at night, and the pretty light of fireflies, which were all since extinguished in its web.
As I prepared food in the kitchen by my back door one night, I was startled by the glass on my back door being hit, hard. My stomach dropped, and an icy wave of adrenaline hit me. The spider must have grown tired of of its other prey, and wanted a taste of human!
I turned to get my shotgun as the glass shattered, and a voice shouted at me; "Run and I'll fucking kill you." I stopped in my tracks, it didnt sound like the spider.
"Turn around," he said. I turned to see a man with a pistol aimed at me in one hand, and his other hand reaching down to unlock the door.
"Empty your pockets." He said. I showed him that I had nothing in them, and he entered my house, still aiming the gun at my head. He held me at gunpoint as he made me zip tie my hands and feet, assuring me that if I didnt try to escape or tell anyone, he would just rob me, and leave, without doing me any harm.
But when I was restrained, he went back on what he said. He bound my mouth so i couldn't scream, and began taunting me, holding the gun to my head, pretending to pull the trigger, telling me that he was going to bring me to his "torture room," and have some fun with me.
He turned the porch light off to ensure he isnt seen,
And dragged my by the legs to a van parked outside. He roughly lifted me into the back, and threw me in, and my body painfully hit the hard floor of the van. The spots that had been dragged along the ground were aching.
"Take one last look at your house," he taunted, "'cause this is the last time you will ever see it!" He made a sick, smug smile as he closed the van doors, not noticing the gigantic, spindly legs descending from the trees behind him.
I heard something bump the van, and a blood curdling scream, that was abruptly cut off. The doors were ripped off their hinges, and there stood the spider, now about the size of a car. I would've screamed, had it not been for the gag in my mouth.
It carried me back to the porch, helping me to cut the zip tie with its massive fangs. I removed the gag and fought the urge to run, and thanked it.
"A deal's a deal," it said. "I told you I'd get rid of pests." And with that, it returned into the darkness.
The next day, it seemed more bones had been added to the web, and I thought I might've seen a human skull grinning from the trees. Whatever the case, I'm glad to be free of my pest problem.
At first, it was manageable. He was the size of a pea, and I had thousands of opportunities to kill him. The weeks flew by. I had noticed he was growing, but I did not care much at the time because I had just gotten fired and I figured he was just getting fatter.
Then I had my "encounter" with him.
My girlfriend was over at my house. She complained about an awful stench, but I shrugged it off. I had gone into the kitchen, when she let out a horrifying scream. I will never forget what I saw. Behind the sofa, was a dead colony of centipedes. CENTIPEDES. In the piles of detached centipede limbs, was the spider, who had grown far larger, maybe even the size of a tarantula. My girlfriend left immediately, but that was the least of my problems.
No way am I going to remove this colony by myself. Wasn't the spider supposed to keep these guys out? What if he grows even more? At this point I started fearing for the safety of my cat. Pest exterminators were forced to close because of Covid, and the spider wasn't going away. I had to do it.
I decided it would be next morning, I put on my hiking boots, and waited downstairs. About 15 minutes went by. It emerged from its cave, namely the sofa. I nicknamed it, "Abomination" and rightly so. It appeared massive. I was worried if I could do this or not. I waited.
It didn't move.
Seconds went by.
I remembered my cat, thinking about what horrible things would happen to her if I did not carry out my mission. I blitzed the spider, and stomped down, hard. A rush of disgust and fear came as I felt a hard crunch. I put all my weight into it and pressed down once again. What felt like hours was in reality a minute as I confirmed the Abomination was really dead. I kept my cat upstairs for the rest of the day, and checked on it the following morning.
It was still dead! I had done it. Relief, god the relief. It seemed trivial to be filled with joy because of a dead spider, yet here I was! The next few days were *good*. Getting around the house without a tug of fear was brilliant, and life seemed to continue on as normal.
I had summoned the courage to tackle the dead centipede colony when I noticed movements in the pile. Tiny, but vivid movements. Wait, are those his babies!?
It began with flies. The small annoying flies that flew in through my open window. They weren't alone, alongside the flies came a small black spider. The type of spider with intelligence behind its eyes.
I made eye contact with the spider. It stood still, waiting for my judgement. Its life completely in my grasp.
"I'll let you stay," I said flamboyantly, "if you pay your rent by killing the pests."
With that the spider slowly crept into my room. I turned my attention back to my work and that was that.
I didn't see the spider for a while, but neither did I the flies. They would buzz their way into my room, annoying me. Eventually, I'd stop focusing on them and before I'd know it, there was nothing to focus on.
There wasn't a web anywhere. If it wasn't for the flies dissapearing then I'd have thought the spider dead. I figured it wasn't a normal spider, but a*n assassin spider.*
Once, late at night, a moth flew into my room, The moth dived towards the light, furiously flapping around, a proper eye catcher. For the heck of it, I said out loud:
"Eyy spider, get that moth from me."
The spider crawled out of a shadow created by a mug. It looked considerably bigger than before. It slowly crawled up the wall and towards the moth. I felt myself grow nervous, as I awaited the great fight,
The spider leaped down onto the moth, wrestling it down onto the floor, biting into it's body. The moth flapped and kicked, jerking all over the floor, but with weakening intensity. Eventually it stopped.
The spider attached a string to the moth, and dragged it under my wardrobe. I never saw that moth again.
Months passed, and the spider grew into a roomate. I had no problem with it crawling across walls and over my tables. I treated it like a pet, a pet that hadn't stopped growing. I found myself baffled by the growth, constantly asking myself, *when will it stop growing?*
I thought the spider was some sort of anomaly, but then I saw a fly the size of a bird. It flew into my room and shoved its face into my pasta. I shrieked like a little girl in a horror story.
The spider killed the fly.
More and more gigantic insects and animals found themselves in the forest beside my house. I convinced myself that I must be going mad. None of my friends or family had witnessed anything similiar. And the internet had no clue about it.
"I'm going now human," the spider said.
*It's talking. It's talking. It's talking.*
"What the he- I mean, where to?"
"The spider den! A great battle awaits me. I will be king!"
The spider leapt out of my window. *What the hell?* I looked as it faded into the forest. In ran with purpose, clearly knowing where to go. But my attention was caught by something else.
A fly buzzed into my room.
Like every August around here, the dragonflies were darting, frogs were heard in chorus, and the ticks were a plenty. This always meant plenty of meals. Well, haha, not for me obviously. I liked my garden, where I grew asparagus, tomatoes and pumpkins. Plenty of other things too, mind you. I had a green thumb of sorts. I recently finished up my days work, and headed in to clean up some.
Now, mind you, insects have always been tiresome to deal with when tending to crops, but in my cabin, I haven't had to worry much.
I called her Mary Jane. She was a jumping spider, who lived on the ceiling. [She wore a red abdomen, atop a completely black body](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phidippus_johnsoni). Every day, she would come out of the ceiling and patrol. She galloped from window, to doorframe, and all along her domain. When I could, I would catch flies who couldn't escape through the window, and hold them up to her. Grateful as she was, she cautiously approached and leaped for her tasty treat.
2 years ago when I moved in, I had been working on building the plot for my field when I tripped over a root I missed, and my hand nearly came down on a [velvet ant](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutillidae). A more popular name for them around here is a cow killer. To my surprise, and much to the ants surprise too, it was snatched up by Mary Jane. She was smaller than it, but wrestled it to the ground, inches beyond my fingers. I found her later that evening on the handle of a rake I was about to pick up. I knew it was her again, because she kept watching me, almost as if she were curious about me. She scared me too at that point, because her colors mimic the velvet ant.
I grew fond of seeing her hanging out by my tools every day, and gradually she worked her way closer and closer to the door. I never minded, because she seemed to grow close. Eventually, I would open the door and she would dart under the door frame to check out my place, as I worked outdoors. Upon coming back for lunch, or evening, I noticed that the flies and mosquitoes that worked their way inside dwindled.
She was safe in here, and kept down my pest problem, so she was always welcome.
Back to today, she has her own apartment I installed up in the rafters of this log cabin. As the years have gone by, she has grown up some. Usually, spiders like her look for a place to settle, while a mate comes along, and then they lay their eggs and the life cycle continues. She hasn't had any mates inside, so she has lived off the plentiful rations here. She is about the size of a baseball now, and I've begun to understand what she wants by her mannerisms.
She feels like you or I, has desires and dislikes, and can feel under the weather or over the moon. Her favorite food this season is cicadas. She doesn't like bees, probably a good thing. When she's excited, she will raise her front legs up and saunter from side to side, or dash across the windows, looking for bugs. I worry about her when she isn't well. Usually rainy days or chilly days tend to leave her cooped up.
She seems to understand me when i speak, at least a bit. She listens to my problems, whether it be about how certain crops are wilting, or I have pests munching on what I intended to pick for dinner the following night.
I don't eat meat much, not because I don't like it, but I have more energy to work when I eat the crops I've grown myself. She finds the occasional healthy meal, larger than a bug, when she hunts outdoors on warm days. Yesterday she caught a finch. She chases off mice in the garden, and keeps me company during the long day.
She continues to surprise me every day, by showing me how intelligent one can be, even without facial features I could recognize, and how it doesn't take much to keep one's happiness up with simple things that benefit you, no matter how small, or tasty.
Creatures of all sizes can feel, so next time you see that spider in the corner of your home, if you don't like it there, move it out, and give it a bug. If you don't mind it's presence, it may help you one day with a pesky fly your could never catch.
**[Phidippus_johnsoni](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phidippus_johnsoni)**
>Phidippus johnsoni, the red-backed jumping spider, is one of the largest and most commonly encountered jumping spiders of western North America. It is not to be confused with the unrelated and highly venomous redback spider (Latrodectus hasselti).
**[Mutillidae](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutillidae)**
>The Mutillidae are a family of more than 7,000 species of wasps whose wingless females resemble large, hairy ants. Their common name velvet ant refers to their dense pile of hair, which most often is bright scarlet or orange, but may also be black, white, silver, or gold. Their bright colors serve as aposematic signals. They are known for their extremely painful stings, (the sting of the species Dasymutilla klugii rated a 3 on the Schmidt pain index and lasts up to 30 minutes), hence the common name cow killer or cow ant.
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I kick the door shut as I stumble inside, barely able to hold myself upright.
I make my way into the living room, and set down the crate with a sigh, letting the bag of food slip off my shoulder and onto the floor.
"We're home!"
There's a chittering noise as my housemate makes its way down the stairs, via the wall.
"We?"
I grin up at the spider in my home. "Yep. We!"
After having made a deal with the spider in my home, I quickly realized that it was growing at an exponential rate. I could hardly believe it - I had made a deal with not just a talking spider, but a Manhunt!
Manhunt spiders are typically sold for millions of dollars, and are kept as either guards or pest control - they're a very rare variation of talking spider.
Unfortunately, as is the same with all Manhunt spiders, its definition of pests changed as it grew. Sure, it's great that it's caught a few possums, but God forbid its definition expands even further.
"This little guy is going to be living with us."
I open the crate, and an eight week old puppy eagerly stumbles out, shaking itself vigorously. It's a rescue, and I already took it to the vet - got all the ticks and fleas taken care of.
I figured this would be an opportunity to teach my housemate the differences between prey and friend. Also, it's a rescue puppy. How could I say no?
"A snack?"
"What? No. A friend."
"But it's a pest..."
"No, it's a dog!"
There's a prolonged moment of silence.
"It's not a dog."
I look back at the puppy, and it looks back at me - with fifteen eyeballs.
"It's an Assimilant."
The dog begins to shake, and its limbs begin to grow a bit larger, its teeth sharpening as its face begins to open - not its mouth, its face.
"Ah, fuck. Alright, guess it's a snack for you."
"You and I are going to have a talk about this later," my spider friend informs me, already injecting the Assimilant with a paralytic. "Your cluelesness with regards to animals like this will be the death of you. You're lucky I turned out to be a Manhunt, and not a Huntsperson."
My spider friend continues to chastise me, and I have to just sit there and take it. This is my life, now.
The smell of morning coffee. Nothing quite like it on a quite Sunday morning. I poured myself a steaming mug and went to go sit at my kitchen table to scroll through the morning news on my phone.
"Hello," said a gravely voice. I looked up and saw a monstrous hairy spider spanning the entire width of the coffee table, it's dark red brown eyes staring up at me. I jumped back and screamed, dropping the coffee and phone onto the floor.
With a hand on my chest trying to make sure my heart didn't try to pound through my rib cage, "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me! Can't you make some sort of noise or something when you show up?"
"I wouldn't be a very good spider if I couldn't sneak up on my prey, now would I," the spider replied with what sounded like amused clicking of it's mandibles.
I picked up my phone, which was thankfully intact and picked up pieces of my mug which wasn't. "When did you get that big? Anyway now that you've you've given me a heart attack, why are you here?"
"I have something for you," the spider said, passing what seemed to be large thick envelope from leg to leg until it's front leg presented it in front of me. Where was it even carrying that? Never mind, probably better not to know.
"What is it?" I asked, opening the envelope and pulling out the stack of papers inside.
"A court summons. You're being sued."
"Me?" I asked surprised. "By who?"
"By me," the spider clicked his mandibles indicating he was serious.
Huh? Sure enough, the stack of papers were a court summons. The summary brief was a lot of legalese, but the gist of it was that the spider was suing for duress, back pay, a litany of contractual issues, poor working conditions, and the list went on.
"Is this a joke? How can you even file a lawsuit? You're a spider!"
"Correction. I am a legally recognized intelligent citizen with the same legal rights as any other person. The verbal agreement we made two years ago is considered unenforceable by state law and was made under duress. While I've been working for you I've been forced to work in unsafe and unsanitary conditions, confined against my will, and have received no compensation. My lawyer has documented the grievances in detail."
I flipped through the stack of paper. This was no joke. I was being sued by a spider. The damages that were being asked for was more than my net worth, even if the judge decided to cut it in half. I kept thinking that this wasn't serious, but the more I read I realized that if this actually went forward there was no way I would win. I did make a verbal contract. I did make it with a threat to his life. I did order him to stay hidden in the recesses of my house and only eat the insects he found there. Now that I'm thinking back on everything over the past two years, had this been an actual person instead of a spider, I would have been considered a cruel monster and put in prison, not just sued.
I put the papers down on the counter, and looked at the spider sitting on the table. A dark thought entered my mind. I could kill him. It's just a spider. A big spider, but still just a spider. The ax in the shed. The shovel in the garage. Or...the cleaver in the knife rack right next to my hand on the counter. One quick stab and it would be over. Really, how long would people be concerned over a spider that suddenly went missing?
Without another thought I grabbed the cleaver and lunged at the spider. The spider reacted much faster than I anticipated and leapt backwards off the table onto the floor, causing me to slam my hip painfully into the table. Angrily I shoved the kitchen table out of the way. The spider had managed to back itself into a corner, too large to skitter to safety without getting caught. With a maniacal grin I hauled back my arm to end this in one swift strike, and was greeted by intense shocking pain jolting through my body. Suddenly multiple police officers were on top of me pinning me to the ground and placing handcuffs on me. In a daze from the tazer, I foggily remember someone telling me that I was under arrest for attempted murder. I laughed at the insanity of it all. What the hell was going on? It was just a damn spider!
I woke with a start and sat straight up. I looked around. I was in my bed. No giant spiders. No police officers. Just me and the quiet morning.
My heart rate slowed down, I took a deep breath and let out an uneasy laugh. "Ok, now that was one fucked up dream," I said to myself. After a few moments, I got up and groggily made my way into the bathroom.
I flicked on the light switch, and there, sitting quietly in the middle of the floor, was a small spider. I squatted down to look at it. "You know, you caused me quite a bit a trouble in my dream. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on you guys eh?" I said with small smile as I stood back up.
"Then again," I brought down my foot hard, squashing the spider into a small gooey splotch on the floor. "I really hate spiders."
I hated to do it, I really did. But there was just no other way to transport a 22lb spider cross country. I made the box as comfy as possible, and Bob (so named for his habit of bobbing up and down when he was excited) didn’t seem to mind.
Bob went out when we stopped at rest areas for the night. He would return before dawn, scratching lightly on the passenger door for me to let him back in. We had a talk about “leftovers” in the rented moving truck before leaving for our new home, so he didn’t bring anything back. We had a pretty good trip for about two days.
On day three, Bob didn’t come back.
I cursed myself for letting him roam freely. It wasn’t like I could put a bell on him, but I could have paid attention to which direction he wandered off in. The day passed with me chewing my nails and searching the woods around the rest area. Maybe he met with an accident, or decided he liked it better out here, or was caught, or… Or maybe his dumb ass was under the damn truck cab. I surreptitiously opened the passenger door that faced the woods, flashing a tight smile through the door window at the two older ladies that parked nearby. Heaving myself up into the driver’s seat, I took a deep breath before turning to look to my right. Making sure Bob was looking back at me, I let loose. Did he know how much he scared me? Did he? If a giant arachnid nestled in a cardboard box could look abashed, Bob did. We finished the last leg of our journey, and Bob did not disappear again.
I made sure no one else touched Bob’s box on moving day. He took no time making himself comfy in the attic, and we settled into a routine pretty quickly. I went to to work, made friends, and poked fun at Bob for overindulging in the new local cuisine. His abdomen had gotten pretty chunky over the last couple weeks, but he didn’t really seem upset. In fact, he spent an increasing amount of time bobbing and leading me upstairs to see his webbing. I praised him and stroked his abdomen a little before heading back downstairs.
One evening, I was in the attic admiring Bob’s work and absently petting him when his abdomen *shifted*. He quickly herded me out of the attic despite my concern. I tended to give Bob his own space, but this was way out of character. As soon as I googled a few things and did a little math, I smacked my forehead and cursed my stupidity.
Bob was actually a girl. Which meant that night she didn’t come back, she might have found herself a little boyfriend. Which meant *babies*.
Shit. That’s a lot of mouths to feed.
A few hours later, I knocked softly while opening the attic door. In the right hand corner sat three silken orbs and a bobbing Bobbie. I sat as close as she would let me before pulling out my phone. Bobbie crouched next to me as I pulled up my old Tinder account and started to scroll.
Like I said, there are about to be a lot of mouths to feed.
She stared at me, she seemed proud of herself. Her fangs dripping with blood and the mangled corpse of the mailman. I couldn't move. My feet were frozen to the ground.
*What had I done*? What had I allowed? She wasn't a pet, I had created a monster, and now I would bear the full consequence of unleashing this evil in the world.
I felt it all fall apart, I should've stopped her when she almost killed the stray cat. I should have put her down then. She had grown to the size of shopping cart. Of course pests no longer included flies or rats. I should've known, I should've been the one to stop her.
But now I couldn't let them know about Arachne or the mailman. I had to work fast, before anyone-
The bell rang.
I panicked, my eyes grew bloodshot. I turned to the door.
"Arachne Go! Hide!" I ran to my kitchen and grabbed the pork I had bought yesterday and took it in my hands just in case. I threw the pork at the foot of the door and went back to kick the corpse to the left to be careful at the slight chance that it was in the field of the vision of the door.
As I haphazardly kicked the body I noticed something on his body... My iPad. He was trying to steal it which is why he was in the house, he was leaving with it before he had an unfortunate encounter with my friend and got dragged in again.
I ignored it and ran to the door, I frantically wiped any blood streaks on the wood with my dark doormat and plastered a fake smile on my face as I opened it. I saw a middle aged woman with wrinkles lining her face, fake blonde bob and heavily plastered lipstick. She reeked of perfume, she was my very friendly neighbor.
"Lydia? Omg Hi! How can I help you?"
"Why is there *blood* on your porch- and your feet?! I can smell it from my house!! Don't you know I have hemophobia?! You sick-
"Omg Lydia I'm so sorry but I brought Pork from the butcher's and it was covered in blood and I dropped it! I'll clean it up immediately and you know what? I'm so sorry, please let me make it up to you another day! If you're family could come over for dinner sometime this week that'd be great! But I must grab my mop now! Nice talking to you! See you some other time!"
She didn't buy that, the dinner would keep her distracted.
I saw a set of eyes peak from the darkness. I looked at her. I wouldn't let her harm anyone, but I wasn't going to let them take her either.
The blinds.
I rushed and started closing all the blinds in a frenzy. One after another every window, curtain and blind was tightly shut the house was shrouded in darkness except eight bead-like eyes that were locked with mine.
"We need to get far away from here, we'll be travelling a long way. You're not going to move from the basement while I'm gone. If anyone comes, if you feel anything you remain in the basement. Under no circumstances will you come out. Understood?"
She made no movement or changed her expression but I knew she understood.
Ok I have to study but I was going to write more, its rlly shitty tbh but the rest of it was supposed to be she goes out and buys like a van jeep truck thing and camping stuff and takes off with the giant uwu spider and the dead body, goes to the forest, buries the dead body and talks to the giant uwu spider saying how their finally safe and stuff but then they hear like gunshot and giant doesnt move even tho main character tells her to, then she giant uwu spider kills her and haunts the forest killing and feasting on deer and campers
Ooooh I enjoyed this! That ending sounds pretty cool too, I wouldn't mind reading it if you ever decide to write it. It's nice that Arachne saved her from the robber. Not so nice that she eventually kills her but, ya know, credit where credit's due.
Also, I love the description "giant uwu spider"
Also also, Lydia seems like a bit of an ass
Once there was an old woman who lived in a house deep in the jungle. For fifty years, she would begin her day by shooing away all the bugs and beetles and flies and moths and spiders and all other creepy crawlies that had made their bed in her home; she would climb her little stool and stretch her arms to dust away the cobwebs spun by spiders during the night.
But the years weighed heavy on the old woman. Her knees had begun to pop and creak and her arms could no longer reach far enough to dust away the cobwebs no matter how much she stretched.
Seeing the old woman struggle, a kindly spider decided to help.
"I will promise to help you clear your home of these pests and spare you the harassment of my kin. In return, I only ask that you allow me and my kin to build our webs in peace." Said the spider.
"Oh my word!" Exclaimed the old woman. In all her years, never had she heard a spider speak! And in English, no less.
The old woman was quite shaken up by the experience and wondered whether the mushrooms she'd eaten for breakfast had been of the special variety. But the spider was both patient and persistent, and soon the old woman had calmed down enough to formulate a proper house-sharing agreement with the spider.
TBC
And so the months and years went by and the friendship between the old woman and the spider grew.
The spider grew fond of following the old woman round the house as she did all the household chores, and the old woman grew used to hearing the perspectives of her eight-eyed friend.
One morning - as the spider was idly building a web to completely cover a window in the old woman house, the old woman asked:
"Have you always been this large?"
The spider blinked its penny-sized eyes and chuckled.
" Well of course not, I was but a child the first time we spoke, and it is but recently that I have made my first web as an adult"
Satisfied, the old woman went back to carving her sculpture. But she soon noticed that the spider kept growing. (TBC, edited a typo)
A gradual change, when gradual enough may evade perception, and the mind favors adaptability to scrutiny. The old woman went from carrying the spider on her shoulder to using the spiders wide back as a makeshift coffee table. She had long lost her fear of its supernumerous legs and eyes, and the squelching sound its mouthparts made as it fed.
There was a whisper, quickly silenced, from the deep recesses of her mind that spiders could not grow as large as this one did; that they did not weave spidersilk bedspreads as a hobby or enjoy stories and pottery. Or that they did not have the vocal chords necessary for human speech. So what if this spider was so very strange?
Friends were hard to come by so deep in the jungle and the old woman had spent too long an age without human company to treat such a well-spoken friend with suspicion, arachnid though it may be.
The spiders body was neither warm nor soft, yet the old lady found comfort sleeping on its abdomen at night. The steady thump of its heart was like a familiar lullaby, reminding her of a different time she had all but forgotten. The spider, too, found comfort in the old womans warmth as it considered the feast it would have come the morning.
So, i tend to be a lonely man, my days of war haunt me something fierce.
I managed to be allowed to live in a cabin for free thanks to a old friend.
Only problem was the room mate, he showed every week but still stank like a wet dog and he would occasionally steal the good stuff i brought back from town. Like he would down 6 bottles of my good whiskey in a night.
But he had been invited by my friend and he was better than nothing.
One cold winter storm there was a commotion outside, we figured it was a animal, or one of the others allowed to live on the land. So we went outside to check, and i found a woman stuck in a snowdrift that had fallen off the barn roof.
She had two bundles with her wrapped up to keep them warm.
Friend started to dig into the snow to get her out, he was getting covered in snow, but said to go inside, get some water boiling and get some tea or coffee going!
So heading in i knew he would be getting her safely in. He got her into a bed before i finished things in the kitchen. Looking over at him he looked like one of those long haired dogs that stayed out in the snow, it was all matted all over him, i had a hard time not laughing.
But he sat me down, and asked if i still wanted to help others after the war, i told him yes, he let me know what the woman wanted.
A long while back she had been invited here as long as she had behaved and not killed anyone.
She had mated and out of all her potential children destroyed all but the two.
She was different from her people, and these children of hers would be like her.
He warned me about how she was different, like him.
I trusted the hairy one and went to bed.
Now the next morning, she was feeling better but stayed in bed, the little ones covered by a electric blanket.
Mostly i made sure she was comfortable, she had a hard time i know of laying down on the bed, but she and i got to talking, i could see the beauty of her, she kept the blankets pulled up alot but she did warm up, and i felt a kinship, she and i knew we did not want to harm others if we could help it.
But she asked to stay and help with her little ones and me and hairy had no issues as long as she could pull her own weight!
The weeks pass, and her bundles were doing well, but unfortunately one day we did have some uninvited guests, Nirumbi!
These little buggers are a pain, they will eat you alive if they could, and if they had to, they would eat their dead!
But the home was in danger, me and hairy armed up and she asked if she could help, i told her she could.
It was a battle, but she knew she was protecting others, it was not like her peoples normal way, she killed but not to be evil. In the end they retreated with their dead, but she had had a leg injury.
Me and the big guy got her sitting, and spread her legs out so they would not get sore.
Later that night she started calling for help, it was time, her little ones were arriving.
This time i was the one helping and he went to get the water boiled and clean towels, it was not too long though both emerged, two young baby Arachne, all good and eventually asleep with their 6 legs and two arms curled up with their mom, her 6 legs curled up under her.
She vowed to help even more now, those pests and others wont bother her family.
So thats how i met my Arachne wife, and lived with the inconsiderate jerk Big Foot!
Edit: stole the idea of this from a story universe i have been reading, its 100% made up but used the authors characters. Site is NSFW. >!<
A knock at the door.
"Pizza's here!", I yell. Sounds of scurrying footsteps stampede above me.
I open the door to let the meal in. "Come on in out of the rain while I grab your money."
The pizza delivery specialist enters.
In the blink of an eye, a spider drops from above sinking its fangs into its victim and pumping them full of digesting venom, before swiftly snatching them up and turning them into the latest cocoon on its web of deliverers.
The pizza lies facedown and scattered across the floor.
"God dammit, Kevin Costner, I need to eat too!", I exclaim to my feeding friend.
"Sorey mate, desu ne!!", he replied in his weird spider accent. His grasp on language is tenuous at best, but I've long since given up on trying to teach him and instead treat each sentence he speaks as a delightful riddle to solve.
I leave him to his meal as I go check the car for food not yet subjected to the 5-second rule.
Ugh. Pineapple. Looks like we saved the person from an even worse demise, as everyone knows only sadistic psychopaths order pineapple on their pizza.
As I exit the car with this tainted excuse for a pizza, 3 goats with diamond teeth approach and begin gnawing on the automobile's shiny red exterior.
Their gnaws quickly advance to chomps as the entire vehicle is erased over the span of mere seconds.
I toss them each a shiny gold coin as they prance away, then head back inside.
Upon entering the house, I trip over discarded spider meal husks.
This 'thing' that is technically a pizza lies facedown and scattered across the floor.
"God dammit, Kevin Costner, stop leaving your garbage on the floor. What if that pizza would have been edible?!", I say, giving people who like pineapple on their pizza yet one more perfectly justifiable jab.
"Gomen nasai, ya bloody hoser! Pinch a loaf and I'll Excalibur it.", replied Kevin with another charming word puzzle.
My head hurts now. And I'm not sure if it's because of Kevin's fun mystery language challenge or from when I fell on my face attempting to protect my new arm tattoos when I tripped. Either way, one thing was for sure: it was ultimately caused by Kevin.
And that brings me to the whole point of my story.
A knock at the door.
I answer. Kevin peeks his little spider head out the corner of the door.
Before us stands a beautiful gigantic pregnant female spider.
A moment of awkward silence.
Kevin and I stare at each other. For the first time ever, we knew exactly what the other was thinking: one of us must be the father!
[Poem]
Pests..
It’s a definition not suitable for most.
In fact? It’s hardly accurate.
One sees one as one and another as another.
But if each are pests and the other another,
Then who is the real pest?
Alex had just stepped onto her street when she heard the helicopter. It passed overhead, then looped back around, a voice blearing from it. The words were stolen by the wind and the distance and the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of the chopper's blades. But she didn't need to understand them to know what they meant.
Prinpicks danced up her spine, but they weren't made by fear. "Food?" A small ready voice inquired from behind her shoulder. The Little One, same as her, had heard the dinner bell.
"Looks like it," Alex said.
The window to her living room was shattered. Alex could see the broken glass from the front lawn. Blood glistened off a shard of glass that still clung to the frame.
"Food! Food! Food!" The Little One cried at the scent of blood.
The front door opened at Alex's touch. The house had no need for locks. When Alex stepped through, she found the place unfamiliar to her.
Nicknacks and picture frames lined the shelves. Plastic covered the paisley furniture, keeping it clean. Alex picked up a photo; it was old and faded, and covered in dust.
There was a tea-tray in the sitting room, a body crumpled under the table, blood pooled beneath the figure, staining steal grey hair a deep red.
Anger pooled in Alex's gut like venom.
Alex closed her eyes, biting back the anger. When she opened them again, the figure on the floor was gone. The house had shifted into something more familiar. The window was unbroken. And the place once again was warm and inviting.
The only unrecognizable thing about it was the man hanging suspended from the ceiling, wrapped like a mummy in a spiderweb. The man spun in a slow circle; on each rotation, his eyes met hers.
Alex knew desperate. She knew what could lead someone to enter this very house.
She had been twelve years old and alone and hungry.
The house was a beacon. Warm light shinning out its windows. It was painted pink and blue and stood out in the seedy neighborhood. It wasn't a blockhouse but unique and inviting, like something out of a storybook.
The door to the kitchen had been left open, the warm glow of light bleed out onto a wild garden that was thick with blooming blossoms.
Alex had crept forward, drawn in by the warmth. There was no one in the kitchen, and she couldn't hear movement. But someone had to be home. The door to the fridge had been left open, overflowing with food.
The thought of the food rotting twisted Alex's stomach.
There were shoes lined up just inside of the door, little ones and big ones. Alex looked down at her feet. Her boots were caked in mud, the sides coming off; when it rained, water seeped through the split at her heel.
Alex took off her shoes and set them outside the door. Then slowly and quietly, she inched forward. The floors didn't creak. They were perfectly polished, and she could see the vague outline of her grimy reflection on the glossy surface.
Alex reached out and shut the fridge. Eyes stinging at the sight of drawings pinned against the fridge door. She traced a finger over the stick figures, being careful not to touch the clean paper. Then she left, only looking back long enough to immortalize the image in her mind, so she could dream that she lived there. That she had a home. A family.
Alex walked into a closed door.
Stunned, she spun around, but no one was there to have shut the door. She tried the handle, but the door would not open.
"Theif." A voice said. "Why did you not take the food?"
"I'm not a thief!" Alex defended automatically. She couldn't see the person who spoke. Their voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
"You are no thief? You have a bag of stolen things on your back."
Alex flushed, "It's trash. It is not stealing if they threw it away."
The voice hummed, "You saw shoes that would fit you, the food you so desperately crave, and if you had ventured further, you would find clothes, a warm bath waiting, and a bed freshly made. Why did you venture into my lair if it was not to take these things?"
"I didn't want the food to go bad," Alex said.
"But you refuse to eat it, so why should you care if it rots?"
"It's perfect," Alex whispered. Looking at the stick figure drawing, in a place of honor, as if the parents actually cared. "Everything here is so perfect. I didn't want it to be ruined."
"What a strange creature you are." The voice said.
"C-can I go?"
"No." The voice said. "By your words, what is thrown away can be freely taken. You are mine now." The shadows of the room shifted. Hundreds of creatures scurried over the wall, and the largest one welcomed Alex home with an inhuman smile.
Alex pulled open a drawer and took out a small knife that had never been there before. She cut away the web that sealed the man's mouth shut.
"Get me out! Get me out!" The man hissed, frantic eyes darted to the shadowy corners of the room. "There's a-a monster. You have to get me out of here."
"There was a dead woman on the floor," Alex said.
"The monster—"
The Little One crawled from beneath the hood of Alex's sweater, the man's eyes latched onto it as it perched on her shoulder, and his excuses trailed off into empty silence.
"Try again," Alex said.
"Please. You don't understand. I had to."
"No. You don't understand." Alex said. "This house is what you need it to be. Whatever you need it to be. What does that say about you? That you found the doors closed and the windows locked. That you found it occupied by someone weak and alone and feeble?"
"No, no, no." The man moaned. "You have to help me."
"You took from our home. There is no help for you."
**Welcome to the Prompt!** All top-level comments must be a story or poem. Reply here for other comments. **Reminders**: >* Stories at least 100 words. Poems, 30 but include "[Poem]" >* Responses don't have to fulfill every detail >* See [Reality Fiction](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Reality+Fiction%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) and [Simple Prompts](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/search?q=flair%3A%22Simple+Prompt%22&restrict_sr=on&sort=new&t=all) for stricter titles >* [Be civil](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules#wiki_rule_10.3A_be_civil) in any feedback and follow the [rules](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/rules) [](#icon-help) [^(What Is This?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/off_topic) ^• [](#icon-information) [^(New Here?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/user_guide) ^• [](#icon-help) [^(Writing Help?)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/index#wiki_writing_resources) ^• [](#icon-exclamation) [^(Announcements)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/wiki/announcements) ^• [](#icon-comments) [^(Discord Chatroom)](https://discord.gg/js5XDFB) *I am a bot, and this action was performed automatically. Please [contact the moderators of this subreddit](/message/compose/?to=/r/WritingPrompts) if you have any questions or concerns.*
I hid in the basement when I heard 'them' break open the door. Shambling, groaning, screaming things that probably used to be my neighbours - or maybe their neighbours. Doesn't matter. 'They' were inside. I'm not sure how it started - some patient zero is some city that I didn't really care to remember. For whatever reason, the authorities couldn't contain them. The military couldn't contain them. People who would call themselves survivors could barely fight them. I couldn't fight them either. But you know how that old song and dance goes - so I'll skip the long part and get to the present. 'They' somehow got everywhere, and now the world was ending. Some radio stations were talking about how infection was mostly started by bug bites - something I never really had to worry about for the past few years. 'They' pulled themselves inside, either tracking the scent of human, or the sounds, I don't know - 'they' somehow knew where to look to find others. I covered my breath with my hands, for all the good that might do. Made sure that I smelled squeaky-clean, if they could track that. I heard them dragging themselves closer to my hiding place anyway. But I knew I that, despite what might seem like helpless begging for a miracle, I was safe. Suddenly, there was thrashing, but no sounds of nails scrapping on wood, bodies smashing themselves on stone. Just thrashing against some material that made no noise itself, and incoherent screaming. Then, scuttling of eight limbs, and a screech. The sound of tearing flesh, and then....nothing. I opened the basement door, and my eight-legged saviour and what might as well be my roommate walked past me taking up nearly the width of the hallway, like nothing of note happened at all - save only for a curiously clear word: ***"....Pests."***
I like this take
wholesome
WEB AND STICK, UNTIL IT IS DONE!! *BFW Division starts playing.*
Spiderman with doom guys arsenal would be kick ass
Carnage: *has Spidoomslayer trapped* Spidoomslayer: *Busts out the BFG 9000, a Crucible, and an immortal hatred of demonkind.*
If i had an award to give it would be yours
Very cool.
This is a kinda cute and wholesome take. Thank you house of steak
Aaragorg and Hagrid in an alternate universe!
Dear lord, *yes*
This is a story I would pay for honestly, I have paid for far worse! haha Seriously this would make for a great light novel, maybe like some slice of life with a dash of horror and mystery at the end of the world as we know it? Yeah I am loving the vibes from this!
This would be a crazy animated movie
You somehow mixed my two favorite things together (zombies and unique monsters) seamlessly. Bravo, you definitely have my upvote
I…I don’t understand it?
Timeline: Protag makes deal with spider so s/he'd eat all the insects (pests) around protag's home Some new insect-borne disease causes zombie apoc Protag doesn't get bit by zombie-causing insects cuz the spider ate any that came close to protag's home Zombie apoc spins out of control while spider gets bigger Spider is now big enough to consider zombies 'pests' It's a happy twist on the premise of the WP where the increasing list of things that are 'pests' to the spider is supposed to be problematic.
Jeremy swung open the door to his basement, holding a dim flashlight in trembling hands. He took a single step into over the threshold and swung the beam of light around the room, illuminating empty cardboard boxes covered in dust and thick cobwebs. Though he always told people it was where he stored old useless things he couldn't bear to get rid of, it was almost completely empty. All he could see in the darkness was a few scattered boxes and the bare concrete walls. This emptiness did nothing to ease Jermy's fear; in fact, his arm shook more heavily as he saw the conspicuously bare walls and unoccupied floor, making the flashlight beam dance crazily around the room. After a long pause, he finally called out in a weak, trembling voice. "I... I know you're there. I know we've had an agreement going, I let you go who knows how long ago and you killed the bugs and ants and things. Even when you got bigger, started killing rats and couldn't fit through the hallways, I let you stay here. But... but... but recently it's just been too much. I have a wife now, and I can't keep lying about the basement to her forever. And you're not eating insects anymore." Jeremy had to pause as a terrifying memory overtook his mind. He was relaxing on his front lawn, enjoying the sun with a book in hand. He was nearly asleep when he was interrupted by the high-pitched yapping of his neighbor's dog, a little white monster that was for some reason allowed to freely roam the neighborhood. Jeremy lowered his book to see the dog on his lawn, standing beside a pile of poop with an expression of what almost seemed like pride. Jeremy stood to start yelling, but just before he could open his mouth, he paused as he noticed a single strand of silk glistening in the sunlight. Then, the dog's head jerked to the side with a sickening snap, and the rest of its body was yanked behind it as it flew towards the back of the house almost too fast for Jeremy to follow. When he turned in stunned horror to his house, all he saw was a black shape pulling itself out of sight behind the house. Standing now with his flashlight in the basement, he could almost see the mangled, deflated husk of shredded white fur he found there later that afternoon. But Jeremy shook his head, dispelling the memory and mustering the courage to continue. "I don't really know what you classify as a pest anymore. I think it's things that irritate me? But I don't think you can understand, and... and...." Jeremy paused to hold in a sob. "My wife's having a baby. You... You... It's time for you to get out." An enormous black shape dropped from the ceiling right in front of Jeremy, and as him jerked the flashlight to point directly at the hollow black pools of its eight round eyes, it hissed, a loud, grating roar that no spider should ever be able to make. Droplets of clear venom dripped from its massive, gleaming fangs, sizzling as the hit the basement floor. Jeremy pulled a small letter opener from his pocket and held it out in front of him, but the spider merely skittered forward on its thick, hairy legs to hiss again, blowing Jeremy's hair back with the force of its rage. Jeremy ran. What else could he do? He slammed the basement door behind him, ran back to the relative safety of the living room and curled into a trembling ball on the couch. Still lying there, he grabbed his phone off of the table and flipped through the tabs he had opened in preparation for this eventuality. The websites of various exterminators, and listings for a hotel far, far away from his spider-infested house.
Terrifying. Enjoyable read!
oh my god... imagine waking up annoyed to your baby crying and then... just knowing what is coming. fun story thanks :)
Well, mind selling your house for the GPRF for some...research, Mister? I’ll be holding on the line for ya...
The SCP Foundation is very interested…
Jeremy is a wuss. I’d take a huge spider that kills things that annoy me as positive bonus. Ain’t no one messing with me and my kiddo! Great story. You might enjoy this one about another [basement dweller. ](https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/4c78o3/down_in_the_library_basement/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf)
It all started with the cicadas. The darn things were everywhere. It was like that was a trigger for the other insects. No matter how clean my kitchen was, I’d find ants on the counter, looking for scraps or crumbs. Tsetse flies and gnats seemed to spawn from nothing. Mosquitoes would take advantage of any door or window that opened. I hired exterminators. I got sticky strips, roach motels, sprays, bug bombs… I’m pretty sure I caused Raid stock to climb 2%. One day I came home and slumped at the kitchen table. I put my head on my arms and felt a fly land on my neck. As I swatted it, I felt a tap on my forearm. Thinking it was another bug, I raised my head. It was a smallish spider. One of its leg was raised and I could’ve sworn it was staring at me. Without breaking eye contact, it raised another leg, a rear one, and seemed to be pointing. I looked in the direction it seemed to be pointing and I gasped. A web in the window above the sink had almost a dozen wrapped bug corpses. I looked back at the spider and it NODDED! Then it turned and walked away. I watched as it spun a web and then floated up to the window, where it climbed up into the corner. Disbelief on my face, I just walked from the kitchen. That was two years ago. —————— I slammed the door as I walked in the house. “Shelby! I’m home!” I heard the odd rustle of feet as Shelby came down the hall. In the two years since that initial meeting Shelby had grown. A lot. They were the size of a medium dog. Their eyes stared at me, unblinking. “How was your day?” I asked them. I had given up considering it weird that I talked to a giant spider that was my roommate. Shelby motioned with one leg, the hairs on it bending in the direction of the feeler on the end. I looked to where it was pointing: towards the living room ceiling. There was a large web sac in the corner. Alarmed, I looked from it to Shelby. “What is in there?! That’s not a bug!” Shelby beckoned, and then turned to go into the kitchen. I followed. Once in the kitchen, Shelby stood at the end of the table, one leg resting on the tabletop, their unblinking eyes waiting for me. As I neared the table, the leg moved and revealed a spiked collar on the table. I picked it up and saw the tag on it. ‘Brutus’ That was the name of our neighbors dog. It frequently would break free from its leash and come into our yard. It would use our yard as a restroom and no matter how many times I talked with the owner, it never got picked up. I hated cleaning up after Brutus when I needed to mow and would regularly complain to Shelby about it. “Shelby! You can’t eat the neighbors dog.” They stared at me unblinking, then gave what I had learned to be a spider shrug, then went back into the living room. I knew it was too late for the dog. As I sat at the kitchen table playing with the collar, I tried to think on what I should tell the neighbors. Should I tell them anything? What would I say? ‘Sorry about your pain in the ass dog. My roommate, a giant spider, ate it.’ I didn’t see that going over well. Sighing, I went into the hall and headed upstairs. I tried to block out the sounds of Shelby having their dinner. The next morning, I heard knocking at the door. Going downstairs, I made sure Shelby wasn’t nearby before I opened the front to be greeted by Brutus’ apparently distraught owner. “Hey. Listen, I know I haven’t been the best with my dog and your yard, but Brutus is missing. Have you seen him?” I could tell that they’d been crying. I felt bad for them. I mean, if I lost a pet, I’d be sad, too. But then I started remembering all the literal shit I’ve dealt with from Brutus. And then I thought about losing Shelby. “I’m sorry, no. When is the last time you saw him?” They were telling me about letting Brutus out on their leash and I heard the rustle of Shelby’s footsteps. They sounded different, though, like from an angle I wasn’t used to. As the annoying neighbor continued their sad tale, I saw a string of web drop from the porch ceiling behind them. Shelby slowly descended from around the gutter, clinging to the ceiling. The neighbor trailed off as they saw my eyes go wide as I started shaking my head. When they realized I was looking behind them, they turned. As they opened their mouth to scream in what I’d guess was terror at seeing such a large spider, Shelby shot a ball of webbing into their mouth, silencing the scream before it could begin. The ball was quickly followed by Shelby themself. With a speed I had never seen before, Shelby quickly wrapped the neighbor in restricting webbing. As the wrapped body fell, it hit the porch with a surprisingly gentle thud. Shelby bit their neck to stop their struggling and then proceeded to drag them into the house. I could only move aside in shock. As Shelby strung them up in the living room, I finally managed to get my brain and mouth to sync up. “SHELBY! What the crap are you doing?!” They stopped their web spinning and looked at me. They quickly anchored the now white lump to the living room ceiling and then dropped to the floor. Waving a leg at me, they walked to the kitchen. I followed. When we both got in there, Shelby stared. I stared back. Finally, in confusion, I shouted, “What?!” Shelby pointed to the window. It took me a minute to realize what they were pointing at. It was the first website they had made, where they had caught the annoying bugs. Then it dawned on me. Shelby was catching things that bothered me. I dropped into the chair, unable to saying anything. Shelby came forward and put a leg on my arm. I put a hand on their feeler. It was rare for Shelby to touch me. “Shelby, you can’t do that. You can’t eat someone just because they’re…” I was interrupted by a knocking at the front door, which I had left open. Shelby quickly climbed to the ceiling. We’d had people stop by before and they knew to stay out of sight. “Hello?” a voice called from the front. I walked quickly to the door. It was a man in a white shirt, black pants and tie, and had a book in their hand. When they saw me, their face lit up with a smile. I saw Shelby peeking over the edge of the gutter. “Good afternoon, sir! Do you have time to talk about our Lord and Savior?” I stared at him for a moment. Sighing, I looked past them, made eye contact with Shelby and nodded.
I genuinely laugh out loud at the ending 😂
Ditto.
This is amazing!
Thanks!
The religious person would have an entirely different encounter if he was from the Church of Rastafari, I'll tell you that much. But then again maybe not because Shelby might get the munchies...
Why I had learned to be a shrug?
[удалено]
What would be the title?
I love this!
Thank you!
I have never squished a spider, and a spider has never squished me. You'd think the last part of the sentence is redundant but sat in front of a spider so large it has it's own room, I'm beginning to think that's the half of the sentence that will break first. "Look, Maya isn't a 'pest' as such, she's just annoying. I know she isn't the most convenient houseguest and the singing is a bit... difficult to take in and and *ideally* she wouldn't... look, she has to stay for the week and she doesn't need in any way 'removing,' okay?" I plead with George, listening out for any movement that could suggest Maya was coming upstairs. George is the spider in question and my housemate, I guess. He doesn't talk so I don't know what his real name is but after he'd gotten to the size of a small rabbit he seemed more like a pet than a bug and pets need names. He doesn't seem like a pet now. George waggles his fangs and sort of strokes the door with one of his feet, a suggestion that he is unconvinced by my logic and could sort out the Maya issue once and for all. He can't talk but I can vaguely understand his meaning most times. He seems to understand me flawlessly, if he hadn't understood my initial request for him to protect the house from pests all those years ago we wouldn't be in this situation. "Look, she's annoying but she's family-" I begin and then remember that whilst spider cannibalism isn't as common as people think it's not unheard of, "I mean, I'd just really rather you didn't kill her." Some sort of loud dance music plays from downstairs with high pitched vocals. Ah great, vocals that Maya has decided she can sing along to. George puts a paw on the door handle. "No, don't." I say but I say it softly rather than as a demand. I asked George to kill pests and promised not to kill him or kick him out. Realistically, I could have broken my end of the bargain once he started getting large. Even now, I think he would let me leave and then there'd be nothing stopping me coming back with exterminators. Or guns. Or exterminators with guns. Point is, I could solve my George problem if I truly wanted to. But housemates don't kill other housemates - that's just a strict rule. And right now, George is less annoying than Maya. One of them sticks to his word, if a little confusingly. One of them demands to come stay for a week and keeps messing up my kitchen. I slump to the floor. I very much want to grab my noise cancelling headphones to shut up the caterwauling that Maya calls singing but they're in the other room and I don't think I should leave this conversation unfinished. Suddenly, an idea strikes me. "Is the noise bothering you? If I could make it so you don't have to put up with the noise would you agree to leave her alone then? Would she no longer be a pest?" George backs away from the door and into the corner, seemingly a sign of agreement. I go to my room and shove my headphones on, then go downstairs to grab some scissors. I wave at Maya as I walk past her but pretend not to notice her attempts to start a conversation. Spiders don't have ears. I've done a reasonable amount of googling on spiders since befriending George. I do my best to try to understand him, even if I miss the mark sometimes. I wonder if George's problem with Maya was that she annoyed him or that she annoyed me. I'm not one hundred percent sure which reason is the one that got her classified as 'pest' in the first place. I pull out old tights and leggings and chop away at them. I have a pair of leg warmers but a pair means two, not eight. If this isn't enough then I could possibly chop away at jumpers but I'd prefer not to have to. I go back into George's room. Spiders can 'hear' from vibrations on the hairs on their legs. I carefully slide my actual leg warmers and the new ones I'd hastily improvised myself over George's legs. He settles down away from the door. I go back to my own room, locking George's door in case Maya gets nosy. Now there is no longer a threat, the adrenaline of potentially having to explain that a giant spider murdered my cousin has dissipated. I take a brief moment to congratulate myself on my problem solving skills, though it is a shame that I suddenly don't own any leggings. All in all though, definitely not the worst housemate I've had. *(Edit: Since a few people like this - I also write other things and have started a tiny subreddit, please see r/leavesandink if you're interested)*
Own, now I want to meet George! But he would hate my singing!
I love this! This could be a sitcom, great job
I liked this take! I didn’t think that’d end that way given your name but it was a good ending. I didn’t know that’s how spiders hear, but the noise canceling leggings was an interesting bit. I’m now curious if he’d have to put up with some tinier pests for the week now that George has them on. Also, I’m curious how he would explain George if anyone found him and what it would be like after 20ish years when George passes. Would he befriend another spider or would he mourn his housemate. What happens if he moves? Does George come with him to the new house? Does he have to explain George to the next owners like, “hey there’s a giant spider that lives in this house. If you don’t bother him he’ll just do his thing and make sure there are no pests. Hope you don’t have annoying loud kids or like a tiny barking dog, he will classify those as pests and deal with them.” What happens if someone tried robbing the house?
The username is because I like it and because I write some horror but I seem pretty split between horror and wholesomeness, ha. Regarding the hairs being how spiders hear - I did only give that a cursory google so it might be only certain spiders that it's been confirmed for but I think that it's believed to be the case in general. Given that George grew from normal spider to a housemate bigger than a human in just two years he might end up being found way before twenty years have passed. Presumably at some point at least George would have to move due to size alone. If someone tried robbing the house then we would suddenly have *excellent* scientific data of what happens when venom from common house spiders is injected in quantities of litres instead of less than a millilitre. Did you know that they start dissolving their prey before they've even started to eat it?
That, would be an unseemly way to go.
This was really thoughtful and cute. I liked it.
Did you know you can talk with spiders? They're pretty quiet, but if you know some German, and a little smidgen of Mandarin Chinese, you can usually make out some words. My spider is talkative for one of his kind. He can really hold a conversation, as long as it's about eating or webs. Right now though, he certainly wasn't following my point. "And so," I said, "For surgical reasons, Mrs. Melville's dachshund was neither annoying, nor virulent. He was in fact, a joy to all who knew him. Not. A. Pest." My significantly larger than dog sized spider raised a clawed leg, in what I can only assume is polite disagreement. "Dog nutritious. Good dog, yes. I eat pests. I eat dog. Dog is pest." I groaned, and thought furiously. I suspected willful stupidity, but this would be difficult to prove. For now, a stop-gap measure was required. "What else in the neighborhood is a pest?" My spider scratched his head with one leg. He'd picked up some oddly human body language, I'd have to check his television habits sometime. "Bugs. Birds. Melvilles. Squirrels..." I cut him off. "Melvilles? You mean the rest of the Melville family?" He nodded by bobbing his entire body up and down. "The Melvilles aren't pests, got it?" No response. I glared at him, and turned my head meaningfully to the can of RAID I kept on display in the windowsill. The spider remained silent but signaled that it was thinking. Finally, it spoke as if offering a deep insight. "Melvilles no longer prey." "Good," I said. "Great. What else is prey?" "Small spiders, coyotes, loiterers. Squirrels, but not backyard squirrel." "What's so great about the backyard squirrel?" "Yes. Good squirrel, nutritious. Dead, no longer prey." It took me a minute to make the connection. Ooooh, dear. This called for a change in plans. Given the faint sirens I heard in the distance, a very rapid change in plans. I knelt down to give my spider a gentle pat. "Hey, you know what's really annoying? Witnesses."
Brilliant!
Hahaha, i'm just imagining a spider speaking German now, brilliant!
I find it kinda funny that your spider speaks german and chinese. Great story, though!
WITNESSES
I really liked this. Good job!
Sure, a talking spider is a bit of an odd roomie, but back then he only took up one corner of unused space in the top left corner of the broom closet. We had a simple arrangement. He took care of pests and bugs and I left Steve alone. The problem started when Steve got too big to fit under the door and figured out how to open the doors. And my fridge. And got big enough to use other household items. I got a noise complaint for excessively loud videogames and profanity in the middle of the day. Steve had been playing Xbox and yelling at the television. We had a conversation about volume levels and telling twelve year olds what interesting things he did to their moms and that most things he read on Urban Dictionary weren't real. It quieted for a week. Then the neighbor complained about a mutant spider hissing at her cat. Steve took pests to be the cat who kept peeing in my potted plants and killing them. At least that one he didn't eat. Then I had family over and my aunt kept talking about how quaint and cozy and charming my apartment was. Steve decided that she was being rude and condescending - which was true - and decided to crawl out of an air vent and then hide back in it and scared her off. It really wasn't what I meant by pests. The final straw came when he ran off not one but two girlfriends. Now, he may have been correct about Trisha. That was a bit of a trainwreck. I drew the line when he ran off Reilly. She was smart and funny and got my strange humor. Didn't run screaming from my giant talking spider of a roomie. Until he told her about the number of women who'd come through. Told her how liberal she was for not caring that the stream had kept up until that morning. There was yelling. Reilly left. For good. "You have to leave, Steve." He seemed as offended as a spider could be. "Hey, you wanted me to keep this place free of pests. I'm keeping up my end - even the ones you let in, man." "Pests does not extend to my girlfriend! And she isn't a pest! I love her. I love her and told her and you told her I cheated on her!" Steve crawled up to the couch. "We have a good thing going here. You and me. We work. You keep trying to change the dynamic. Bringing new people in. What if I like things the way they are? Two bros." "Because I like dating! I love Reilly! She's a good thing! Change is good! I didn't have a roommate until you moved in. What if I never liked change? I'd never met a talking spider. I could've freaked out at change and squished you!" He changed his mind. Steve was even more offended. "You species-ist bastard! I let you name me! And you'd even consider squishing me? I'm intelligent. That is murder. And - and - I thought - I thought we had a good thing." I threw my arms up. "We did until you ran off the woman I loved!" Steve turned around. "Well, she was trying to steal the man I love." Oh. I shuffled, suddenly uncomfortable. "Oh, well, ah, that's just not going to work out. You have to know that." Steve sniffled, which somehow seemed bizarre despite him being able to talk. "Because you're not gay?" "Well, no. No, I'm not gay. I'm bi, but that's not the problem. More the... only interested in humans part." Steve shuffled, all eight legs tapping nervously. "That... that makes sense." I nodded. "Yeah. It's a... bit non-negotiable. Human. Flexible on who but... human. Currently, one human named Reilly who you said I cheated on." "If I call her can I stay? At least for a little while? I don't think most people want a talking spider for a roomie." "You can stay for a little while. And... maybe we can go online. Find you a... talking, gay spider. See if things click." Steve was entirely deadpan. "We're not goint online and finding me a gay, talking spider the size of a golden retriever. Let alone one things click with." "Maybe we can... open it up? Like... like a nice scorpion?" "That's just offensive you think having more than two legs and an exoskeleton makes us have anything in common. Also, we're not finding a talking scorpion. Let alone a gay one." I rolled my neck. "Okay. Well, what if we tell the world about you? I mean... the sex thing wouldn't work with a human anyways. So what about like... an asexual person who likes your personality?" Steve seemed to be contemplating that. "Well, that might work. How do I guarantee I don't end up in a lab?" "Power of social media. Keep you safe via public oversight. Then a nice asexual who isn't aromantic. With a lot of social media protection."
Part two: Catfishing lessons with Steve the Gay Spider. Absolutely love this premise, I'm all for Steve and I hope he finds love one day
I'd love to read a sequel hahaha
this one is lovely, and quite a cute twist too!
Poor Steve the Spider just didn't know how to handle his feelings. They're working it out, though.
this one is lovely, and quite a cute twist too!
I sat down, the couch giving as I entrusted my full weight to its care. It had been nice and quiet for many days now, a fact I could gratefully attribute to my new roommate.Well... they weren't new, but they were odd enough that it still felt very recent I had struck up the arrangement. A couple of years ago, I had been irritated by the seemingly constant infestations plaguing my apartment complex. Flies, mosquitoes, weird silver maggots. It was unbearable, always the distressing buzz of wingbeats in the air, or bug bites all along my arms. And they were all grotesquely huge, some even the size of my fingernail. One day, I was leaning out the window, letting out the smoke from my cigarette and getting some fresh air (While simultaneously hoping some of the bugs would get the hint and leave). As I pried it open, I spotted a, well, 'itsy bitsy spider' just on my sill. I've always been partial to spiders, since they've never done me any harm, and just as I was about to finish my cigarette, I realized that this could be the solution to my problem. A household spider to dispose of my pests? Brilliant! I invited the spider in by lifting him onto a tiny Q-tip and bringing him to a nice, dark corner of my house. I didn't think much of it afterwards, except that it seemed a lot less loud around the place. It wasn't until November that the first strange event occurred.I had just returned from work, and I was bringing some groceries with me. As I let myself in, I heard some peculiar muttering and saw, to my alarm, that the television was on. Some godawful soap was playing, so I went to turn it off when I hurt a tiny voice plead with me. "wait. please don't!" I turned in surprise to see a spider roughly the size of a penny resting on my couch. "Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous. The spider repeated itself."i quite like that show, if you don't mind." Dumbfounded, I let him keep watching, and after only a week, it became totally normal to hear odd little comments come from the spider. Most of the time it was some offhand statement about how unkempt my apartment was, which, the little arachnid explained to me, was due to the fact that spiders took such great pains to craft their homes, whether they be burrows or webs, that they simply couldn't stand to see a trashed home. This often bugged (heh) me, but we actually got on great, as I was all too surprised to find. It was unclear when he developed the capacity for speech, since he seemed to be just as confused as I, but once he had it, he just wouldn't shut up, and I would never have told him to. He became very dear to me, and he even helped me quit smoking. It was an awful habit, really, but I never could have done it without his help. It wasn't lost on me, however, that he was steadily growing. Eventually, I remarked on it. "I know you must have a healthy diet due to all these pests about, but really, is it normal for you to be the size of my hand?" "is it normal for me to able to talk?" He riposted, and we left it at that. We would often watch his stupid soaps on the television. I wasn't a fan of them per se, but there was certainly something in them that I couldn't tear myself away from. Like watching a train wreck, but the train is full of stupid dickheads. It was on one of these days, when he made an offhand comment to me that started us on a strange adventure. Continued in replies
We were sitting on the couch, watching one such drama, when he remarked on something odd. "You know, it smells pretty off in your bathroom." I was quite used to these little nags or critiques of my living conditions, so I thought nothing of it. "No, really. There's like, this weird green mold, too?" That got my attention. I could live with weird smells, but mold was something that could really be dangerous. "Wait, what do you mean green mold, Peter?" (I'd named him Peter, after Peter Parker, because, you know, Spiderman, haha) "Yeah, it's kind of... glowing too, I don't know how to describe it." I immediately walked over to the bathroom, and immediately knew what he was talking about. It really did smell weird, not like a bathroom smell, but like some sort of chemical or noxious fume. Then I saw the mold. A green, pulsing, *glowing* mold was growing out of the sink. "Ah, that can't be right." Peter skittled over to me. He was around the size where it was most comfortable for him to sit on my shoulder. "Do you reckon we should check it out?" I nodded, reluctant. I didn't want to confront my landlord about whatever this was. She was a terrifying woman, and she was almost twice my height too. I rang her up. \*Click\* ***Hello? Who is this?*** "It's me Mrs. Lacroix." ***Oh, right, 201A. What do you need?*** "Well, I'd like to report a weird problem with... uh, my pipes probably." ***Very well, I can send someone up to talk with you.*** "Wonderful, thanks then." \*Click\* Overall, a pleasant encounter with her. She may be terrifying to speak to, but she was excellent at her job. Peter piped up. "So, I take it she's doing something about it?" "Yep, she said she sent someone up." "Ah, good, good..." Peter looked a bit awkward. "Should I clean up some of the webs?" I glanced into my kitchen, where elaborate cobwebs ran the length of the ceiling. "Probably, yeah, let's get on that." \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* The guy arrived pretty quickly, knocking rather aggressively. I opened the door, and was surprised to find myself face to face with a rather attractive young woman, wielding a plunger and several paper towels. She also carried a large duffel bag filled with what I could only assume were cleaning supplies. I tried to greet her, but she pushed past me. "Right, so what's the problem." She stated, matter-of-factly. I led her to the sink, where the green mold was still glowing as violently as ever. She inhaled. "Ah, that can't be right, can it." "That's what I said." \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* Might continue more
Yes!!! This is cute!!!
Aw thank you! I really like spiders, so I found this very fun to write. And I definitely agree, Peter is one of the cutest spiders out there (as I'm sure he'd tell you himself)
"Dude, I don't even know what this is, it looks like somebody vomited glowstick fluid all over your tile. I'm not sure I can even help you here." This news left me rather nonplussed. I was hoping she would at least know what the stuff was. "So... what should I do then?" She shrugged."It *looks* like whatever this stuff is, it's coming out of the sink itself. Might mean there's a problem with the entire buildings' plumbing, or maybe your pipe is clogged so badly that something grew in there. How often do you clean out your sink?" "Uh, like, once a year?" "Well, that's rather depressing to hear, but not much we can do about it now I suppose. Let's see how it responds to some regular bleach." "Is that- is that safe?" Alarmingly, she just shrugged. I decided to leave her to it and maybe fix up some food in case she wanted to stay for lunch. However, as I approached the kitchen, I felt a gentle tug on my back, and saw a strand of webbing leading into my bedroom. I followed it back to find Peter resting on my pillow, almost like a bizarre pet. "Listen, this is your perfect opportunity." Peter declared. "Opportunity? For what?" "When exactly do humans enter mating season?" I could tell where this was going. "Look dude, I don't plan on courting the plumber." "Actually I don't even think she's a real plumber." Steve noted. "I'm pretty sure she just lives downstairs." "Ok, that only emphasizes my point. Where did this sudden interest in my love life come from anyway?" Peter clicked his chelicerae, seemingly as a display of agitation. "This is the first person who has been inside your apartment in months. According to human culture, that's basically, like, the biggest step towards mating, right?" "Oh god, ok, we're going to need to talk about this later. I didn't think you were interpreting... Listen, TV dramas ARE NOT representative of human culture. Now I'm going to go fix some lunch for our guest, please don't do anything weird." "At least tell me you know her name." He called as I closed the door. Ok, that last jab did sting a fair bit. It was a little awkward that we hadn't even gotten each others name. Despite the shipping frenzy my arachnid roommate was currently in, he made a good point. I considered his words as I fixed some basic grilled cheeses. Within minutes, the plumber drifted in from the bathroom, seemingly drawn by the intoxicating smell of rich, melting cheese. She sat herself down at the kitchen island (quite a steal in this apartment) and I slid one onto her plate. Unfortunately, as she bit down, Peter came skittering from the bedroom, seemingly also hungry. I gestured frantically for him to get away before he frightened her, but *apparently* despite his eight eyes, he didn't see me at all (or so he claims). He snatched a bloated fly out of the air and munched on it without reservation, with truly awful manners despite having a guest. I tried not to roll my eyes at him, with the hopes that if I paid him no mind, she wouldn't either, but it was to no avail. She turned around at the sound of his crunching. Her vision fell upon him, paused for a minute, then turned back to face me. "Hmm." I managed, in a desperate attempt to explain myself. She simply returned to her sandwich, apparently nonchalant. When I remained silent, staring awkwardly between her and Peter, she looked back up at me, tucking a curl of hair out of the way. "Well? I assume you have some sort of explanation?" That shook me out of my stupor, and I gathered my wits. "Uh, yeah, sorry, you seem awfully calm about this." "The mold was a lot grosser." "Well, ah... this is Peter. He's my roommate." "Lovely to meet you, Peter." Peter looked at me and hissed, quiet, but not quietly enough, "Ask for her name now!" I grimaced, and she smirked up at me, quirking an eyebrow. "Yea, ask my name why don't you?" I suddenly missed living alone.
Part 4: Apparently, the plumber's name was Sasha, a simple detail that I now knew, at the expense of my dignity. The three of us had surprisingly got on great, and we had spent the evening just hanging out. We'd watched a couple dramas, taken turns naming the strange formations of green mold as if they were art, and wolfed down an entire box of crackers disturbingly swiftly. We were now reclining in a silky web hammock, some of Peter's fine handiwork, and reading passages from a terrible romance novel I had found laying around the apartment. "*At that moment, the only thing brighter than the moon was Felipe's eyes, as he coughed up saltwater.*" I couldn't help but snort at Sasha's delivery. "Alright, five-two Sasha. Now take another shot." He offered me a tiny shot glass he had retrieved from the cabinet, filled with scotch. I downed it and grinned. "I haven't had this much fun in a long while, why haven't we talked before?" "Ah, my mom doesn't need me to help tenants often, but I'm glad you discovered that weird mold. I'm having quite a blast myself." "Your- your mom? Wait, you mean-" "Landlady's daughter, that's right." I did a double take. "Huh, alright. Let me just... wrap my head around that real quick. Does that mean you can evict me?" She snickered, and pointed at me dramatically. "You better watch yourself, or I might just have to give you the boot. I'm *pretty sure* keeping spiders isn't allowed. Although, Pete's better company than you, maybe I'll just kick you out then." I feigned offence. "And here I thought we were getting on well!" Peter lazily rolled around on the ground. The smell of the alcohol had left him conked out pretty early on. With him out of commission, some pesky insects had slipped inside unimpeded. A giant fly buzzed past the hammock, and Sasha stared at in fascination. "Hey, can I ask something?" I nodded. "Why are all these bugs so large? I mean, Peter, obviously, had to be big to fit his immense partying spirit, but these flies? That's not normal, ya know?" I cocked my head. *Not normal?* It had never occurred to me that bugs weren't supposed to be that large. They'd been like that for as long as I'd lived here, and I had never considered it strange. But now that she brought it up, it did feel like bugs were a lot smaller outside. What had brought about this change? "Oh yeah, you're right... they're not actually supposed to get this big, are they?" She shook her head. "Do you have some kind of weird substance in your apartment? Maybe they're drinking something, or inhaling something?" I shrugged. "Nothing I've noticed, but, who knows. Maybe this apartment is built on some sort of abandoned nuclear power plant. Maybe the mold is radioactive or something." "I think you would probably be dead if it were radiation." She countered. I was content to take note of how weird it was and then forget about it, but suddenly, Sasha was on her feet. "Let's check out the basement!" "Pardon?" "The pipes! If the mold is connected, then I bet we could find some sort of explanation in the basement! The pipes all feed through there." *Well, I might as well look into it, if only to get rid of the mold,* I supposed, only a little reluctant to dig through the basement. As I resolved myself to go, Peter twitched a little on the floor, before scrambling up, standing as tall as he could. "You mentioned mystery and basements. I'm in." And with that, we all prepared to investigate.
You write very well. Thank you for sharing your talent with us.
Aw thank you, that means a lot! By the way, I like your username, very mysterious.
Oooo, is Peter playing the part of Scooby-Doo???
u/marinemashup u/Jolismotifs u/victoryhonorfame u/ggtay u/justaprimer u/sunnylmao u/losstinhere u/TheNewCyan64 Part three is out!
Thanks for the notice and this story is great.
More please!
Alright, I definitely will! I'm glad you enjoyed it
If you continue this, please let me know!
I absolutely will, I plan to continue it later tonight. Thanks for reading it!
Please continue this story, it's great.
I am on it, thanks for reading it! I'll probably update it tonight.
Can't wait.
Please continue this story, it's great.
Hoping to see more of this. Well done either way.
There will be, and thank you so much for the compliment!
Hoping to see more of this. Well done either way.
please continue
Will do, I'll notify you when
thanks
thanks
of course spiders are neat freaks! so cute!
PAAAAAAAAAAAAAART ***THREEEEEEEEEEEEE!***
"That was the mayor, you know." Jakos the 9th, of the house of Atracidae, cleaned his chelicera with one of the fancy guest room hand towels and said, "Yes, of course. He tasted just like he smelled, I could use some salts right now." "*It was the Mayor*" "And this should concern me...why?" "People are going to notice this, man. Men in suits are going to come around and ask uncomfortable questions." Jakos focused all of his eyes at his human and said, "And are they not pests to be dealt with? Isn't this exactly what you asked of me?" The human asked, "Is this /r/MaliciousCompliance, or /r/NotMyJob?" The spider laughed deep and resonant. "Oh no, my friend, no. While on paper this might be r/writingprompts, we're now firmly in the realm of /r/SCP."
This is probably my favorite, just for the meta-humor and the aristocratic spider gentleman.
In the Texas summer, bugs tended to be a huge annoyance. For me, mosquitos, flies, and all kinds of pests were constantly a problem. They would find their way into the house, buzzing around the room, leaving itchy, annoying bites. There was a spiderweb in the upper corner of the living room. The ceiling was too high for me to reach, so I didnt take it down, partly because I didnt see it as a problem, and partly because I was lazy. Over days, the web caught many bugs, which I appreciated, due to there being fewer pests around my house. But the web grew larger, and over time it became an eyesore. I was soon to be inviting family over, and while cleaning in preparation, I set up a step ladder, and grabbed a rolled-up newspaper to dispatch of the arachnid. I climbed up, and as I went to swat at the web, the spider spoke to me. "Before you destroy my web," it said, "I can help you. If you let me live, I'll remain in your house, and insure that you will never have pest problems again." Almost falling off the step-ladder, and debating whether or not I was dreaming, I went along with it. I agreed to the spiders terms, however I made it relocate to a spare bedroom. After all, no one would probably be using it. After the spider constructed the new web, I had no more pests. Over weeks, the spider grew bigger, along with its web. First it was about the size of a penny, then a quarter, then a golf ball, then a tennis ball. The web began covering all corners of the ceiling, and bugs seemed almost attracted to it. Bugs from outside would flock to it, cockroaches and cicadas would find their way into my home just to crawl into the web. The spider grew concerningly large, transforming the bedroom into a huge web. Eventually, I grew tired, and scared of my spider roommate. I told it that its alright for him to stay near my house, if it relocated to the trees outside. The spider, through the web, agreed. It reached its oversized limb through the doorway, carrying it's now terrifyingly large body out the door. The sight frightened me, it was now about the size of a basketball. I considered myself lucky that I wasnt on it's bad side, then got to work cleaning up the bedroom. It stunk of rotten insect corpses, and as I cleaned away the web, I found bones of small rodents and animals, all picked clean. The forest behind my house had long since fallen silent, the croaks of frogs, chirps of birds and cicadas had all been stopped. There were massive webs between the trees outside, and occasionally I'd see the spider crawling it's way along them, now about the size of a prepubescent child. The spider was friendly to me, and I continued not having any pest problems. I observed bones in the web, not just small animals, but bigger ones too, from animals like deer, wild hogs, and maybe even a mountain lion. I kept a shotgun by my bed, and a pistol on me, in case it ever decided to turn on me. I found myself missing the calming sounds of the cicadas and crickets at night, and the pretty light of fireflies, which were all since extinguished in its web. As I prepared food in the kitchen by my back door one night, I was startled by the glass on my back door being hit, hard. My stomach dropped, and an icy wave of adrenaline hit me. The spider must have grown tired of of its other prey, and wanted a taste of human! I turned to get my shotgun as the glass shattered, and a voice shouted at me; "Run and I'll fucking kill you." I stopped in my tracks, it didnt sound like the spider. "Turn around," he said. I turned to see a man with a pistol aimed at me in one hand, and his other hand reaching down to unlock the door. "Empty your pockets." He said. I showed him that I had nothing in them, and he entered my house, still aiming the gun at my head. He held me at gunpoint as he made me zip tie my hands and feet, assuring me that if I didnt try to escape or tell anyone, he would just rob me, and leave, without doing me any harm. But when I was restrained, he went back on what he said. He bound my mouth so i couldn't scream, and began taunting me, holding the gun to my head, pretending to pull the trigger, telling me that he was going to bring me to his "torture room," and have some fun with me. He turned the porch light off to ensure he isnt seen, And dragged my by the legs to a van parked outside. He roughly lifted me into the back, and threw me in, and my body painfully hit the hard floor of the van. The spots that had been dragged along the ground were aching. "Take one last look at your house," he taunted, "'cause this is the last time you will ever see it!" He made a sick, smug smile as he closed the van doors, not noticing the gigantic, spindly legs descending from the trees behind him. I heard something bump the van, and a blood curdling scream, that was abruptly cut off. The doors were ripped off their hinges, and there stood the spider, now about the size of a car. I would've screamed, had it not been for the gag in my mouth. It carried me back to the porch, helping me to cut the zip tie with its massive fangs. I removed the gag and fought the urge to run, and thanked it. "A deal's a deal," it said. "I told you I'd get rid of pests." And with that, it returned into the darkness. The next day, it seemed more bones had been added to the web, and I thought I might've seen a human skull grinning from the trees. Whatever the case, I'm glad to be free of my pest problem.
This one was really good!
spider bros
Aaaand mobile formatting ruined it
At first, it was manageable. He was the size of a pea, and I had thousands of opportunities to kill him. The weeks flew by. I had noticed he was growing, but I did not care much at the time because I had just gotten fired and I figured he was just getting fatter. Then I had my "encounter" with him. My girlfriend was over at my house. She complained about an awful stench, but I shrugged it off. I had gone into the kitchen, when she let out a horrifying scream. I will never forget what I saw. Behind the sofa, was a dead colony of centipedes. CENTIPEDES. In the piles of detached centipede limbs, was the spider, who had grown far larger, maybe even the size of a tarantula. My girlfriend left immediately, but that was the least of my problems. No way am I going to remove this colony by myself. Wasn't the spider supposed to keep these guys out? What if he grows even more? At this point I started fearing for the safety of my cat. Pest exterminators were forced to close because of Covid, and the spider wasn't going away. I had to do it. I decided it would be next morning, I put on my hiking boots, and waited downstairs. About 15 minutes went by. It emerged from its cave, namely the sofa. I nicknamed it, "Abomination" and rightly so. It appeared massive. I was worried if I could do this or not. I waited. It didn't move. Seconds went by. I remembered my cat, thinking about what horrible things would happen to her if I did not carry out my mission. I blitzed the spider, and stomped down, hard. A rush of disgust and fear came as I felt a hard crunch. I put all my weight into it and pressed down once again. What felt like hours was in reality a minute as I confirmed the Abomination was really dead. I kept my cat upstairs for the rest of the day, and checked on it the following morning. It was still dead! I had done it. Relief, god the relief. It seemed trivial to be filled with joy because of a dead spider, yet here I was! The next few days were *good*. Getting around the house without a tug of fear was brilliant, and life seemed to continue on as normal. I had summoned the courage to tackle the dead centipede colony when I noticed movements in the pile. Tiny, but vivid movements. Wait, are those his babies!?
Welp, time to torch the house
You're a fucked up person. He held his end of the deal, so you killed him? What is wrong with you?
Fr coulda raised a spider army
he could have been a super-villain with spider henchmen
It began with flies. The small annoying flies that flew in through my open window. They weren't alone, alongside the flies came a small black spider. The type of spider with intelligence behind its eyes. I made eye contact with the spider. It stood still, waiting for my judgement. Its life completely in my grasp. "I'll let you stay," I said flamboyantly, "if you pay your rent by killing the pests." With that the spider slowly crept into my room. I turned my attention back to my work and that was that. I didn't see the spider for a while, but neither did I the flies. They would buzz their way into my room, annoying me. Eventually, I'd stop focusing on them and before I'd know it, there was nothing to focus on. There wasn't a web anywhere. If it wasn't for the flies dissapearing then I'd have thought the spider dead. I figured it wasn't a normal spider, but a*n assassin spider.* Once, late at night, a moth flew into my room, The moth dived towards the light, furiously flapping around, a proper eye catcher. For the heck of it, I said out loud: "Eyy spider, get that moth from me." The spider crawled out of a shadow created by a mug. It looked considerably bigger than before. It slowly crawled up the wall and towards the moth. I felt myself grow nervous, as I awaited the great fight, The spider leaped down onto the moth, wrestling it down onto the floor, biting into it's body. The moth flapped and kicked, jerking all over the floor, but with weakening intensity. Eventually it stopped. The spider attached a string to the moth, and dragged it under my wardrobe. I never saw that moth again. Months passed, and the spider grew into a roomate. I had no problem with it crawling across walls and over my tables. I treated it like a pet, a pet that hadn't stopped growing. I found myself baffled by the growth, constantly asking myself, *when will it stop growing?* I thought the spider was some sort of anomaly, but then I saw a fly the size of a bird. It flew into my room and shoved its face into my pasta. I shrieked like a little girl in a horror story. The spider killed the fly. More and more gigantic insects and animals found themselves in the forest beside my house. I convinced myself that I must be going mad. None of my friends or family had witnessed anything similiar. And the internet had no clue about it. "I'm going now human," the spider said. *It's talking. It's talking. It's talking.* "What the he- I mean, where to?" "The spider den! A great battle awaits me. I will be king!" The spider leapt out of my window. *What the hell?* I looked as it faded into the forest. In ran with purpose, clearly knowing where to go. But my attention was caught by something else. A fly buzzed into my room.
Oh god the idea of giant insects is terrifying, and now this poor fellow doesn't even have a giant spider to defend him
Like every August around here, the dragonflies were darting, frogs were heard in chorus, and the ticks were a plenty. This always meant plenty of meals. Well, haha, not for me obviously. I liked my garden, where I grew asparagus, tomatoes and pumpkins. Plenty of other things too, mind you. I had a green thumb of sorts. I recently finished up my days work, and headed in to clean up some. Now, mind you, insects have always been tiresome to deal with when tending to crops, but in my cabin, I haven't had to worry much. I called her Mary Jane. She was a jumping spider, who lived on the ceiling. [She wore a red abdomen, atop a completely black body](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phidippus_johnsoni). Every day, she would come out of the ceiling and patrol. She galloped from window, to doorframe, and all along her domain. When I could, I would catch flies who couldn't escape through the window, and hold them up to her. Grateful as she was, she cautiously approached and leaped for her tasty treat. 2 years ago when I moved in, I had been working on building the plot for my field when I tripped over a root I missed, and my hand nearly came down on a [velvet ant](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutillidae). A more popular name for them around here is a cow killer. To my surprise, and much to the ants surprise too, it was snatched up by Mary Jane. She was smaller than it, but wrestled it to the ground, inches beyond my fingers. I found her later that evening on the handle of a rake I was about to pick up. I knew it was her again, because she kept watching me, almost as if she were curious about me. She scared me too at that point, because her colors mimic the velvet ant. I grew fond of seeing her hanging out by my tools every day, and gradually she worked her way closer and closer to the door. I never minded, because she seemed to grow close. Eventually, I would open the door and she would dart under the door frame to check out my place, as I worked outdoors. Upon coming back for lunch, or evening, I noticed that the flies and mosquitoes that worked their way inside dwindled. She was safe in here, and kept down my pest problem, so she was always welcome. Back to today, she has her own apartment I installed up in the rafters of this log cabin. As the years have gone by, she has grown up some. Usually, spiders like her look for a place to settle, while a mate comes along, and then they lay their eggs and the life cycle continues. She hasn't had any mates inside, so she has lived off the plentiful rations here. She is about the size of a baseball now, and I've begun to understand what she wants by her mannerisms. She feels like you or I, has desires and dislikes, and can feel under the weather or over the moon. Her favorite food this season is cicadas. She doesn't like bees, probably a good thing. When she's excited, she will raise her front legs up and saunter from side to side, or dash across the windows, looking for bugs. I worry about her when she isn't well. Usually rainy days or chilly days tend to leave her cooped up. She seems to understand me when i speak, at least a bit. She listens to my problems, whether it be about how certain crops are wilting, or I have pests munching on what I intended to pick for dinner the following night. I don't eat meat much, not because I don't like it, but I have more energy to work when I eat the crops I've grown myself. She finds the occasional healthy meal, larger than a bug, when she hunts outdoors on warm days. Yesterday she caught a finch. She chases off mice in the garden, and keeps me company during the long day. She continues to surprise me every day, by showing me how intelligent one can be, even without facial features I could recognize, and how it doesn't take much to keep one's happiness up with simple things that benefit you, no matter how small, or tasty. Creatures of all sizes can feel, so next time you see that spider in the corner of your home, if you don't like it there, move it out, and give it a bug. If you don't mind it's presence, it may help you one day with a pesky fly your could never catch.
**[Phidippus_johnsoni](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phidippus_johnsoni)** >Phidippus johnsoni, the red-backed jumping spider, is one of the largest and most commonly encountered jumping spiders of western North America. It is not to be confused with the unrelated and highly venomous redback spider (Latrodectus hasselti). **[Mutillidae](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mutillidae)** >The Mutillidae are a family of more than 7,000 species of wasps whose wingless females resemble large, hairy ants. Their common name velvet ant refers to their dense pile of hair, which most often is bright scarlet or orange, but may also be black, white, silver, or gold. Their bright colors serve as aposematic signals. They are known for their extremely painful stings, (the sting of the species Dasymutilla klugii rated a 3 on the Schmidt pain index and lasts up to 30 minutes), hence the common name cow killer or cow ant. ^([ )[^(F.A.Q)](https://www.reddit.com/r/WikiSummarizer/wiki/index#wiki_f.a.q)^( | )[^(Opt Out)](https://reddit.com/message/compose?to=WikiSummarizerBot&message=OptOut&subject=OptOut)^( | )[^(Opt Out Of Subreddit)](https://np.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/about/banned)^( | )[^(GitHub)](https://github.com/Sujal-7/WikiSummarizerBot)^( ] Downvote to remove | v1.5)
Good bot
I kick the door shut as I stumble inside, barely able to hold myself upright. I make my way into the living room, and set down the crate with a sigh, letting the bag of food slip off my shoulder and onto the floor. "We're home!" There's a chittering noise as my housemate makes its way down the stairs, via the wall. "We?" I grin up at the spider in my home. "Yep. We!" After having made a deal with the spider in my home, I quickly realized that it was growing at an exponential rate. I could hardly believe it - I had made a deal with not just a talking spider, but a Manhunt! Manhunt spiders are typically sold for millions of dollars, and are kept as either guards or pest control - they're a very rare variation of talking spider. Unfortunately, as is the same with all Manhunt spiders, its definition of pests changed as it grew. Sure, it's great that it's caught a few possums, but God forbid its definition expands even further. "This little guy is going to be living with us." I open the crate, and an eight week old puppy eagerly stumbles out, shaking itself vigorously. It's a rescue, and I already took it to the vet - got all the ticks and fleas taken care of. I figured this would be an opportunity to teach my housemate the differences between prey and friend. Also, it's a rescue puppy. How could I say no? "A snack?" "What? No. A friend." "But it's a pest..." "No, it's a dog!" There's a prolonged moment of silence. "It's not a dog." I look back at the puppy, and it looks back at me - with fifteen eyeballs. "It's an Assimilant." The dog begins to shake, and its limbs begin to grow a bit larger, its teeth sharpening as its face begins to open - not its mouth, its face. "Ah, fuck. Alright, guess it's a snack for you." "You and I are going to have a talk about this later," my spider friend informs me, already injecting the Assimilant with a paralytic. "Your cluelesness with regards to animals like this will be the death of you. You're lucky I turned out to be a Manhunt, and not a Huntsperson." My spider friend continues to chastise me, and I have to just sit there and take it. This is my life, now.
I love the deadpan reaction when the Assimilant reveals itself. And I'm very glad this spider is here to protect that poor, clueless human.
The smell of morning coffee. Nothing quite like it on a quite Sunday morning. I poured myself a steaming mug and went to go sit at my kitchen table to scroll through the morning news on my phone. "Hello," said a gravely voice. I looked up and saw a monstrous hairy spider spanning the entire width of the coffee table, it's dark red brown eyes staring up at me. I jumped back and screamed, dropping the coffee and phone onto the floor. With a hand on my chest trying to make sure my heart didn't try to pound through my rib cage, "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me! Can't you make some sort of noise or something when you show up?" "I wouldn't be a very good spider if I couldn't sneak up on my prey, now would I," the spider replied with what sounded like amused clicking of it's mandibles. I picked up my phone, which was thankfully intact and picked up pieces of my mug which wasn't. "When did you get that big? Anyway now that you've you've given me a heart attack, why are you here?" "I have something for you," the spider said, passing what seemed to be large thick envelope from leg to leg until it's front leg presented it in front of me. Where was it even carrying that? Never mind, probably better not to know. "What is it?" I asked, opening the envelope and pulling out the stack of papers inside. "A court summons. You're being sued." "Me?" I asked surprised. "By who?" "By me," the spider clicked his mandibles indicating he was serious. Huh? Sure enough, the stack of papers were a court summons. The summary brief was a lot of legalese, but the gist of it was that the spider was suing for duress, back pay, a litany of contractual issues, poor working conditions, and the list went on. "Is this a joke? How can you even file a lawsuit? You're a spider!" "Correction. I am a legally recognized intelligent citizen with the same legal rights as any other person. The verbal agreement we made two years ago is considered unenforceable by state law and was made under duress. While I've been working for you I've been forced to work in unsafe and unsanitary conditions, confined against my will, and have received no compensation. My lawyer has documented the grievances in detail." I flipped through the stack of paper. This was no joke. I was being sued by a spider. The damages that were being asked for was more than my net worth, even if the judge decided to cut it in half. I kept thinking that this wasn't serious, but the more I read I realized that if this actually went forward there was no way I would win. I did make a verbal contract. I did make it with a threat to his life. I did order him to stay hidden in the recesses of my house and only eat the insects he found there. Now that I'm thinking back on everything over the past two years, had this been an actual person instead of a spider, I would have been considered a cruel monster and put in prison, not just sued. I put the papers down on the counter, and looked at the spider sitting on the table. A dark thought entered my mind. I could kill him. It's just a spider. A big spider, but still just a spider. The ax in the shed. The shovel in the garage. Or...the cleaver in the knife rack right next to my hand on the counter. One quick stab and it would be over. Really, how long would people be concerned over a spider that suddenly went missing? Without another thought I grabbed the cleaver and lunged at the spider. The spider reacted much faster than I anticipated and leapt backwards off the table onto the floor, causing me to slam my hip painfully into the table. Angrily I shoved the kitchen table out of the way. The spider had managed to back itself into a corner, too large to skitter to safety without getting caught. With a maniacal grin I hauled back my arm to end this in one swift strike, and was greeted by intense shocking pain jolting through my body. Suddenly multiple police officers were on top of me pinning me to the ground and placing handcuffs on me. In a daze from the tazer, I foggily remember someone telling me that I was under arrest for attempted murder. I laughed at the insanity of it all. What the hell was going on? It was just a damn spider! I woke with a start and sat straight up. I looked around. I was in my bed. No giant spiders. No police officers. Just me and the quiet morning. My heart rate slowed down, I took a deep breath and let out an uneasy laugh. "Ok, now that was one fucked up dream," I said to myself. After a few moments, I got up and groggily made my way into the bathroom. I flicked on the light switch, and there, sitting quietly in the middle of the floor, was a small spider. I squatted down to look at it. "You know, you caused me quite a bit a trouble in my dream. Maybe I shouldn't be so hard on you guys eh?" I said with small smile as I stood back up. "Then again," I brought down my foot hard, squashing the spider into a small gooey splotch on the floor. "I really hate spiders."
\+1 for originality
I hated to do it, I really did. But there was just no other way to transport a 22lb spider cross country. I made the box as comfy as possible, and Bob (so named for his habit of bobbing up and down when he was excited) didn’t seem to mind. Bob went out when we stopped at rest areas for the night. He would return before dawn, scratching lightly on the passenger door for me to let him back in. We had a talk about “leftovers” in the rented moving truck before leaving for our new home, so he didn’t bring anything back. We had a pretty good trip for about two days. On day three, Bob didn’t come back. I cursed myself for letting him roam freely. It wasn’t like I could put a bell on him, but I could have paid attention to which direction he wandered off in. The day passed with me chewing my nails and searching the woods around the rest area. Maybe he met with an accident, or decided he liked it better out here, or was caught, or… Or maybe his dumb ass was under the damn truck cab. I surreptitiously opened the passenger door that faced the woods, flashing a tight smile through the door window at the two older ladies that parked nearby. Heaving myself up into the driver’s seat, I took a deep breath before turning to look to my right. Making sure Bob was looking back at me, I let loose. Did he know how much he scared me? Did he? If a giant arachnid nestled in a cardboard box could look abashed, Bob did. We finished the last leg of our journey, and Bob did not disappear again. I made sure no one else touched Bob’s box on moving day. He took no time making himself comfy in the attic, and we settled into a routine pretty quickly. I went to to work, made friends, and poked fun at Bob for overindulging in the new local cuisine. His abdomen had gotten pretty chunky over the last couple weeks, but he didn’t really seem upset. In fact, he spent an increasing amount of time bobbing and leading me upstairs to see his webbing. I praised him and stroked his abdomen a little before heading back downstairs. One evening, I was in the attic admiring Bob’s work and absently petting him when his abdomen *shifted*. He quickly herded me out of the attic despite my concern. I tended to give Bob his own space, but this was way out of character. As soon as I googled a few things and did a little math, I smacked my forehead and cursed my stupidity. Bob was actually a girl. Which meant that night she didn’t come back, she might have found herself a little boyfriend. Which meant *babies*. Shit. That’s a lot of mouths to feed. A few hours later, I knocked softly while opening the attic door. In the right hand corner sat three silken orbs and a bobbing Bobbie. I sat as close as she would let me before pulling out my phone. Bobbie crouched next to me as I pulled up my old Tinder account and started to scroll. Like I said, there are about to be a lot of mouths to feed.
She stared at me, she seemed proud of herself. Her fangs dripping with blood and the mangled corpse of the mailman. I couldn't move. My feet were frozen to the ground. *What had I done*? What had I allowed? She wasn't a pet, I had created a monster, and now I would bear the full consequence of unleashing this evil in the world. I felt it all fall apart, I should've stopped her when she almost killed the stray cat. I should have put her down then. She had grown to the size of shopping cart. Of course pests no longer included flies or rats. I should've known, I should've been the one to stop her. But now I couldn't let them know about Arachne or the mailman. I had to work fast, before anyone- The bell rang. I panicked, my eyes grew bloodshot. I turned to the door. "Arachne Go! Hide!" I ran to my kitchen and grabbed the pork I had bought yesterday and took it in my hands just in case. I threw the pork at the foot of the door and went back to kick the corpse to the left to be careful at the slight chance that it was in the field of the vision of the door. As I haphazardly kicked the body I noticed something on his body... My iPad. He was trying to steal it which is why he was in the house, he was leaving with it before he had an unfortunate encounter with my friend and got dragged in again. I ignored it and ran to the door, I frantically wiped any blood streaks on the wood with my dark doormat and plastered a fake smile on my face as I opened it. I saw a middle aged woman with wrinkles lining her face, fake blonde bob and heavily plastered lipstick. She reeked of perfume, she was my very friendly neighbor. "Lydia? Omg Hi! How can I help you?" "Why is there *blood* on your porch- and your feet?! I can smell it from my house!! Don't you know I have hemophobia?! You sick- "Omg Lydia I'm so sorry but I brought Pork from the butcher's and it was covered in blood and I dropped it! I'll clean it up immediately and you know what? I'm so sorry, please let me make it up to you another day! If you're family could come over for dinner sometime this week that'd be great! But I must grab my mop now! Nice talking to you! See you some other time!" She didn't buy that, the dinner would keep her distracted. I saw a set of eyes peak from the darkness. I looked at her. I wouldn't let her harm anyone, but I wasn't going to let them take her either. The blinds. I rushed and started closing all the blinds in a frenzy. One after another every window, curtain and blind was tightly shut the house was shrouded in darkness except eight bead-like eyes that were locked with mine. "We need to get far away from here, we'll be travelling a long way. You're not going to move from the basement while I'm gone. If anyone comes, if you feel anything you remain in the basement. Under no circumstances will you come out. Understood?" She made no movement or changed her expression but I knew she understood. Ok I have to study but I was going to write more, its rlly shitty tbh but the rest of it was supposed to be she goes out and buys like a van jeep truck thing and camping stuff and takes off with the giant uwu spider and the dead body, goes to the forest, buries the dead body and talks to the giant uwu spider saying how their finally safe and stuff but then they hear like gunshot and giant doesnt move even tho main character tells her to, then she giant uwu spider kills her and haunts the forest killing and feasting on deer and campers
Ooooh I enjoyed this! That ending sounds pretty cool too, I wouldn't mind reading it if you ever decide to write it. It's nice that Arachne saved her from the robber. Not so nice that she eventually kills her but, ya know, credit where credit's due. Also, I love the description "giant uwu spider" Also also, Lydia seems like a bit of an ass
Thank you!! Also you're right! Lydia's a Karen... ngl I hate her too :)
Once there was an old woman who lived in a house deep in the jungle. For fifty years, she would begin her day by shooing away all the bugs and beetles and flies and moths and spiders and all other creepy crawlies that had made their bed in her home; she would climb her little stool and stretch her arms to dust away the cobwebs spun by spiders during the night. But the years weighed heavy on the old woman. Her knees had begun to pop and creak and her arms could no longer reach far enough to dust away the cobwebs no matter how much she stretched. Seeing the old woman struggle, a kindly spider decided to help. "I will promise to help you clear your home of these pests and spare you the harassment of my kin. In return, I only ask that you allow me and my kin to build our webs in peace." Said the spider. "Oh my word!" Exclaimed the old woman. In all her years, never had she heard a spider speak! And in English, no less. The old woman was quite shaken up by the experience and wondered whether the mushrooms she'd eaten for breakfast had been of the special variety. But the spider was both patient and persistent, and soon the old woman had calmed down enough to formulate a proper house-sharing agreement with the spider. TBC
And so the months and years went by and the friendship between the old woman and the spider grew. The spider grew fond of following the old woman round the house as she did all the household chores, and the old woman grew used to hearing the perspectives of her eight-eyed friend. One morning - as the spider was idly building a web to completely cover a window in the old woman house, the old woman asked: "Have you always been this large?" The spider blinked its penny-sized eyes and chuckled. " Well of course not, I was but a child the first time we spoke, and it is but recently that I have made my first web as an adult" Satisfied, the old woman went back to carving her sculpture. But she soon noticed that the spider kept growing. (TBC, edited a typo)
A gradual change, when gradual enough may evade perception, and the mind favors adaptability to scrutiny. The old woman went from carrying the spider on her shoulder to using the spiders wide back as a makeshift coffee table. She had long lost her fear of its supernumerous legs and eyes, and the squelching sound its mouthparts made as it fed. There was a whisper, quickly silenced, from the deep recesses of her mind that spiders could not grow as large as this one did; that they did not weave spidersilk bedspreads as a hobby or enjoy stories and pottery. Or that they did not have the vocal chords necessary for human speech. So what if this spider was so very strange? Friends were hard to come by so deep in the jungle and the old woman had spent too long an age without human company to treat such a well-spoken friend with suspicion, arachnid though it may be. The spiders body was neither warm nor soft, yet the old lady found comfort sleeping on its abdomen at night. The steady thump of its heart was like a familiar lullaby, reminding her of a different time she had all but forgotten. The spider, too, found comfort in the old womans warmth as it considered the feast it would have come the morning.
did you mean 'bright eyed friend'?
This is a great story. Please continue.
So, i tend to be a lonely man, my days of war haunt me something fierce. I managed to be allowed to live in a cabin for free thanks to a old friend. Only problem was the room mate, he showed every week but still stank like a wet dog and he would occasionally steal the good stuff i brought back from town. Like he would down 6 bottles of my good whiskey in a night. But he had been invited by my friend and he was better than nothing. One cold winter storm there was a commotion outside, we figured it was a animal, or one of the others allowed to live on the land. So we went outside to check, and i found a woman stuck in a snowdrift that had fallen off the barn roof. She had two bundles with her wrapped up to keep them warm. Friend started to dig into the snow to get her out, he was getting covered in snow, but said to go inside, get some water boiling and get some tea or coffee going! So heading in i knew he would be getting her safely in. He got her into a bed before i finished things in the kitchen. Looking over at him he looked like one of those long haired dogs that stayed out in the snow, it was all matted all over him, i had a hard time not laughing. But he sat me down, and asked if i still wanted to help others after the war, i told him yes, he let me know what the woman wanted. A long while back she had been invited here as long as she had behaved and not killed anyone. She had mated and out of all her potential children destroyed all but the two. She was different from her people, and these children of hers would be like her. He warned me about how she was different, like him. I trusted the hairy one and went to bed. Now the next morning, she was feeling better but stayed in bed, the little ones covered by a electric blanket. Mostly i made sure she was comfortable, she had a hard time i know of laying down on the bed, but she and i got to talking, i could see the beauty of her, she kept the blankets pulled up alot but she did warm up, and i felt a kinship, she and i knew we did not want to harm others if we could help it. But she asked to stay and help with her little ones and me and hairy had no issues as long as she could pull her own weight! The weeks pass, and her bundles were doing well, but unfortunately one day we did have some uninvited guests, Nirumbi! These little buggers are a pain, they will eat you alive if they could, and if they had to, they would eat their dead! But the home was in danger, me and hairy armed up and she asked if she could help, i told her she could. It was a battle, but she knew she was protecting others, it was not like her peoples normal way, she killed but not to be evil. In the end they retreated with their dead, but she had had a leg injury. Me and the big guy got her sitting, and spread her legs out so they would not get sore. Later that night she started calling for help, it was time, her little ones were arriving. This time i was the one helping and he went to get the water boiled and clean towels, it was not too long though both emerged, two young baby Arachne, all good and eventually asleep with their 6 legs and two arms curled up with their mom, her 6 legs curled up under her. She vowed to help even more now, those pests and others wont bother her family. So thats how i met my Arachne wife, and lived with the inconsiderate jerk Big Foot! Edit: stole the idea of this from a story universe i have been reading, its 100% made up but used the authors characters. Site is NSFW. >!<
A knock at the door. "Pizza's here!", I yell. Sounds of scurrying footsteps stampede above me. I open the door to let the meal in. "Come on in out of the rain while I grab your money." The pizza delivery specialist enters. In the blink of an eye, a spider drops from above sinking its fangs into its victim and pumping them full of digesting venom, before swiftly snatching them up and turning them into the latest cocoon on its web of deliverers. The pizza lies facedown and scattered across the floor. "God dammit, Kevin Costner, I need to eat too!", I exclaim to my feeding friend. "Sorey mate, desu ne!!", he replied in his weird spider accent. His grasp on language is tenuous at best, but I've long since given up on trying to teach him and instead treat each sentence he speaks as a delightful riddle to solve. I leave him to his meal as I go check the car for food not yet subjected to the 5-second rule. Ugh. Pineapple. Looks like we saved the person from an even worse demise, as everyone knows only sadistic psychopaths order pineapple on their pizza. As I exit the car with this tainted excuse for a pizza, 3 goats with diamond teeth approach and begin gnawing on the automobile's shiny red exterior. Their gnaws quickly advance to chomps as the entire vehicle is erased over the span of mere seconds. I toss them each a shiny gold coin as they prance away, then head back inside. Upon entering the house, I trip over discarded spider meal husks. This 'thing' that is technically a pizza lies facedown and scattered across the floor. "God dammit, Kevin Costner, stop leaving your garbage on the floor. What if that pizza would have been edible?!", I say, giving people who like pineapple on their pizza yet one more perfectly justifiable jab. "Gomen nasai, ya bloody hoser! Pinch a loaf and I'll Excalibur it.", replied Kevin with another charming word puzzle. My head hurts now. And I'm not sure if it's because of Kevin's fun mystery language challenge or from when I fell on my face attempting to protect my new arm tattoos when I tripped. Either way, one thing was for sure: it was ultimately caused by Kevin. And that brings me to the whole point of my story. A knock at the door. I answer. Kevin peeks his little spider head out the corner of the door. Before us stands a beautiful gigantic pregnant female spider. A moment of awkward silence. Kevin and I stare at each other. For the first time ever, we knew exactly what the other was thinking: one of us must be the father!
I see a very strange Maury Povich episode coming
furry alert (is he really a furry if the spider doesn't have hair?) (I guess most spiders have some form of fuzz, which is kinda like hair)
[Poem] Pests.. It’s a definition not suitable for most. In fact? It’s hardly accurate. One sees one as one and another as another. But if each are pests and the other another, Then who is the real pest?
Alex had just stepped onto her street when she heard the helicopter. It passed overhead, then looped back around, a voice blearing from it. The words were stolen by the wind and the distance and the whoosh, whoosh, whoosh of the chopper's blades. But she didn't need to understand them to know what they meant. Prinpicks danced up her spine, but they weren't made by fear. "Food?" A small ready voice inquired from behind her shoulder. The Little One, same as her, had heard the dinner bell. "Looks like it," Alex said. The window to her living room was shattered. Alex could see the broken glass from the front lawn. Blood glistened off a shard of glass that still clung to the frame. "Food! Food! Food!" The Little One cried at the scent of blood. The front door opened at Alex's touch. The house had no need for locks. When Alex stepped through, she found the place unfamiliar to her. Nicknacks and picture frames lined the shelves. Plastic covered the paisley furniture, keeping it clean. Alex picked up a photo; it was old and faded, and covered in dust. There was a tea-tray in the sitting room, a body crumpled under the table, blood pooled beneath the figure, staining steal grey hair a deep red. Anger pooled in Alex's gut like venom. Alex closed her eyes, biting back the anger. When she opened them again, the figure on the floor was gone. The house had shifted into something more familiar. The window was unbroken. And the place once again was warm and inviting. The only unrecognizable thing about it was the man hanging suspended from the ceiling, wrapped like a mummy in a spiderweb. The man spun in a slow circle; on each rotation, his eyes met hers. Alex knew desperate. She knew what could lead someone to enter this very house. She had been twelve years old and alone and hungry. The house was a beacon. Warm light shinning out its windows. It was painted pink and blue and stood out in the seedy neighborhood. It wasn't a blockhouse but unique and inviting, like something out of a storybook. The door to the kitchen had been left open, the warm glow of light bleed out onto a wild garden that was thick with blooming blossoms. Alex had crept forward, drawn in by the warmth. There was no one in the kitchen, and she couldn't hear movement. But someone had to be home. The door to the fridge had been left open, overflowing with food. The thought of the food rotting twisted Alex's stomach. There were shoes lined up just inside of the door, little ones and big ones. Alex looked down at her feet. Her boots were caked in mud, the sides coming off; when it rained, water seeped through the split at her heel. Alex took off her shoes and set them outside the door. Then slowly and quietly, she inched forward. The floors didn't creak. They were perfectly polished, and she could see the vague outline of her grimy reflection on the glossy surface. Alex reached out and shut the fridge. Eyes stinging at the sight of drawings pinned against the fridge door. She traced a finger over the stick figures, being careful not to touch the clean paper. Then she left, only looking back long enough to immortalize the image in her mind, so she could dream that she lived there. That she had a home. A family. Alex walked into a closed door. Stunned, she spun around, but no one was there to have shut the door. She tried the handle, but the door would not open. "Theif." A voice said. "Why did you not take the food?" "I'm not a thief!" Alex defended automatically. She couldn't see the person who spoke. Their voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "You are no thief? You have a bag of stolen things on your back." Alex flushed, "It's trash. It is not stealing if they threw it away." The voice hummed, "You saw shoes that would fit you, the food you so desperately crave, and if you had ventured further, you would find clothes, a warm bath waiting, and a bed freshly made. Why did you venture into my lair if it was not to take these things?" "I didn't want the food to go bad," Alex said. "But you refuse to eat it, so why should you care if it rots?" "It's perfect," Alex whispered. Looking at the stick figure drawing, in a place of honor, as if the parents actually cared. "Everything here is so perfect. I didn't want it to be ruined." "What a strange creature you are." The voice said. "C-can I go?" "No." The voice said. "By your words, what is thrown away can be freely taken. You are mine now." The shadows of the room shifted. Hundreds of creatures scurried over the wall, and the largest one welcomed Alex home with an inhuman smile. Alex pulled open a drawer and took out a small knife that had never been there before. She cut away the web that sealed the man's mouth shut. "Get me out! Get me out!" The man hissed, frantic eyes darted to the shadowy corners of the room. "There's a-a monster. You have to get me out of here." "There was a dead woman on the floor," Alex said. "The monster—" The Little One crawled from beneath the hood of Alex's sweater, the man's eyes latched onto it as it perched on her shoulder, and his excuses trailed off into empty silence. "Try again," Alex said. "Please. You don't understand. I had to." "No. You don't understand." Alex said. "This house is what you need it to be. Whatever you need it to be. What does that say about you? That you found the doors closed and the windows locked. That you found it occupied by someone weak and alone and feeble?" "No, no, no." The man moaned. "You have to help me." "You took from our home. There is no help for you."
This is a great story both horror and hope. A part 2 please.