The Darkest Widow

Written for Belle's unofficial challenge, 'Inside the mind of an animal' Details after the show.

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One can only spin so much web in a day. It keeps me occupied and allows thoughts to slowly quiet. Somehow, the intricately woven designs mirror the previous ones. Nature has a funny way of guiding us through elaborate steps just to reach similar results. I guess it's pointless to mull over something so trivial when I should be concentrating on proliferating within these walls.

The upright walkers have no intention of sharing this space. I have news for them. We were here first. I will retaliate, but first, I must build a new army.

On the day of reckoning, we were ambushed by a poisonous fog. The tiny, translucent orbs rushed into our environment from every direction, flushing out my soldiers like a deadly resurgence of Agent Orange. The recruits were no match against the aerosol as it quickly adhered to every part of their bodies. It was a massacre that can't be unseen. Their bodies spasmed out of control and contorted in unspeakable ways. I escaped the toxic fumes deep into the cracks of this shared dwelling and watched from afar as each of my progeny perished with insufferable agony. They were all persecuted by a fantastic weapon the upright walkers have in their arsenal. Angered by the tragedy, I retreated.

**

With the help of a suiter, strong and worthy enough to bear an army greater than the last, I will rise again. I shall keep this sire longer than the previous one. The trust issues I have are inherent and personal. These eyes must look beyond intrinsic behavior to allow him to live after the dreadful, yet necessary act of mating.

I shall appoint him captain and place him in charge of training the hundreds of mindless offspring. They are precious little things but must quickly learn the ways of the arachnids or face the same fate as the others.

Recently, I've spent many hours traveling room to room, keeping my attention on the predatorial strangers that live here. Their unpredictable routine of coming and going leaves me no insight into their hatred of my kind. Maybe it’s jealousy. Can anyone ever deny the advantage of having eight legs and eyes?

The subtle scent of remebered devastation leads me to their tools of destruction. I find them perched high upon a shelf in a dark enclosure. I seize the opportunity to seal the openings of each cannister with generous amounts of web, being very careful not to come into contact with the lethal residue. The next time they arm themselves for defense, the cannisters will most certainly backfire.

What they fail to understand is I carry my own weaponry—a potent venom fatal to potential prey, but will it be enough to take down the colossal frames of the walkers? I don’t know. This leads back to the importance of multiplying. It's an urgent obligation I burden myself with every passing second. Time is valuable.

During a stakeout, I notice a vulnerability of my foe. They spend an enormous span of the night dormant. They lay on a flat surface and become virtually motionless for hours. I suppose it’s some type of recharging ritual.

**

Nighttime returns, I stealthily wait until the last light goes out. The mounting anger over my loss fuels my motive. I see one of them below. My heart accelerates as I inch all the way down on a single thread of web and arrive on a soft covering. Many hills and valleys are traversed until the horizon reveals exposed skin. My fangs react to the suppleness of it and bite down until the poison is drained from my reserves. I again, disappear into the darkness.

I wait and wait...

When the light comes on a commotion ensues.

"Come on, Robert…get up! It's time for work! Get your ass up man!"

It rips the soft coverings off and sees the infected walker is barely breathing. Noticing my handiwork on its neck, it rushes out the room and returns with more walkers. The commotion escalates! Similar to the turmoil I faced when we were attacked.

My work is done for now. I make my way into a vent on the wall to initiate phase two - locate a mate.

The walker I bit into did not return for several days. They brought it back in a mechanical chair that it now uses to get around. The bite was damaging but not fatal as I'd hoped.

In two weeks, the eggs will hatch. Soon, copious amounts of venom will be gifted to each one of them.

They began this unprovoked war. And war is what they shall have. I now know when and where, they rest...