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A Web of Thoughts

Be true to yourself or die by your avarice

By Equilla BPublished about a year ago 12 min read

He lay upon a comfy futon in his lavished apartment though his mind was troubled by many thoughts. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, motionless. It was a backdrop for his memories that played on repeat to the sound of his flowing tears.

Why am I a failure? He questioned himself though he needed nothing. His fridge was full of food, and if he needed more, he could simply go to the store and buy more. He had the latest phone, two laptops, and this clean apartment on the sixth floor of a building downtown. What did he want? What could he need?

He pondered these questions, dissatisfied with the answers his mind gave him. I have everything I need, but I'm still not happy. He sighed deeply, paying close attention to his breath to slow down his racing mind. Why am I not happy?

The movie in his mind changed to a new scene. It had previously been a random assortment of thoughts, mixed emotions, and images that made no sense, but his prying had focused this chaos into a clear picture. He saw a woman whose face he had never forgotten.

Rachael. When did that happen? Back in high school, right? I can't believe that was four years ago. You looked so good in those shorts. Those lips were so full, that ass so phat. But I was too awkward back then to say anything.

Indeed, he was. He was a much more undeveloped version of himself who couldn't speak to the girl he was interested in and instead followed her around the school, trying to build up the courage to say something. She got in a relationship before he could say anything, however, and by then, the whole school thought he was a creep.

I'm not creepy. I just didn't know what to do, what to say. If I saw her now, I'd say hello. She probably wouldn’t speak to me though... His reputation had been sullied a million times over now. Even Gollum had a better chance with her now than he did, or with any woman for that matter.

Who else is there? Jada. She was nice. I even saw her after graduation one time. She seemed so happy, working at her new job, and I was happy for her too, but I didn't tell her how I really felt. She was a nice friend, but I wanted more.

I wanted her to twerk on me. I remember we were in class one day, and she was twerking on everyone. She was always so rachet. She even twerked on me, but it wasn’t anything special since she did it to everyone else already, but I really wanted her to do it again. I wanted her to do it "for" me next time. Do it because she “loves” me.

More names came to mind. I asked Faith out and she led me on for weeks. I couldn't get enough of her, though. I just kept thinking about her. And more names. What about Erika? She was into me; I know it! But she started dating someone else, my best friend. Why does this keep happening to me!

Countless names. Bethany. Irene. Carly. The list goes on. All of them are traitors in his eyes. They never gave me a chance! I have money now! I graduated college with a fucking engineering degree, worked on myself, and still, no one respects me! No one loves me!

They're all gone now. Some had kids. Others got married. I'm just here in this empty room, and I'm supposed to be happy, but why can't I have what other people have! I worked hard for everything I have, but still, I can't get into a relationship. No one loves me! I'm by myself!

And he hated them. Fuck them! They couldn't handle me. They didn't understand me. They didn't give me a chance. They're all fucking whores, anyway. Yet he loved them. Jada... why didn't I tell you how I feel. I still love you.

And the thoughts swarmed him. They oozed out of every orifice and wrapped him in an insecurity blanket. It did nothing to console him, however. He bawled and watched as his memories turned cloudy once again. Why does no one love me? Everyone is in a happy relationship besides me. Why can't I be loved?!

He rolled over and pounded his fists against the futon. They bounced off, his strength as meager as his will. Yet he continued through sheer anger. Envy, his friend, was his only company in these low moments. He wanted what he could not have, not knowing he was the only one keeping his desires from him.

His tantrum only ended after he was left coughing and gasping for air from all the snot clogging his sinuses and pouring down from his nose into a pity puddle on his pillow. No amount of anger would bring him what he desired. So, he plopped back down on the futon and slowly fell asleep, his head resting on the dry side of the pillow.


Unknown noises brought him back to reality. His eyes slowly opened to a now dark room. It was late, and the only light came from a streetlamp outside. He reached for his phone to shine some light, but he couldn't find it.

In fact, he couldn't move. Legs. Arms. Nothing. No matter how hard he tried to move, something was restraining him, but he couldn't see what. Yet he felt something, many somethings scurrying along his body. They were like many thin lengths of wire, brushing against his skin and climbing up his limp body.

Spiders? Where did they come from? He didn't look. He closed his eyes, trying to wish away the scene his mind was putting together, but the feeling didn't go away. It was traveling up his arms and legs toward his torso. Where would they go from there? His neck. His face. Maybe they'd climb into his ears, up his nose. What would they do with his eyes? Latch onto them with their fangs? Lay eggs there? What the fuck do these little things do anyway besides creep out every person they come into contact with?

He couldn’t see this, but there were hundreds of them, thousands even. They were all working together to wrap him in a cocoon. They were swift about it, too. He knew they would be done soon enough, and then what, only time would tell.

They stopped, however—all at once. He could still feel the weight of all these tiny creatures upon his body, so he knew they hadn't left. But what caused them to stop?

"Hello, my little meat puppet." A voice from the far side of the room called out to him. The light from the streetlamp was shining on him, leaving the rest of the room in complete darkness. That is where the voice originated from. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

A long, hairy leg emerged from the shadows. Not a human leg, but the leg of a spider. Yet the voice was somewhat human. "Weren't you calling for me? I heard your pain, your dismay, and I thought you were calling for help. But you fell asleep; that’s awfully rude.”

Another leg came out of the shadows, and this time, he could see a small glimpse of a human torso. It replaced what would have been the spider’s head. The voice was odd as well. It wasn't quite feminine or masculine. It was garbled, a mix of human voices and something other that made him shiver.

It walked out into the light and revealed itself fully. It had the body of a black widow spider though it was the size of a dining room table. The human body from before was clearly female with large eyes and breasts and long, blonde hair. Though naked, she had prominent, black hairs all over her torso that matched the color of her spider body. This being stood around eight feet tall and carried the energy of something otherworldly and ravenous.

"My name is Rewan. I feed on the weak-willed and foolish, and you are a 'precious' specimen." She slowly walked over to him, looking down upon his cowering form. "You think you are so deserving of pity, yet I see all of your emotions laid out before me like a buffet. Envy. Lust. Arrogance. You are a continental breakfast of bullshit...and I love it."

Her hand reach down and caressed his face. It was as big as his face with claws just as long and sharp enough to pierce steel. She was gentle with them, however. Not a mark was left on his face as she fondled him in her hands.

"There's so many of you lately, naive lover-boys that I can snack upon. But you, however, are the most delicious I've seen yet. Your hypocrisy is a rare spice that I can't get anywhere else but from the most pathetic human beings. You are special to me just because of that."

Her hand moved from his face, down his neck and chest. "You're a meal that just keeps getting better. At first, you only lust after the ones you failed to talk to, that you might have had a chance with. Then, you go after everything that moves. Every woman your age or older. Most you barely even know. Many just have to appear before your eyes once, and your mind explodes with dirty thoughts.

"It's the ones you have no chance with that you fantasize over the most, however. Take me for example..." He watched as the hairs on her body vibrated and were then sucked into her body, enough to where you could clearly see her skin but still see the subtle swathes of hair. Her hand was over his heart, and she felt it race as she revealed herself to him. It was just the reaction she wanted.

"You're turned on by this," she said with a smile. She leaned in closely, her eyes only a foot from his. "I'm a monster, an evil entity of unimaginable power, but you see tits, and you can’t help yourself. You want 'me.'"

Her movements went from gentle caressing to ferocious in an instant as she clawed a hole into his pants, leaving claw marks on his dick. He screamed, but she covered his mouth just as quickly with her right hand. "Shh," she whispered. "I haven't given you something to scream about yet. Let me savor your cries."

She reached into his pants and grabbed a hold of him. Cock and balls in the palm of her hands, surrounded by claws that could slice through them in an instant. She cackled when she felt him grow harder just by her touching him. This was no pleasure scene, however.

She adjusted her grip and skewered his balls with her claws, inching deeper through the loose flesh until his sack resembled a tofu bag held together by toothpicks. Blood dripped out of the deep holes, staining the futon. Then, she ripped them off.

All in synch, his testes were ripped from his body, and she lifted her hand to let his wailing fill the entire room—no, the entire apartment building. His eyes squeezed shut as waves of pain repeatedly bashed him. It didn't die down with time. Every second got worse as the pain from the rush of blood pouring from his body threatened to knock him unconscious.

He had to escape. Adrenaline forced his body into a primal rage that managed to free him from the spider webs that had bound him there for so long. But that was all he could manage. He couldn't run or speak. He limped across the living room with the thousands of spiders following closely behind. Rewan just stood there and laughed, dangling his balls in the air.

He opened the door and collapsed in the hallway. This could have been his resting place, but no, he felt the spiders catching up to him, and he willed himself to move. He crawled in his own blood. He couldn't reach the elevator anymore, so he went for the stairs.

His vision filled with the images of the women he had wronged, but now, they were covered in a bloody filter that threatened to block out any light from reaching his eyes. The stairs were so close! The door was ajar. He could make it! He could crawl to freedom, away from that monster. Away...

He stopped. He went limp as the bleeding caught up with him and fainted only a foot from the stairwell. Where would he go anyway? Did he forget he was alone? His arrogance and his envy had allotted him security but no company, no allies. He was alone and died alone.

The spiders covered his body in webbing and drug him back to the apartment. His cocoon was drenched in crimson by the time he was safely back in Rewan's presence. She just laughed and got to work preparing her meal.


Hours passed before anyone noticed he was dead. They didn't hear his cries or the evil laughter that continued throughout the night. A janitor just happened to notice the blood trail and followed it to his room. But maybe all of that was a lie. Maybe they did hear the noises and just ignored them. Who cares; he was an asshole anyway.

But the janitor confirmed that he was indeed gone. The cocoon was hanging in the middle of the room suspended by spiderwebs as thick as suspension cables. The janitor poked it, and it swiftly burst, revealing a dense, soupy liquid of blood, molten bones, and a green goo that slowly inked out of the cocoon. On the side of the cocoon was a giant, red kiss mark

The janitor just sighed and started mopping.


About the Creator

Equilla B

Hello! I'm a 21-year-old horror and fantasy writer looking to gain experience on this wonderful platform! I'll write the occasional short stories and opinion posts, so please stick around.

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