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Description

    Time is something we all take for granted. The average person rarely stops to question it, or its mysterious motives. He or she never really thinks about the fact that it can go by like a bullet, or as slow as a crawling snail. Most of the time, something has to come up in order to spur this thought to action. Sometimes, that has to be a more tragic something. Such was the case with the woman. For her, it seemed to be going at an excruciatingly slow pace. It felt as if the wait would never end, and wanted to take as long as it wanted. For all she knew, it might not. Adamantly, she watched the door for a sign of relief. That relief would come as the return of her husband, whom she was desperately worried about.

    It had been a little over a week since the disaster at the local bioengineering plant. According to the local and national news, there had been a leak of poisonous and volatile chemicals in the research center. The staff had attempted to evacuate in time, but something sparked and sent the entire building to hell. The explosion, locals had said, could be heard from miles. Worse yet, the explosion had prompted a massive spill of chemicals the likes of which the town had never seen before. Nobody knew what kind of chemicals had been let loose, but none were brave enough to venture and find out.

    Her husband had been one of those men in the research center. Deep down inside, she knew very well that he couldn’t have survived. Still, a tiny glimmer of hope remained that kept her transfixed to the road in front of her house. She longed more than anything to see her precious husband one more time; to have a chance to say she loved him. The realist inside told her that she would never be able to do that. With an explosion of that size, it was likely that very few, if any, staff had survived. Throw in a chemical spill over top of that, and there’s almost no chance for survival.

    Letting this sink slowly into her mind, she decided that she had sat by the door long enough. The woman told herself that it was pointless to keep doing this same thing each night. Every night this routine had been lived out, but tonight that would stop. What happened in the past was in the past. Besides, she needed rest after a long day at work, and dwelling on her deceased husband wasn’t helping. Prying herself from the door, she then began to work on her nightly routine. The normal one, that is.

    Her house didn’t require too much effort to clean. A few dirty towels here and there, a few dishes to wash, and it was done. With the living area purged of unneeded mess, she proceeded on to the bathroom. Finally, after a good fourteen hours of being awake, the woman was finally able to tuck herself into bed and turn out the lights. A long day of work and despair was finally brought to a close by the simple movements of the eyelids to bring darkness. Yet, although her body was beginning to slip into a peaceful state, her mind never slowed down. It was a miracle that she ever managed to get to sleep in the first place.

    It was the middle of the night, and all was quiet. The dark household had fallen silent after the woman had dozed off, as if it awaited its master to tell it what to do next. Currently, the master was off dreaming. Well, to call it a dream was an overstatement. In all reality, it was a nightmare. It was this same thing every night, with recurring nightmares about the accident. She would be forced to watch him die again and again, unable to do anything to stop it. And, just like every night beforehand, the woman was forced awake. Tonight, however, wasn’t going to be like the other nights. This time, as she thrust herself upwards in a cold sweat, she felt something odd. A strange sensation, located around her private areas. It felt, quite simply, as if something was inside her nightgown. Curious, the woman slowly lifted the blankets off of her. Sure enough, there was a large bulge on her torso. A feeling of dread and fright passed through her. Reluctantly, she reached to pull the nightgown upwards. The woman counted to five in her head, and quickly yanked the gown. Upon seeing what the bulge was, the woman let out a terrified scream that practically shook the house.

    Sitting square on her vaginal region was a spider larger unlike any she had ever seen before. Its legs were long enough to reach out onto the bed, while the abdomen rested on her body. Just the body itself, not counting the legs, must have been as large as a football. When you added the legs into the equation, that circumference reached at least two feet. Its shape resembled that of a Brown Recluse, and its color was relatively similar as well. Unusually, it had blotches of blue and green all along its length. The eyes, magnified as with the rest of its size, glowed a faint neon color. Truly, this was no normal spider.

    Upon hearing the shrill scream of the woman, the spider looked up at her. It sat there for around five seconds as she screamed, before sinking its fangs into her thigh. The woman jerked herself away, reeling in pain from the spider’s precise and deadly blow. She tried to find something to throw at it, but only succeeded in finding a slipper on her nightstand. Still, she took it like an archer’s arrow and tossed it at the massive arachnid. The spider uttered a slight hissing sound, once again proving it was no normal spider. Immediately thereafter, it scurried off of the bed and out the door of her room. For the moment, the threat seemed to recede.

    It was a small victory considering the price paid. The woman now held her leg like a dying child, rocking in the fetal position and crying out in pain. In her mind, her fate was sealed. The toxins were surely spreading through her as she rocked back and forth, working on liquefying her insides. She had seen videos of how spiders kill their prey, as well as the horror stories on the internet. The woman had no idea what the spider’s bite was actually doing. Indeed, it was spreading through her like wildfire. However, the toxins were not really trying to kill her. They were simply working as they were intended to, after several days of constant evolution and adaptation. What they were doing at the time, however, was attempting to force her back to sleep. From there, the neurotoxins would get to work.

    She was in so much pain that she didn’t even notice she was becoming drowsy again. All she could think about was the fact that she was going to die, no matter what she did. Tears began to flow down her cheeks, staining them with a salty taste as she sobbed. Eventually, she managed to rest herself back down onto her pillow. At that very moment, she basically surrendered to the drowsiness caused by the spider’s bite. And so, wallowing in the puddle of her tears, the distraught woman sobbed herself to sleep.

    The very first thing she did in the morning was to grab the phone like a life buoy. The thought of the spider’s return gripped her and genuinely terrified her, so she vowed to do something about it. She remembered the number for pest control, and quickly dialed it in. After a brief but “lively” talk with the answerer, she had scheduled a man to come over and check things out later that day. Until then, she would have to live out her Saturday morning with fear and caution.

    It wasn’t until after breakfast that she realized the fact that she wasn’t in pain. No aches, no sores, not even a spot where she had been bitten. All that remained as proof of the incident were two bite marks, each around a millimeter in diameter. Hardly an example to describe the size of the creature responsible. On the subject of the spider, she began to ponder what kind of spider it had been. As she flipped through the TV channels, she began to recite all the spiders that she knew. The woman had made it all the way to the Golden Orb when the news channel began updating the public about a spree of strange creature sightings. She watched attentively as they discussed it, even when one man came up and said that it was linked to the recent chemical spill. Then it clicked in her mind. The spider must have been exposed to a large amount of chemicals. Something must have happened to it when the disaster happened. Maybe it ate a radioactive fly or something. Whatever it was, the chemical spill was the only explanation. Still, that didn’t manage to dissuade her fears any more.

    The pest control man arrived at noon. The woman, who was still embarrassingly in her nightgown, watched his every move. She watched him check the attic, the basement, and scan ever room with an infrared camera. He set traps, sprayed repellant and sealed holes all over the house. Still, there was no spider to be found. His job done, the man shook her hand and left. Although the spider never was caught, it managed to give her a little peace of mind. With the spider gone, all she would have to do was keep an eye on the bite. Other than that, everything appeared to be hunky-dory (That is, if you don’t count the deceased husband). Over the next few months, that would change.

    At least a week passed before anything happened worth noting. Even then, she had really thought nothing of it. She was shaving her legs off casually, when she noticed a small patch of hairs that were not easily persuaded by the razor. She had sliced and diced furiously, but the hairs remained steadfast. She settled that the next day by visiting the spa for a laser hair removal. And so, that was that.

    As had happened before, it was some time before the next change became apparent. Six weeks after the incident with a certain arachnid, there was a time in which the woman had a spell of… “gastric distress.” After the ordeal was over, she had made the mistake of looking into the bowl. Laced into the feces and urine was a thread of silky, white string. To any normal person, this would have seemed extremely out of place. But, as she had eaten pasta the night before, she dismissed it as nothing. This cycle was bound to continue for a very substantial timeframe.

    On one particular day, around 10 weeks after the incident, she decided to weigh herself. By no means had she ever been worried about being “fat.” However, as she looked at the readings on the scale, the woman noticed that she had packed on a few pounds. Quickly running to her mirror to examine herself, she was able to pinpoint the locations that had received such nourishment. Her buttocks had enlarged somewhat, to the point that it must have been an inch or two wider. It stuck out whenever she walked, making her look like a cursive “f” in terms of shape. The second region that was different, surprisingly, was her stomach. It was bulging out a good bit compared to what it had been before. This raised an eyebrow, as she hadn’t increased the intake of food any time in the recent past. Her exercise habits were the same; nothing had changed at all concerning how she treated her body. This greatly troubled her.

    More troubling, as it would seem, was the fact that this continued to increase. Over the next two or three weeks, her stomach had enlarged in size to roughly that of a pregnant woman. Her butt had done similarly, growing at least an inch more. And, on top of this, she had noticed the white and stringy substance returning to her feces. At first she had believed it to be spaghetti dinner, but more and more it seemed like a health issue. For a little while, she had debated whether or not she was pregnant. In the end, however, that was impossible. She had never done it with her husband, or ever in general. Therefore, there was no possible way for pregnancy to be a possibility. With pregnancy ruled out, it had to be a strange health issue. One that demanded a doctor’s visit, at that. Strangely, she never mustered the courage to go to the doctor. In her mind, she simply accepted that it was out of her control. It wasn’t like it was hurting her or anything. She was simply losing her attractiveness. And, to a woman who never really cared about beauty, that was something that she could live with.

    Over the next few weeks, there was relatively little change. Her size remained the same, the strange bathroom occurrences continued, but nothing new reared its head. And so, over time, she began to get used to it. Unfortunately for her, that would eventually be shattered. As fate would have it, that happened exactly 32 weeks from the date of the incident.

    She was relaxing that afternoon, sitting on the couch and watching the television. A bag of potato chips rested in her lap, and she was just about to pick up the final chip and send it on its journey. As she reached into the bag, however, the woman experienced one of the most nauseating sensations she had ever gone through. Her skin practically crawled, and the woman had to restrain herself from puking onto the couch (or herself). The only way to describe the feeling was to say that it felt as if her uterus was full of crawling bugs. They felt as if they were moving all around in her lower body, trying to free themselves by any means necessary. She grasped her region as she keeled over, promptly upchucking everything she had ate for the past three hours. Then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. She was left there, her mind racing about what had just happened. Life would only give her enough reprieves to collect her thoughts. The woman had gone through enough preparation; it was time to hit her hard and finish the job.

    She had barely begun to walk towards the bathroom before she was forced to the ground unwillingly yet again. This time, however, was far different from the first. While the first was more of an extreme discomfort and queasiness, this was actually legitimate pain. It took hold throughout her entire body, from the crown of her head to the tip of her toe. It was a sharp pain, like one that would be caused by a sharp foreign object being twisted around inside her. The woman screamed an almost inhuman scream that only true pain could force, as a prickly sensation appeared on top of the general pain elsewhere. These were tiny hairs, forcefully emerging from her skin and beginning to cover her body. She wanted to call 911, but she simply lacked the energy to fight through the pain and do so. This shortage of power was caused by her bones shrinking and dissipating; transferring the essential nerves and hardened materials to her now-forming exoskeleton. Of course, due to her current problems, she couldn’t have known this. All she could know was that she felt as if she was slowly dying.

    Though tougher than it had been beforehand, her skin remained flexible for the moment. This opened a window for her abdomen to enlarge, creating space for the organs essential for her new life. The cheeks of her buttocks merged into one, gigantic mass of flesh, fatter and bigger than the rest of her body. New organs were beginning to form inside the spacious area, while already existing ones began to move around. The woman’s breathing ceased momentarily as her internal workings were precariously shifted into their new locations. Her heart journeyed down to her abdomen, as did her reformed and very different lungs. Just as it seemed she was about to suffocate, the organs finished their transitions and resumed work keeping her ever-changing body alive. All the while, she experienced the intense discomfort of a spinneret piercing the skin located under her anus. It bloodily pushed its way out, until it was firmly put in its place. To finish these changes for the time being, a coat of hair completely obscured the now-hardened exoskeleton around the abdomen. This coat was complete with multiple blotches of blue and green elaborately spaced across her.

    Just as had happened earlier, the practically paralyzed woman ceased screaming as the pain began to recede. Replacing the screams were tears, now streaking down her face. A million thoughts ran through her mind all at once, particularly concerning her fate. She now realized that the spider all those months ago had indeed done something when it bit her. Now here she was, with an abdomen just like that of the creature that had caused her all this suffering. She looked up through the tears at the bathroom she was trying in vain to reach, staring longingly at the bottle of painkiller sitting on the sink. Every part of her wanted to get there, but her legs simply wouldn’t let her do what she wanted to.

    As she sat there struggling to move, the pain returned with a vengeance. At this point, the pain was not widespread. It was focused solely on her torso, as well as her arms and legs. The woman looked through the tears at her hands and arms as the same tiny hairs covering her abdomen protruded from her skin here as well. These began to sprout up everywhere, leaving only her head untouched. The screams returned yet again as she lay there, forced to watch her life change before her eyes. It was at this point that a strange feeling came from in from of her stomach, between it and her exoskeleton. Bulges in her skin began to protrude, where new pockets of space painfully formed. As this took place, her arms and legs underwent their turn. While she would not be able to see her legs change, she was forced to watch her human arms become anything but. They slowly extended to almost twice their length, causing intense pain as new nerve endings formed and old ones either died or changed. Her hands transfigured as well; fingers fusing together into two tiny claws, sitting square at the tips of her long and hairy newly-formed legs. Her human legs underwent the same changes, resulting in equally as much torment.

    No reprieve was given this time. The very next change was more excruciating than the latter, as her torso began to round out and enlarge. Her legs journeyed down her sides, twisting and popping themselves into their new places. The newer pockets, which before had no purpose, quickly demonstrated their need. An intense new feeling came in, relatable to her insides wanting to come out. These were her new legs, which popped their way out of her skin and slowly began to protrude to a greater length than her four existing ones. Blood and torn skin lay on the floor, the former pooling up into a small puddle until the legs finally ceased to grow. With a painful crack and pop, all eight of the woman’s legs were locked into place. Her stomach underwent changes itself, making itself ready for the final changes that would complete everything. As before, when it was all over, the blotched hairs completely covered the exoskeleton.

    The only part of her body that had yet to be affected was her head. It didn’t take long for this to change, as a massive headache took hold of her. The pain was now more intense than ever before, as her neck completely disappeared. Her thorax and head were now one; a cephalothorax. Inside her head, the brain migrated slightly down to allow more space for six new eyes. New nerve endings linked from the brain to the front of her head, as six holes for eyes opened on top of her head. As these new “gifts” were formed, the woman’s face completely disappeared. Her nose receded, unnecessary as the new scent receptacles were located on her legs. The mouth shifted painfully as her jaw split into two massive mandible-like jaws, complete with fangs linked to new venom glands located above the mouth. Vision was affected drastically by the change in her eyes, which went from beautiful amber to solid black. Everything at a long distance became blurry, until the brain finished linking her feet to the optical systems. The woman could see everything in an entirely different manner. Every single movement, she saw. Every scent, she smelt. She could feel the rat scurrying around in the attic. She could smell the cheese sitting at the bottom of the fridge.

    A pause fell over her broken and reformed body. All discomfort and pain ceased. The thoughts racing through the woman’s mind began to slow down, and most of her fear slowly disappeared. What rushed in to fill that hole, surprisingly, was acceptance. The woman, or spider, understood that her fate was sealed. There was nothing she could do to stop that. She was no longer a woman. No, she was a deadly creature designed to kill. New and animalistic ideas filled her mind. Kill, build, and breed were the only things that she thought. And, to represent the victory of beast over man, the last of her human hair detached and fell to the ground. What replaced was the same blotched hair that covered the rest of her body. She was complete: the perfect killing machine.

    Truly, she was a beast to behold. Eleven feet long when counting the legs, and ten feet wide. She stood at four feet high, standing weakly on her eight new legs. Eight black eyes scanned the room, disturbing enough to terrify even the toughest man. There were approximately fifteen blotches, six green and nine blue, spotted across her otherwise-black body. She twitched and looked around uneasily, being weak and exposed. No creature, big or small, would dare expose itself in her sight. She was easily the most powerful creature around for miles. That power would become evident later, much to the discontent of the local residents.



    TEN DAYS LATER



    The afternoon calm was broken by the sound of tires squealing to a stop of a gravel driveway. It was a police cruiser, lights off and sirens silenced. The door swung open, and a tall, skinny man stepped out. The policeman leaned his head down to his walkie-talkie, and muttered a few words to the woman on the other end. His job was to investigate the premises, as the woman supposedly living within had not been seen for over a week. The officer almost grinned, happy to have an assignment that was actually interesting. It had been weeks since something had happened worth noting. He was just about to say something else to the receiver when he heard a loud crash from within the house, followed by a shrill squeal.

    Startled, he drew out his sidearm. Slowly he began to step towards the front door, carefully observing every detail of the house. The large living room window’s curtains were ripped and torn, and the glass was stained with a web-like substance. Peculiar, he thought. Upon reaching the door, he gave three quick knocks. Nothing happened. He knocked again. Nothing. If he was to see what lie beyond the door, he would have to use force. The officer counted to five, and kicked the door down with all his force. As the dust settled, the officer stepped into the house with his weapon at the ready. Nothing would prepare his for what he saw.

    Spider webs covered the entire house. Furniture was flipped over, couches ripped, and a massive, empty sac hung in the corner of the living room. The lights flickered ominously due to prolonged activation. As startling though this was, it was by no means what terrified the man. That duty would fall to the dozens of spiderlings, each the size of a cat, rushing quickly towards him. He discharged the gun multiple times, missing his mark. The tiny creatures, provided graciously by a particular spider several months prior, leaped upon him and knocked the officer to the ground. He screamed, believing that this was his doom. No, not yet. The spiders crawled over him and out the door, scurrying into the dense forest behind the house. By opening the door, the officer had effectively sealed the fate of every resident of his town. His fate would be worse.

    As he attempted to stand himself back up, he heard a shrill screech from directly behind him. He didn’t even have the chance to turn around. The new mother pounced upon him from behind, thrusting him to the ground. He squirmed and squealed, but the spider’s long legs kept him pinned no matter what. This made him an easy target for two long, thick fangs to puncture his back. The screaming began to lessen, until there was nothing but a dull silence. The hungry spider, her next meal in sight, slowly dragged the helpless body into the shadows of the kitchen. Dinner was served.