Spider Spider

There was no radioactive spider and there was no bite, what there was was a group of large men with sedative darts waiting in a ally that I used to use as a short cut home. I saw them looming and my heart jumped a beat and I turned on my rubber souled sparkly shoes and tried to run, I felt the sting on my neck beneath my glossed pink shock of hair. I fell to the ground groggy and thought that was it, I was going to be gang raped to a pulp.

But the thugs didn’t touch me, at least not in that way, instead they must have bundled me into a van and driven me to the lab. I awoke in a clean room, the air tasted of antiseptic and I was bald and naked with a fine white sheet over the top of me. I looked around dazzled by the harsh lights and found a stack of white clothing, sterile and neat in the corner. They were draped over the back of a smooth plastic chair – it too was white.

Frowning I put the cloths on and examined the room. Was I dreaming? No I hurt! I had a blooming headache from the tranquilizer and bruises from my mishandling and fall to the pavement, even the dart had left a contusion on me.

I was sure there were cameras and I couldn’t open the door, I began to rant and rave and threat. None of it did any good of course but it did make me feel slightly better. After a while – I do not know how long – a tray of food slide out of the wall just infront of the chair. I looked at it suspiciously and thought of going on a hunger strike, after all it could be poisoned but then I thought of those I had seen who had been on hunger strikes and how the brilliant brightness of their eyes always remained afterwards and seemed to hurt them so.

I sat and I ate, it was not like real food, it was salty and bland and just right temperature wise.

I had three of these meals and began to think I was perhaps in quarantine, was there a plague loose in the city? With the antibiotic resistance being so high and silver all being horded by the politicians for their private use, it was an obvious conclusion. I was wrong.

I was hungry but no meal appeared and my stomach rumbled and I thought of zombie apocolypses and wondered if I was now the only human alive, I wept and ranted and hit the walls. A gas oozed into the room with a strange greasy smell and I wavered into a stupor. I did not resist as the masked white clothed people took me from my cell. I was strapped onto an operating table and watched with narcotic calmness as they took blood and skin samples, the walls were all screens flashing up numbers and symbols I could not follow.

They hooked me up to a machine and I watched my blood circulate through it, mixing it with something else and then return to me via another pipe. They were doing stuff to some of the blood and then feeding it back to the machine. I felt the nausea rise. I heard a cry of, ‘low blood pressure,’ as I vomited over myself.

At some point I lost consciousness. I awoke still connected to the machine, most of the drugs had worn off and I needed a drink, just water, only water, it was all I craved as my lips stuck together, tongue so thick. Someone helped me sip and I knew a strange pleasure in the sweet silky touch of water.

I could not move, my legs were numb, not pins and needles just sort of not there or floating. I noticed a bag filling with urine and reasoned I was on a catheter. I thought my heart would explode with fear. Then a man with smooth beard appeared, it was blonde and his eyes were blue and bright in suntan.

‘You shall be the mother of a new race!’ he declared and smiled a white brightness. I stared at him and attempted to fight the restraints on my wrists, I’d pulled the tubes out once so now I was force fed.

He enjoyed explaining how he had spliced DNA and how I would change. Trembling, I sobbed and screamed and bit my cheek in the hope pain would wake me up from the nightmare. My salty blood slicked my tongue and I spat it out in fear of it’s corruptness. I awoke back in the sterile room and I had a fever. I felt the change coming, I was restrained on the bed and bucked against it. The pain was blooming bright and I twisted and raved and then I was… something else.

Monstrous monster. I vowed I would kill him and his team. But it is not my metamorphosis they were after but what my womb could produce, they would make me a mate. I clicked instead of screaming and lay petrified.

Spider Spider crawling there and it was me unaware and I was killing and I looked at the man who had turned me into this and I laughed and I pulled him into an embrace, black widow I took him to his grave. In a strange way I feel it is how he wanted it. But there was no egg sack, no plague to destroy the plague of man just me and my child and we hide. Sometimes we decorate the trees by the sea in cobwebs.

Spider Spider.

Posted: Thursday, May 16th, 2013 @ 11:03 am
Categories: Flash Fiction.
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