By Zac Singer ’22
I was home alone and the door opened revealing a sea of spiders the size of basketballs. I screamed. The spiders kept coming and coming. I was frozen in my seat by the kitchen. Gathering all my strength I screamed again. It did not help. The spiders were on me in an instant. Fangs pierced my sides. I sank to the floor. My vision blurred, and the last thing I heard was a cruel voice laughing.
Scientist Dr. Graveson looked across the sea, the wind rippling his long black hair. In his
hand was an old piece of paper which said in blood red:
You shall be my feast tonight
Your fate is locked,
So do not fight
Spiders will come,
so have some fun Before your time is over.
It was the only piece of evidence his collegue had found on the island. Dr. Graveson shuddered. It was one dark poem. Simple, but dark. He looked up. The moon was full tonight and he had finally reached the strange island. No one had been to the island and had come back to tell it. There was a rumor that there was an unknown specimen on the island. He only knew the coordinates of the island because his colleague had sent him a message before disappearing. Dr. Graveson’s breath steamed in front of him as the wind howled through the sails. The island grew nearer and nearer until he could see it quite clearly.
It was shaped like a horse-shoe around a swamp-like area. Spindly trees’ branches dipped into the murky water. Their roots came out of the ground as if they were trying to trip incomers. Grey moss creeped over the trees’ bark and across the rocky ground. The mud was black as coal, and the sky was dark and was threatening. The thick air was musty and stuck in his throat. It was heavy with condensation and reeked of long dead things.
Dr. Graveson pulled up to the rotting dock and put down the anchor. A couple meters away lay the reck of his colleague’s sailboat. Dr. Graveson hung his head in respect. The wind had died down and it was completely silent except for the creaking boat. Just then he saw something white not far from the boat. He cautiously neared it on foot, his black boots squelching in the mud.
When he saw what it was he recoiled in fright. There lay a human skeleton. Its bones were completely bare. It was wearing the same coat his colleague had worn the day he left. The ground around it was slightly stained with blood. Each bone has two puncture marks, as if the marrow was sucked out. The skull sat a couple feet away. Oh… Dr. Graveson thought. His colleague had only left two weeks ago. The bones shouldn’t be bare. In the breast pocket of the skeleton’s coat was a note. Dr. Graveson plucked it out of the pocket, shuddering at seeing the dried blood on the collar. The note said the following,
Dear Dr. Graveson,
I regret to inform you that the rumor is true. Today I found a new species of arachnid. It has long fangs and is about the size of my fist.
I have been trapped for several days in my boat, the spiders not daring to enter the water. I am slowly starving. The last of my food reserve is gone. Tomarrow I will go ashore in search of food.
P.S. The spiders are slightly hairy and is quite smart for an arachnid. Watch out for them. I found out that it drinks human bloo-
Suddenly leaves rustled behind him. He spun around and lashed out with his foot just in time to see a black mass of insects disappear in the foliage. His boot hit the thing hard. He curiously set down his foot and looked several feet away. There sat a black spider in the mud. He inspected it. It perfectly fit his colleague’s description.
The mysterious arachnids had throughly frightened Dr. Graveson. It was growing dark so he walked towards a clearing in the woods. As he set up his tent, he lit fires all around the clearing. This should keep the spiders out, he thought. It didn’t.
Dr. Graveson sat down and pulled his diary from his old backpack. He opened it and wrote to his wife in long spindly script:
Dear my beloved Rachel,
I am dearly sorry that I chose to come on this dangerous trip. I should not have left my wife and daughter back home. It was selfish of me. I belive that unless someone comes to help me, I may never return. So, because I am tired, I must end my letter with one last sentence. Good bye.
He ripped the piece of paper out of his leather-bound journal and grabbed an empty wine bottle from his bag. He uncorked it and walked to the edge of the water, leaving the brightness, and safety, of the fires behind him.
The trees creaked omniously and ripples spread across the swamp. Dr. Graveson bent down. Suddenly spiders dropped from the trees, sinking their fangs into his flesh, their high-pitched hisses filled the air. He fell to the floor. A high-piched wail was the last noise that escaped his mouth. Blood seeped from his head. An hour later all that was left was a grinning skull in a pile of bones, picked clean, and sucked hallow.
“Ha ha,” he cackled, licking his lips and drawing his jet-black cloak around him for protection from the vicious winds. An enormous spider crawled to his sholder hissing loudly. It crawled around and around his neck hissing louder and louder. He stroked the spider thoughtfully “Yes, we will hunt him tonight and you shall have a marvelous feast. Then, holding his spider as he called for his minions, he was lifted by a wave of arachnids and continued on his journey.
Merlin was a highly trained detective and he was determined to solve this horrid case.
He had been working all evening and now it was beginning to become dark. He took a deep breath and entered the gloomy house.
There, on the floor lay the teenaged kid, barely recognisible. This boy’s skin was shriveled up and his glasses lay next to him, the glass brocken. Suddenly, he heard the door creaking on the other side of the room. He froze. Then getting his common sence back, he sprinted towards the opposite door. It slammed shut.
The opposite door opened and a pale man wearing all black entered. He had greasy black hair that was slicked back. His teeth were like little knives in his thin mouth. He laughed, though his eyes were still glaring, as if to stare me down.
“Ah, at last! I have hunted you down for so long.” His voice echoed throughout the room. He glared at me.
“Merlin.” He said with disgust.
“Merlin. You made a big mistake. You thought you were so clever, catching me. You did not relize that your enemy was much cleverer than you. You know too much. So you must die.” Then he called his spiders on me. The spiders’ fangs sank into my neck. My screams of pain slowly died out.
The man in black walked over to Merlin. He grasped a handful of Merlin’s hair, pulled the man’s head back, and feasted.