Halloween Series 2022

Along Came a Spider

“You’re a witch. You’re a wizard. Open your mouth and let the spiders out! Unleash your mind; for sometimes it’s so much better than being quiet.”  Sijdah Hussain

* * *

 The game was on the television, loud enough to hear all through the house as everyone brought in box after box, taking them to the appropriate room. It was October, the thirtieth, 2010, and the Matheson family were moving into the old farmhouse that had been left to them by Richard’s great aunt, Mary Louise Matheson.

Richard had gotten a job in nearby Greenville as a bank execute and Emily managed to get the guidance counselor position at Highland High School, just north of Blackridge, the little town that served their community. They were just outside the town limits on what was left of the Matheson farm, a forty-acre plot that consisted of the old farmhouse, a small pasture to its right and behind it, nothing but woods all the way down to Piney Woods Creek. The farmhouse was once again to become a home, after sitting empty for almost two years, then going through a two-month refurbishment. A home for Richard and Emily, and their three children: Rayford (13 years old), Elizabeth (11 years old), and Preston (6 years old).

The house had been added onto in the fifties, then again in the early eighties. There was a master suite off the kitchen and a large family room off the back with a full width screen porch overlooking the sloping rear yard. Upstairs there were three bedrooms, one tucked under the sloping roof of the front porch and having an odd space coming back around under the main roof, just wide enough for a queen bed to slip into. Rayford and Elizabeth, being older, got the two bigger bedrooms, and little Preston got the unusual room at the front of the house. Despite its quirky layout, he loved the little room with the ribbon of windows looking out over the front yard and his bed in its niche. The walls around the bed were finished with chalkboard paint, and he imagined all the things he could draw on them. A new desk sat at the windows and to one side a freestanding shelving unit with his goldfish bowl with two fish and the small terrarium with his turtle and snails.

Rayford and Elizabeth carried boxes to their rooms, followed by Preston who carried individual items he could manage, his microscope, his chemistry set, his satchel and backpack, and his favorite doll, a boy in camping attire.

Preston was different, and not that way, not yet, but in other ways. Rayford had footballs, baseballs and gloves, and video games for warring and sports. None of Rayford’s things interested Preston. He was more curious about the things hidden in the dark places. The slithering crawling creatures that lived in the woods, along the creeks, or under the house in the crawlspace. He didn’t understand them, but he was fascinated to the point he wanted to. His children’s books were frustratingly lacking in the information he sought, and he had gotten his mother to buy him books that were a struggle to read, but he tried, sounding out the long difficult words.

For the entire afternoon, the family moved boxes and bulky items into the house. By nightfall, everything was moved in. As Rayford set up his room, Emily helped Elizabeth get her bed made and her prized doll collection set along the shelf over her desk. At the end of the hall, Richard helped Preston set up his room, making up his bed, setting up the small laptop computer he got for his birthday back in January, and the most important thing to him, the microscope. It fascinated Richard how his children could be so different from each other, especially Preston, his youngest. He encouraged him to explore and to study the things that fascinated him, assuming it would lead to a career that would be enjoyable, unlike his job at the bank.

Preston stood in the backyard, looking toward the woods and the old storage shed that sat under their canopy. It had been three weeks since his family moved into the farmhouse and in that time, he had been busy setting up his room how he wanted it, then exploring the house itself with its cellar beneath the kitchen and just a crawlspace in the remainder of the area beneath the house. He had been told to stay out of the storage shed, that the roof looked ready to collapse. Looking at it from where he stood, it merely looked covered in moss. He looked back making sure no one was watching, then walked across the yard to the edge of the wood and up to the shed. There was a slide bolt, and it was so high he struggled to get it to move, but eventually it slid to one side freeing the door.

Inside it was what he expected. Spider webs hanging from the exposed rafters and spanning between nearly item within. The shelves along one wall, one with empty canning jars. On the other wall sat a few metal crates and one rotten basket and on the wall at back a bent rake and a shovel were leaned against the wall.

Preston looked around the crates, pushed the deteriorating basket to one side, finding a little black snake.

“Well, hello little snake,” Preston whispered as he watched it move toward the back wall and through a gap in the planks.

He turned and looked at the spiderwebs, seeing most were old and torn, but in front of the top shelf, there was one perfect in its symmetry. The lines coming from the center out to some support and starting in the middle the long line that radiated out. He back away and looked at it, fascinated by its pattern and how its real purpose was to capture prey.

Preston stepped outside and moved along the edge of the yard until he saw a small grasshopper jump from his path. He gave pursuit, just missing it time, and time again, until it landed wrong, and he was able to trap it.

Back in the shed, he wondered where to put the grasshopper on the web and decided the very center was best. He gently pressed the green insect to the web and stepped back and waited. It squirmed and kicked trying to get free. The web vibrated with its movements, shimmering in the dim light. Preston kept his eyes on the perimeter and suddenly he saw it. A large brown spiker emerged from its hiding place. It moved cautiously out to the edge of the web. Preston stood still.

“A barn spider,” whispered Preston as he watched it suddenly move quickly to subdue the grasshopper.

The grasshopper wrapped in webbing; Preston turned to further explore the shed. He raked the leaves and debris from the walls and uncovered a broken clay pot. The round bottom was intact with a portion of its fractured side holding it off the ground. Looking at the hole, Preston saw a web and he eased the fragment slowly over revealing the black widow beneath. He smiled at his good fortune, for it was the first one he had found. He looked at the shiny black spiker with its red hourglass marking knowing it was almost blind, but well aware of his presence.

October 30, 2014

Preston slipped into the cellar, a place his mother hated and refused to enter, thus giving him the privacy, he needed. He eased along the damp dirt floor until at the upside-down flowerpot. He eased it over and saw the webbing, then up near the bottom of the pot, the black widow. She sat still, unmoving and he sprinkled a few fire ants into her web and eased the pot back in place.

He had moved one from the shed three years ago and helped feed them letting them live out their lives. The one in the pot was the third female to survive. She was over a year old, longer than usual for the species, but he assumed it was the abundance of food and protected environment.

Now ten years old, Preston had been reading more complex books, struggling with technical names, but absorbing the information they provided him. Books on arachnids, insects, small mammals, and reptiles that he might encounter. He also read about explorers from history, evolution, and other topics that captured his interest, for he was bored with school and the simplistic lessons of his class.

He also found himself watching his brother. Richard was 17 and to Preston he was a man. The sideburns and shadow of a beard and a body that was no longer skinny with no definition. He didn’t understand his fascination with his brother maturing, but it intrigued him to see the changes. He thought of the way Richard’s voice changed, first getting gravely and at times high pitched. Then he had noticed the body hair. Down the legs, under the arms and once, when he had walked in on Richard in the bathroom, the dark hair over his penis.

And Preston thought of Richard’s penis, how it looked so much bigger than his own and the sac hung so long, the nuts sitting it is bottom. He had looked in the mirror at his own body wondering when these changes would happen to him. He didn’t know why, but he wanted them to happen sooner rather than later.

At school, now in the sixth grade after the school talked his parents into letting him skip second grade, he was still bored with the lessons. The teacher droned on and on about such simple math he found himself drawing insects and spiders, none more so than his favorite, the black widow. Then the English lessons covered such simple readings, he finished quickly and before everyone else, and the papers assigned, he never fell to earn the top score, and a note of praise for tackling difficult subjects. It was the science topics that garnered any interest, the thing he learned the most was the method of study and research used by scientists. It gave him a process to use with his black widows.

Preston also sensed a difference between him and the other boys. Some nuance he couldn’t identify, but he felt it. He found himself looking at the other boys, listening to their blusterous rhetoric and each trying to exert themselves. Preston thought them primitive, like apes in the wild, but he still found himself listening, fascinated by it just the same.

October 26, 2018

 Preston sat at his desk looking at the new house across the street. He frowned at how it tried to look like an old farmhouse but missed the mark. Something in the proportions not right. But he also frowned for what the house represented to him: Samuel Curtis Van Irving. The boy who had come to be his tormentor along with his side kick, Jack McCullough. The class bullies that had graduated from tormenting Tyler to tormenting him. The taunts came to him whenever he thought of Curtis and Jack. Faggot. Cocksucker. Queer. Then there were the other taunts, more explicit in nature. Do you take it up the ass? Do you like sucking dick? Do have a pussy or a dick?

 Preston ignored them when he was able, just continuing down the corridor to his next class while others stood to the side smiling, laughing, or worse, looking away as if nothing was happening. The one thing that made it so difficult for Preston, was the taunts at their core were right. He was gay, had known so for a year. He had even told Richard and Elizabeth when they were home from college, then with them by his side, told their parents. It was something they kept amongst themselves, Richard saying the small community would be too judgmental, and it would be too much for someone still a kid in school. Preston knew his father’s intentions were good, but he wasn’t so sure if it was right. He had been tempted to take a swing at Curtis then tell him he was gay and what of it. But he pictured his mother’s concern and held back, never wanting to worry her.

The sun, now low in the western sky, shined across his desk illuminated his current experiment, one he had been doing for about a year. There were chemical elements and insects he had gorged on foods mixed with proteins and other organics, both meant to improve and enhance his black widow spiders. He had been feeding each new generation more and more of his concoctions and had recently started increasing the size of their prey. He wanted to see if he could speed up the spider’s evolution, make them stronger, more poisonous, and if possible, make them bigger. He had books on the species that had he had read several times, the pages marked and underlined. He had books on evolution and cases where it was accelerated, like the domesticating of foxes in Russia. Then there were books on nutrition and some on the effects of chemicals on a body and how some were beneficial.

Voices across the street and Preston looked up to see Curtis and Jack heading toward the Camaro in the drive, both dressed in costumes. It was Friday night and one of their classmates was having a party. Preston had been invited but lied, telling them he had to stay home tonight. The last thing he wanted to do was dress up in a silly costume, like the zombies he saw climbing into the Camaro, and no doubt find himself the target of their taunts. He was only fourteen while everyone going to the party were fifteen or sixteen, starting to date and in the case of a few, have sex.

Sex.

It was something he thought of often and late at night to the point of exhaustion.

“Preston, dinner’s ready,” came his mother’s voice up the stair.

Preston pushed back from his desk, shut off the lamp, and headed down for dinner.

October 31, 2020

 Preston stood at his mirror looking at his costume. He got his mother to help him with it, and he knew it turned out well. He just wasn’t sure he should go out in it. He looked at the wild gray wig and the lab coat, seeing how he was dressed as Einstein, one of the most recognizable figures in science. He still couldn’t believe he agreed to go, but over the last two years he had formed close friendships with a couple of the girls and the guy who had moved to their school last winter. He still felt like a kid compared to the others, but he was sixteen and had his driver’s license, and down in the drive a three-year-old Toyota 4Runner from his parents. The problem was everyone else was seventeen and it felt like they were closer to being adults than he, even if he was a senior too.

But he knew why he agreed, and it wasn’t for Maria’s pleading for him to come. It was because of Wyatt Jameson, the new boy in their class.

Wyatt. Preston tried not to think of him like he did, but he couldn’t stop himself. He felt his sexuality like never before when Wyatt walked into their classroom last winter and ever since, he found himself trying to get to know him. He knew it was futile, for Wyatt was dating Angela, and it was the four of them that hung out together at school and on weekends. But he couldn’t stop imagining it was he that Wyatt would hold hands with or sneak a kiss when he thought no one was looking. Wyatt was tall, lanky, and had a midwestern accent that captured his ear.

Preston stepped back from the mirror and checked his watch. It was still early but with darkness descending he knew the time to leave was drawing near. He sat at his desk looking at his latest concoction for the spiders. Their behaviors were changing, and he kept changing their diet to reflect the changes he was seeing. There were several he had been notating in his journals. They were increasing in size, the last generation now twice as big. They also seem to be gaining better eyesight, for they moved around to his movement in the room. And with the last three generations, he saw a decline in the cannibalism, resulting with a change in their interactions. It looked as if they were collaborating on the webs and setting up a perimeter in the cellar. He had been increasing the size of their prey and two weeks ago, he found a three-foot black snake wound up in webbing and when he tested them with mice from a pet shop, each one met a quick demise from a single bite.

Picking up the mixture, he went to the cage with white mice in it and watched them devour it. He knew it would take time for the mice to digest it and their systems to absorb what was within the mixture. When he got home, he would ease down into the cellar and give the spiders the mice.

The party was in the backyard of Steve’s house, with haybales scattered around to sit on and Halloween decorations hanging from tree limbs and across the rear porch. There had been a cookout, hamburgers, and hot dogs, then everyone settled around the yard in their usual groups.

Preston sat to the side of his little group, with Angela and Wyatt on one haybale in the middle and Maria on the other side in a camp chair. Preston tried to keep up with what his friends were saying but he was distracted. Over and over, he found himself looking over to group sitting behind Maria. Jeff, Garcia, Rachel, Ian, Annie, and Annie’s cousin visiting from Tennessee, Landon. It was the latter that captured Preston’s eye. The boy with jet black hair, fair white skin, and dark brown eyes. The boy who had spoken to him when they first arrived, and from time to time, he caught looking his way.

Preston knew he was infatuated with Landon. Drawn to this unknown with possibilities, but he also knew Landon was just a temptation. Landon’s family was visiting Annie’s family and come Monday would be heading back to Tennessee. But Preston couldn’t stop letting the temptation lure his eyes over to the boy stretched out in a camp chair, leaned back dressed in a toga revealing half his chest and those long legs. Preston had overheard Annie say it was the easiest and quickest costume they could do at the last minute; Landon’s family visit a last-minute thing. All he knew, the costume was perfect. He looked up the thighs into the dark recesses imagining what lay there.

The fire had burned down, and the music turned up when another vehicle pulled up front, its headlights shining down the drive before cutting off.

“Who is that?” someone asked Steve and Preston saw him shrug his shoulders.

Then they heard the voices, and Preston cringed. It was Curtis and Jack. Two dark silhouettes came around the house and into the firelight. They were slightly drunk and talking loudly, and once in the circle of light, they looked around at everyone, their eyes stopping on Preston.

“Oh, look Jack, the faggot is here too,” said Curtis.

“They invited that queer and not us.” Jack replied.

“Hey, guys cut it out,” said Steve.

“Shut it,” Curtis barked in reply, then turned back to Preston.

Preston didn’t know what made him do it. Maybe it was just time to stand up for himself. Or maybe he was just sick of it, the constant bullying. He stood up and moved around the fire until facing Curtis and Jack.

“Leave me alone.”

“Or what…faggot,” Curtis replied.

Curtis kept using that word, the one that burned to the very core of his being, and Preston took another step toward the two of them.

“Yes, Curtis, I’m gay, but your bullshit stops tonight.” Preston balled his fist up at his sides and waited for them to charge him. He didn’t know if he could take them both, but he had read self-defense books and thought he might have a chance, if he could land the first blow. He saw Jack flexing his hands into fist and Curtis laughing at his audacity, and he heard the silence from the others, thinking it a damning thing.

“Let’s kick his ass,” said Jack as he began to approach Preston, then both stepped back looking surprised.

Preston didn’t understand at first then he became aware of someone coming to his side. He glanced over and saw it was Landon.

“Why don’t we make it a fair fight,” Landon uttered with a tone of voice that sounded threatening.

“Let’s not; let’s make it an ass whipping,” came a voice to Preston’s right and he turned to see Steve step up next to him, then Wyatt.

“Fuck you,” Curtis exclaimed as Jack and he backed up until out of the firelight, then they took off for their car.

Preston watched them until they disappeared around the house, then he exhaled slowly.

“You okay?” asked Landon.

“Yes,” Preston replied, then he turned to Landon. “Thanks. I didn’t think anyone cared.”

“What are saying?” asked Steve coming around to face him. “Preston, of course some of us care. Man, you…just don’t get caught alone with those two, okay.”

Preston looked at Steve, then Wyatt behind him.

“Hey man, it’s okay, really,” said Steve putting a hand on Preston’s shoulder, a contact that spoke more than any words. “Look, it is good you finally came out.”

“You knew?” Preston asked in surprise, and he saw Wyatt look at Steve in surprise too and knew Wyatt had not realized.

“It was kind of obvious, if someone really paid attention,” Steve replied, “and besides, if I did have a problem with it, my sister would stomp my ass,” he jokingly added.

“Why?”

“Her best friend at State is gay.”

“Wyatt, you okay with Preston?” Steve asked as he turned to Wyatt.

“What? Yeah, of course,” Wyatt replied, then he turned to Preston. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“In this town?” Steve interjected, then he turned serious, facing Wyatt, “he has now.”

Preston stood in the cellar watching the mice get taken by the black widows. It was quick and soon each were neatly wrapped in webbing. But he wasn’t thinking of his experiment or the black widows, he was thinking about the party and how he had came out. How Landon, Steve, and Wyatt came to his side and afterward how most came to him, telling him it was okay, they supported him. Then his closest friends admonishing him for not telling them sooner, and Maria hugging him tightly at the end of the night telling him she loved him.

Upstairs the house was quiet, his parents turned in before he got home. Tomorrow would be a new day and Preston knew things would be better since he no longer had to hide who he was from his friends.

February 4, 2022

Preston rushed across campus, running late for his first class of the day. It was spring semester and he found himself no longer thinking of himself as a kid who was out of his element at the university. Fall semester had been tough. Not the classes for he breezed through those, but the living on campus in the dorm with guys a year older, each appearing to be more mature. But he knew it wasn’t true and being only a year younger wasn’t the big difference he imagined.

He smiled at the fact he was now eighteen, thankful for a birthday so early in the year. He was eighteen, and it seemed like he had finally crossed an important threshold. He still had days when he felt lonely, afraid of being within his own skin. He saw some gay guys on campus, holding hands or sitting together with the touch of a hand or a bump of shoulders. He longed for the experience but being seventeen, a year younger he really thought no one could possibly be interested in him. But he was eighteen now, and he imagined meeting a guy. Maybe he would flirt with the guy in his English class, the one that he caught looking his way for than once. Or maybe that guy he saw in the cafeteria who always ate alone, reading a novel spread out next to his tray. Or maybe he would go on one of the websites and take a chance on a blind date. There were lots of guys on campus looking to hook up or just meet someone.

Preston rushed up the stair, running about ten minutes late, when he looked up one run to see someone standing on the landing blocking his way.

“Preston?”

The voice brought him up short and he stopped on the stair and looked up to see Landon staring down.

“Landon?”

Landon laughed, shaking his head. “You’ve been here on campus and we’re just now running into each other?”

“Preston smiled, moving up to stand on the landing with him. “It is a big campus.”

“It is, but…damn, I can’t believe it. How have you been?”

“Good.”

“No problems after that Halloween party?”

“Nope. It seems that Curtis and Jack didn’t like the odds stacked against them.”

“I bet. Bullies really are just cowards. Are you heading to a class?”

“I was but I’m so late I’m thinking of just skipping today.”

“Want to go grab some breakfast with me? I have an early class and can never get up soon enough to eat before it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Preston followed Landon to his dorm. They had had breakfast talking about life on campus and their classes, then filling in more about themselves, Preston the youngest of three and Landon the middle child of three. Then Landon had asked Preston if he was seeing anyone. It had been a moment Preston wondered if Landon would say he was doing so. He had felt almost breathless when he said no, that being a year younger seemed a bit of a barrier. Then he confessed he was eighteen and felt different, leaving out that his birthday had just passed. Then he had waited for Landon to reply. He pictured the smile, then a soft chuckle as Landon had leaned closer, admitting he was still single. Then the question Preston had dreamed of, the one he had waited for from a guy.

“You want to go out…with me?”

“Yes, I do.”

Then there had been an awkward moment, one where Landon leaned back and just stared across the table. Preston had felt it, some tension, sexual in nature, and he couldn’t stand it, not another minute. He leaned forward and saw Landon focus on him, an eye contact that he knew would blur out their surroundings.

“Landon, you want to, maybe, blow off classes for the day and, I don’t know, maybe, like hang out together?”

Landon smiled, sat up leaning closer.

“I was wondering the same thing. You want to go back to my dorm? My roommate will be in classes until two.”

Preston followed Landon into the dark dorm room, the only light filtering through the blinds. Suddenly there was no pretense of why they were there. No lying about coming to the dorm room to talk about classes or books or to listen to music. Landon set his backpack on his desk and reached out for Preston to hand him his backpack.

“Can we just-“

“Yes,” Preston blurted out.

Landon moved to Preston, and they kissed. Then hands roamed over bodies, touching, caressing, and feeling. They grew aroused and began to breathe harder, and hands moved to growing cocks, squeezing, and feeling them get hard within their confines.

“Fuck,” Landon whispered as he pulled back and began to undo the buttons on Preston’s shirt. Fingers fumbling and working frantically, one after the next slipped free. Then the shirt was slipped off and tossed over a chair.

Preston tried not to think of it, but he wondered how Landon would view him. He was lean, almost skinny in his mind, but he had been filling out the last few months and he hoped he looked good to Landon. He stared at the eyes roaming over his bare chest and stomach and saw the smile.

“Nice,” Landon whispered, then closed the distance between them until kissing once again.

Preston felt the tug and pull on his jeans, the loosening of them around his waist and he pulled back from Landon and removed his shoes, socks, then worked them free of his legs. He looked up to Landon tugging his t-shirt over his head revealing a body that was lean and muscular. He stood in tented boxer briefs and reached out grazing his fingers over the chest and stomach. A hand grabbed his, stopping him.

“I’m ticklish,” Landon whispered.

Preston smiled then helped Landon out of his jeans. He saw the boxers pushed outward by the hard cock. He reached for it, wrapping his hand around it as Landon took him in hand. They manipulated each other until both were gasping for breath.

Preston eased to his knees, thinking how he had fantasized about this moment for such a long time. He tugged the boxers down as he went, freeing Landon’s cock. It curved upward with an arrow shaped head, and he helped Landon step out of the boxers and tossed them carelessly to the side. Then he took that hard cock around the base and kissed the head, licked it, then put it into his mouth. Awkwardly, struggling to find his rhythm, he moved on Landon’s cock. Pushed forward, then pulled back, lips tight around the shaft. But he was hungry for it, starved for the pleasure of another man’s cock, and he increased his speed and found a rhythm.

“Fuck…Preston, suck me,” Landon uttered.

Preston sucked, tongued, and licked Landon’s cock. He worked his mouth on it until drool dripped down his chin and his suck became noisy. Then he pulled back and stood.

“Fuck me,” Preston whispered, taking Landon by the hand, and pulling him as he backed to the bed. When it hit the back of his legs, he lay back and held up his legs.

Landon took each leg behind the knee and pushed them apart and back until Preston’s ass lifted off the bed, spread wide before him. He rubbed his wet slick cock over it, pushed it up along the perineum until Preston was slick with it.

“Landon,” Preston uttered.

Landon knew what he wanted, and he put his cock to the tight little opening and pushed. It resisted and he pushed again until he could watch his cock squeeze through the tightness. He shuddered at the feel of it as he pushed into Preston. Inch after inch, he pushed slowly until over halfway inside of him. Then he began to fuck.

Landon fucked Preston. Long slow strokes, sinking deeper and deeper until pushing against the spread ass. Then he increased his pace, fucked harder, body banging against body as Preston moaned and grunted. He didn’t care how loud it got. The squeaking bed, the moans and grunts from Preston and him, or the guttural cries from Preston, profane and demanding. Then he pulled out and maneuvered Preston around on the bed and to his stomach. He crawled on top, pushed the legs together and sank into Preston’s ass. He bearhugged him and moved with a lust he had not felt before. His ass flexed and moved with his fuck, and the contact between them was hot, and soon slick with sweat.

Preston savored the fullness of penetration. The way Landon bore into his body. He moved beneath him, undulating his body to increase his pleasure. Pushing his ass upward to take Landon as deeply as possible. He couldn’t help it. He grew noisy again.

“Fuck me…fuck me…” Preston cried out until a hand covered his mouth.

Preston took every thrust, feeling Landon grew more physical, fucking with greater speed. Then he felt the hard push into his depths and how Landon kept pushing, trying to go deeper. Then Landon was shaking and shuddering, and he knew he took Landon’s load.

Landon pulled out and Preston found himself pulled to roll over. He fell to his back with a cock aching for release. The head was wet and drooling. He watched Landon move over him, take his cock and ease down on it. Inch after inch disappeared into him until fully seated on it.

“Fuck, that feels good,” Landon uttered.

“Yeah,” Preston uttered as he took each ankle and held on.

Preston began to move, up, then down. Faster and faster, until fucking his ass on Preston’s cock. He leaned back and worked his ass up and down at a brutal pace, slamming down on Preston, roughly, skin smacking against skin.

“Come on, Preston. Pump that shit in me,” Landon uttered as he threw his head back and kept working his ass up and down.

“FUCK!” Preston cried out, shoved upward, and came. He shuddered and shoved upward with every ejaculation until spent.

They lay naked until after noon when their stomachs growled with hunger. They showered, dressed, and headed out for the pizza joint on campus.

For the remainder of the semester, they fell into the routine of dating, of sex when one or the other’s roommate was out, or when away for a weekend, rare occasions, they slept with each other. When the semester ended, they made plans to get together, a hike in the mountains and a weekend at the beach, otherwise it was a long-distance romance.

October 29, 2022

Preston came out of the cellar shocked at some of the changes that had occurred over summer and in the last two months. The latest generation was even larger, bodies nearly two inches long, and it was obvious their eyesight was much improved. Then there was the collaborative way they built webs and set up places to wait. But what troubled Preston was the reduced numbers. He wondered if cannibalism had returned to their natures, but he saw no evidence of it. A third of the black widows were gone and he worried about them getting out and what havoc they could wrought if loose.

Upstairs he heard the shower running and smiled mischievously for it was Landon who had come home with him for the Halloween weekend. There was a party at Steve’s for those who still lived in the area or those who could make the trip. What made the weekend even better was his parents had left that morning for Atlanta. It meant Landon and he would not have any intrusions. He eased up the stair and down the hall to the bathroom finding the door conveniently cracked open. He entered and saw Landon within the shower, white suds cascading down his body.

Preston removed his t-shirt, dropped his shorts and boxers, stepping out of them, and eased into the shower with Landon. They soaped each other, caressed slick skin, and fondled cocks. They kissed, then laughed.

“Let’s get out and go to my room,” said Preston.

Preston led Landon to his room, pulling him to his bed. He crawled on it on hands and knees and looked over his shoulder.

“Come on, do it. Fuck me.”

Soon the bed squeaked and rocked with their fuck. Landon pushing into Preston’s depths until bodies smacked together. They fucked until sweating and gasping for breath, and Landon pulled out, cock so hard it flexed with his arousal.

“Roll over,” uttered Landon.

Preston on his back, Landon moved over him, sinking into his depths. Soon their fuck became physical once again. Bed rocking and squeaking, and the two of them moaning and grunting and uttering words of encouragement.

They didn’t hear the back door open, or the foot falls on the treads of the stair. The bedroom door swung open and neither heard it. Then there was the accusation, the foul utterance by Curtis with Jack laughing behind him.

“Goddamn faggots.”

Landon froze and they looked around to see Curtis and Jack coming into the room.

“Get out,” Preston yelled, and he and Landon tried to disentangle and get up to defend themselves.

It was too late, and suddenly Jack was dragging Landon from the bed and across the room. He held Landon around the neck so tight it was hard for him to breathe.

Preston had no time to react. Curtis was on him, sitting on his chest with arms pinned under each leg. A slap in the face, then another.

“What are you going to do now, faggot?”

“Get off of me,” Preston uttered fighting to maintain control of himself.

Curtis put his hands around Preston’s neck and began to choke him.

“Let him go,” Landon gasped.

“You are disgusting,” Curtis uttered as he held Preston down, choking him until his face was turning red.

Preston didn’t know how long he could take it. He struggled beneath Curtis, trying to throw him off. Then he saw them. Two, then three, finally four large black widows descending by a thread. They slowly rotated as they descended from a hole in the ceiling.

“Curtis…Curtis!” Jack exclaimed, then he was pushing Landon away and slapping at his head and shoulders. When he turned a large black widow was on his back. It sank it fangs into Jack at the base of the neck.

Curtis turned in time to see the black widow bite Jack, then he was jumping off the bed and slapping at his back and shoulders. There were two black widows on his back, and one sank fangs into his back right at the spine. Curtis cried out, shuddered, then began to move slowly, as if in a different time. The other black widow moved up to his neck and bit into the artery.

Jack dropped to the floor shuddering and jerking. Curtis collapsed, falling on his back with eyes rolled into the back of his head.

“What the fuck? Where did those spiders come from?” asked Landon as he backed toward the door.

“The attic,” Preston uttered, suddenly realizing where the missing black widows had disappeared. He climbed to his feet and watched them move in front of him in a row. He stood still not sure what to expect. Then one by one, the spiders went to the nearest wall, climbed upward and at the ceiling, they crawled through the opening and disappeared.

“Fuck,” Preston uttered at the realization the black widows had defended him, probably considering him a source for food. “Landon, get dressed and call an ambulance.”

Preston and Landon stood in the front yard as Curtis and Jack were wheeled out to the two ambulances. Two police officers were still trying to understand what had happened. Preston repeated how Landon and he were in his room when Curtis and Jack broke in and attacked them. Then he lied, one Landon agreed to after being told about his experiment and how he had to deal with it for it would be dangerous for the police to go into the attic or cellar.

“I don’t know what happened next, but they were slapping at their necks, shoulders, and backs like something was biting them.”

“Something did bite them!” one officer exclaimed. “Did you not see those huge bite marks? Are you telling us you didn’t see what made them?”

“No? Could it be a snake?”

“Yes, but I think you should have seen it.”

“We were distracted by the attack,” Landon interjected. We had been having sex and were in a vulnerable position when they showed up.”

“You two were having sex?” the officer asked.

Preston had hoped to leave out that part, but he saw how it gave them cover.

“Yes sir, we were.”

Preston and Landon sat in the living room watching the local news coverage out of Montgomery cover the incident. How two boys were bitten by a snake and were both in a coma. Nothing the doctors tried would bring them out of it.

“Shit, Preston, you have to do something with those spiders,” said Landon.

“I know. I can’t believe…it was just an experiment.”

“I’ll help and we-“

“No. You can’t help with this. If one of them bit you I’d never forgive myself. I know how to handle them. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take you back to the university tomorrow and come back before mom and dad return. I’ll probably be able to take care of it Monday and be back on campus that night.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Preston moved away from the cave and looked back expecting to see the black widows coming out to follow him. He had led Landon to believe he was going to kill them, but he couldn’t do it. They had protected him, and it was his fault for changing them. Everything within told him to kill them, but in the end, he relocated them to this small cave, one he had stumbled upon years before when trying to take a short cut through the woods. He knew it was dangerous, leaving such a predator in the wild, but he hoped the isolated area gave them a place to live and avoid contact with people.

October 31, 2023

 They ran along the creek, at times running within its shallow sections, until deep into the woodlands. They had escaped from the correctional facility outside Clio, stealing a truck and heading west. They had made it just past Luverne when the truck broke down. Ditched into the woods by the road, they took off on foot, thinking it would be safer for a couple of days to keep in the woods.

Clint had taken the chance; attacking a guard and gaining passage through one of the security checkpoints. Mitch has seized the opportunity to follow him, and now the two of them were trying to get to the west and down into Mexico. Clint just knew if they could get down there one of the drug cartels would be happy to give them a job.

The next morning after ditching the truck, they woke to sirens and the sound of dogs barking. It was to their south, and Clint led them northwest, putting as much distance as he could between them.

“We need to get some wheels,” Mitch complained again.

“We will, but not until we get a little further away. The cops will have roadblocks set up in a perimeter around the place we left the truck. We just need to get beyond it then find something.

“Well, it’s getting late and I’m exhausted. Can we stop for the night?”

“I think so. Let’s get up above this creek to higher ground and we’ll stop.”

Clint found a small clearing just below a rock outcropping. He cleared out an area to build a fire waiting for it to get dark before lighting it. He wanted the darkness to conceal the smoke. They pulled out the jerky and small bags of peanuts they had stolen from a delivery truck at a convenience store and tried to settle down for the night.

Once it was dark, Mitch moved to the pile of wood ready for burning.

“Can I light it?” Mitch asked, sounding like a kid wanting to play in fire.

“Sure, but let’s not let it burn too brightly.”

The wood caught and soon flames rose over the wood. Once it gave off heat, Clint, then Mitch settled down near it. They drifted off into a fretful sleep.

At the base of the rock outcropping, neither saw the small cave with webbing around its perimeter. But in the light of the fire at its mouth, eyes glittered. One group, then another, and soon the mouth of the cave seen to be nothing but eyes.

A black widow emerged, then another. They were as big as a man’s fist. They moved toward the two men, slowly, stopping whenever one made a noise. They moved quietly over the leaf litter and limbs until next to them. Mitch lay on his side facing the fire and Clint lay on his back. One black widow moved to Clint, eased up on his chest.

Mitch woke, and he looked across the fire to make sure Clint had not left him. He just knew Clint would ditch him somewhere. He struggled to make sense of what he was seeing in the firelight, then he gasped. He sat up and cried out.

“Clint! Wake up,” Mitch exclaimed.

Clint opened his eyes in time to see the large black widow sink her fangs into his chest right above his heart. He tried to slap it off, to sit up, and get away, but it was almost instantaneous. He was paralyzed. Then his breathing became difficult, and his vision got blurry. He heard Mitch scream and turned his eyes seeing Mitch stumbling around, slapping at his back. When Mitch turned, he saw a large spider on his back, fangs sunk into the spine. He was losing consciousness and as his eyes began to close, he saw Mitch stumble, utter a weak pitiful whimper, then fall into the fire.

Two weeks later, Preston heard the news reports of how two prisoners got away from the police somewhere near Blackridge. He had heard about the escape but paid little attention to it until the reference to Blackridge. He turned up the volume as the police gave a report of finding some food packaging in the woods near Piney Wood Creek, but the men were long gone. It was believed the two convicts were heading west in the hopes of making it to Mexico. After ten days, there was speculation they could have made it.

But Preston knew they had not done so. He saw the map where the truck had been ditched, and where food packaging had been discovered, and he knew the two men had stumbled too close to that small cave. He just hoped none of the search party found the cave and tried to explore it.