Post by Kirihito Arachne on Feb 8, 2005 16:32:28 GMT -5
She nearly flew up the stairs of the huge stone building, not even hearing the echoes of her feet against the steps for her ears were full of the pounding of her heart in her chest, racing like a drum roll in a festival procession. Ninety-two steps to the heavy mahogany doors. Her excitement was almost uncontainable. A slight hand grasped the wrought iron handle and with a good yank, pulled the door free and stumbled inside.
Much to her surprise the great ballroom was empty, dark and still. Puzzled, her eyes searched the twilight cast dancehall for the person that had been the cause of her rapture. When she had first met Professor Arachne she had been immediately enchanted by the lithe framed man with the natural tan and the poetic manner of speech. Her ballroom instructor was, in her fanciful imagination, the elegant artist that she had thought had gone the way of the dragons. Her mind had been filled of daydreams of them dancing the poetry falling from his lips as they twirled around the polished hardwood floor, and when he had met her request with a small smile and an agreement to meet her after her night physics class for some extra practice, she had struggled with herself not to dance and shout with glee. What a Valentine’s Day treat!
Stepping further into the darkened room worry was growing in her. Had he forgotten? Did she have the wrong day or time? Or worse- was he late because of some horrible accident or misadventure? She caught her breath and scolded herself for even daring to think of such things. Maybe he was simply fetching the lamp oil that would light up the practice floor.
“Professor Arachne?” The voice of a girl turned almost woman reverberated off the walls of the ballroom. There was o answer. A few more steps taken into the hall intending on checking the back room had her stop in her tracks. There was a quiet squish sound beneath her shoes and as she looked down she realized she was most literally stuck to the ground. A strange, white stringy substance had fastened her soles securely to the stone, and with a sigh and a roll of the eyes she began trying to loose herself from whatever she had stepped in.
At first she didn’t even notice the tickle on the side of her neck as eight furry legs crept silently across her pale skin. It was not until the arachnid sank its deadly fangs into her soft flesh that she realized something was horribly wrong.
One. Two. Three seconds of silence.
The sound of shoes on rock was heard behind her, though her balance was already deteriorating so she could only guess that was where the noise was coming from. Twisting ungracefully she saw in a blurry line of vision a figure bending over to remove a pair of finely polished dancing shoes.
Four. Five.
Succumbing to dizziness she felt herself fall only to be caught in the arms of the mysterious figure. “Welcome to my parlor.” Said a voice with a bemused chuckle. She would have answered if her lips and face had not already gone numb.
Ten. Twelve,
Seconds seemed like hours. “Shh.” Soothed the voice as a hand brushed against her collarbone to lift the small spider off her body. “Don’t fight it my dear Marie, it will only make things worse.
Fifteen.
One by one she felt each muscle contract in agonizing pain, but no matter how loud she screamed in her head she could not even so much as move her tongue to whisper to this strange man. Vision was blurring and even the constricting feeling of the arms around her was fading quickly. “The spider’s poison is very fast. Soon your heart will begin to slow and your lungs will fill with fluid. Then, a few seconds later, your brain will suffocate. Isn’t it amazing how the smallest of creatures can bring down any of us?” crooned the increasingly familiar sounding voice, though as delirious as she was, nothing was sure.
Twenty.
Lungs could no longer take in air. It felt as if she were drowning and no matter how hard she tried to breath the muscles wouldn’t contract and there was no room in her for the air. The feeling faded entirely from her limbs as blood began pooling in her lungs. Her gurgles and small gasps were the only physical display of the screams for help on the inside as she quickly began to choke on her own blood. As her last breath was burbled the figure leaned over her. The last thing she saw was an eerily pleasant smile and the flash of animal eyeshine in a pair of slate gray eyes.
Thirty seconds. Right on time.
~~~
He nights were so pleasant here, Kirihito thought to himself as he sat in his little home on Invernis, enjoying his last meal of the day. The utensils were a bit dull but they had no problem cutting through the red, oozing meat that was his main course. Kirihito smiled as he took another bite of the tender almost raw meat. He savored his dish, sautéed over onions and asparagus, it was a well favored –however rare- treat for him. He found it ironic that no matter what walk of life one was from, this precious thing on his plate was so very much valued. So much so that humans built entire holidays around it and poems to sing its praises. They would never understand its true delicacy.
Bringing a napkin up to dab the dribble of red running from the corner of his mouth his eyes slid to his present company. There beside him against the far wall… he watched five brown spiders crawl over a mostly webbed cocoon, feeding as their master bade them. From within the webbing a gnarled hand, fingers splayed in agony and fear, protruded. Kirihito shook his head and turned back to his meal as the spiders did theirs. “A pity, really.” He remarked to them between bites, “She would have made a wonderful dancer.”<br>
Much to her surprise the great ballroom was empty, dark and still. Puzzled, her eyes searched the twilight cast dancehall for the person that had been the cause of her rapture. When she had first met Professor Arachne she had been immediately enchanted by the lithe framed man with the natural tan and the poetic manner of speech. Her ballroom instructor was, in her fanciful imagination, the elegant artist that she had thought had gone the way of the dragons. Her mind had been filled of daydreams of them dancing the poetry falling from his lips as they twirled around the polished hardwood floor, and when he had met her request with a small smile and an agreement to meet her after her night physics class for some extra practice, she had struggled with herself not to dance and shout with glee. What a Valentine’s Day treat!
Stepping further into the darkened room worry was growing in her. Had he forgotten? Did she have the wrong day or time? Or worse- was he late because of some horrible accident or misadventure? She caught her breath and scolded herself for even daring to think of such things. Maybe he was simply fetching the lamp oil that would light up the practice floor.
“Professor Arachne?” The voice of a girl turned almost woman reverberated off the walls of the ballroom. There was o answer. A few more steps taken into the hall intending on checking the back room had her stop in her tracks. There was a quiet squish sound beneath her shoes and as she looked down she realized she was most literally stuck to the ground. A strange, white stringy substance had fastened her soles securely to the stone, and with a sigh and a roll of the eyes she began trying to loose herself from whatever she had stepped in.
At first she didn’t even notice the tickle on the side of her neck as eight furry legs crept silently across her pale skin. It was not until the arachnid sank its deadly fangs into her soft flesh that she realized something was horribly wrong.
One. Two. Three seconds of silence.
The sound of shoes on rock was heard behind her, though her balance was already deteriorating so she could only guess that was where the noise was coming from. Twisting ungracefully she saw in a blurry line of vision a figure bending over to remove a pair of finely polished dancing shoes.
Four. Five.
Succumbing to dizziness she felt herself fall only to be caught in the arms of the mysterious figure. “Welcome to my parlor.” Said a voice with a bemused chuckle. She would have answered if her lips and face had not already gone numb.
Ten. Twelve,
Seconds seemed like hours. “Shh.” Soothed the voice as a hand brushed against her collarbone to lift the small spider off her body. “Don’t fight it my dear Marie, it will only make things worse.
Fifteen.
One by one she felt each muscle contract in agonizing pain, but no matter how loud she screamed in her head she could not even so much as move her tongue to whisper to this strange man. Vision was blurring and even the constricting feeling of the arms around her was fading quickly. “The spider’s poison is very fast. Soon your heart will begin to slow and your lungs will fill with fluid. Then, a few seconds later, your brain will suffocate. Isn’t it amazing how the smallest of creatures can bring down any of us?” crooned the increasingly familiar sounding voice, though as delirious as she was, nothing was sure.
Twenty.
Lungs could no longer take in air. It felt as if she were drowning and no matter how hard she tried to breath the muscles wouldn’t contract and there was no room in her for the air. The feeling faded entirely from her limbs as blood began pooling in her lungs. Her gurgles and small gasps were the only physical display of the screams for help on the inside as she quickly began to choke on her own blood. As her last breath was burbled the figure leaned over her. The last thing she saw was an eerily pleasant smile and the flash of animal eyeshine in a pair of slate gray eyes.
Thirty seconds. Right on time.
~~~
He nights were so pleasant here, Kirihito thought to himself as he sat in his little home on Invernis, enjoying his last meal of the day. The utensils were a bit dull but they had no problem cutting through the red, oozing meat that was his main course. Kirihito smiled as he took another bite of the tender almost raw meat. He savored his dish, sautéed over onions and asparagus, it was a well favored –however rare- treat for him. He found it ironic that no matter what walk of life one was from, this precious thing on his plate was so very much valued. So much so that humans built entire holidays around it and poems to sing its praises. They would never understand its true delicacy.
Bringing a napkin up to dab the dribble of red running from the corner of his mouth his eyes slid to his present company. There beside him against the far wall… he watched five brown spiders crawl over a mostly webbed cocoon, feeding as their master bade them. From within the webbing a gnarled hand, fingers splayed in agony and fear, protruded. Kirihito shook his head and turned back to his meal as the spiders did theirs. “A pity, really.” He remarked to them between bites, “She would have made a wonderful dancer.”<br>