SKITTER SCATTER

SKITTER SCATTER

“How did I get here?”
Thin strands surround my body and spread out in every direction into the dark corners of this place. Dangling in the air, I’m partially wrapped in a thick mass of white threads. Above me, I can see the stars of night flickering as jewels on a black blanket. Below me, I can hear the constant clicking sound of what has placed me in this cocoon. The skitter-scatter of movement that sounds like little feet running through dry leaves. My eyes are heavy as if I’ve been drugged and they are unable to focus. I can smell decayed meat drifting from someplace below me. My face itches, but my arms and hands will not budge from my entrapment. How long have I been here? My memory begins to bring back flashes of what occurred as I doze off into a state of semi-consciousness.
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It was near sunset when I stepped out of my old Ford Taurus. I drove here to meet some friends who told me of this bar that had all these great looking woman in it. From the outside, it looked like an old run down hellhole excuse for a brick building. A large storefront window had a hand-painted sign splattered on the front, declaring it as Buzzards Bar.
I reached for the brass handle on the door and yanked it open. The smell of spilt beer and cigarette smoke entered my nostrils as it tried to escape the building. The narrow hallway led to a burly looking man sitting on the edge of a barstool.
“Need to see some I.D.,” he demanded.
I took out my wallet and handed the man my driver’s license. The bouncer used a pen light while squinting at the date. Without saying a word to me, he returned my license and let me pass.
People were packed into the place, every booth and barstool appeared to be occupied. The chatter of voices filled the room as I passed a jukebox that belted out “Honky Tonk Women” by the Stones. I searched the aged booths, looking for my friends.
“Dave, over here,” a voice called out.
I turned and saw that it was Brandon. Brandon was a tall guy with long blond hair. He was one of those guys that looked like he had just gotten off his surfboard after hours of swimming in the ocean. A cigarette dangled from his lips. His eyes drooped, giving him the appearance that he was already stoned or nearly there.
“Man, we were about to give up on yah. Where have you been?”
“Ah nowhere, just took me longer to get here than I thought.”
“You’re missing some great looking pussy, man. Grab a glass,” Mike said, staring across the tables at two girls.
I slid into the booth, grabbed a glass, and poured myself a beer from the pitcher. Two girls huddled together in a booth were taking turns sneaking peeks at him and giggling. I returned my gaze to Mike whose tongue hung out of his blemished face. His black wiry hair was spiked out in every direction. He couldn’t turn away from the twosome.
“Come on, they look pretty young,” I said.
“No way, look at that blonde, she’s giving me the look over.”
“Whatever, they probably think you’re some kind of freak,” Brandon said, refilling his glass.
“Nah, she wants me,” Mike answered.
“Are you guys going to make it to the backpacking outing Sunday?” I asked.
“Shit, I forgot about that. Where were we supposed to meet?” Brandon asked.
“Hazel woods, remember we’re going to do some rock climbing on the cliffs.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I definitely plan on being there.”
“How about you, Mike?”
Mike didn’t answer but continued to stare at the two girls.
“Forget about him man. All he thinks about is getting laid.”
A blast over a microphone came from the front stage, and turned everyone’s attention toward it.
“All right you mother fuckers. Are you ready to party?”
A loud chorus of “yes” filled the air.
The band ripped into an ear-splitting twang that sent spikes of concussions into everybody’s spines. From that point on, I began to fade. Conversations became yelling matches, and the only way to communicate was by reading lips. My glass of beer never seemed empty as I drank and turned away only to discover that someone had filled it again. The golden liquid poured down my throat, but it seemed I would never be able to quench my thirst.
As if the beer wasn’t enough, little shot glasses began to appear on the table. Downing shots of rum, whiskey, and schnapps, made my head become a whirling ride on a merry-go-round. My mind began to wander in and out as if I was looking at bits and pieces of an old film.
I looked onto the dance floor and saw Mike and Brandon dancing with the two girls from the booth. The flashes of light from the stage exposed the girl’s gothic romantic dance. Their shapely bodies hypnotized my eyes as they flowed to each beat from the music. It was not that they were dressed any different then the other girls, but the deep shadow hidden in their eyes seemed to cause the allure.
The girl that danced with Mike caught my gaze and smiled at me. Her long black hair shimmied from one side to the other. Her smile startled me and I swore I saw rows of jagged teeth behind it. I laughed at the nonsense and finished another glass of beer.
“Dave are you all right?” Brandon asked.
“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. This booze is really knocking me out.”
“You need to get up and dance with someone,” Brandon said, sliding into the booth. Brandon and his new blond friend quickly began fondling each other. Their lips and tongues suckling every part of exposed skin. Their hands reaching into each other’s pleasure points. It made me want to join in.
I searched the dance floor looking for a girl for myself. A cute-looking girl appeared to be sitting in a booth alone and I staggered toward her. Trying to reach her was no easy task. Not only did my body fail to walk in a straight line; I had to sidestep the maze of dancers on the floor. Just before I reached the table, a guy that looked like a lineman from the local football team sat down next to the girl. I stood beside the table and the man looked me over and finally asked, “What the fuck do you want?” I turned and found my way to the bathroom. The bathroom reeked of puke and the stench nearly made me lose the contents of my rolling stomach. I waded to the urinal and managed to compose myself.
I came back from the bathroom and returned to my table to find the brunette sitting alone. I had no idea where Mike could have been but Brandon and the blonde were still engaged in investigating each other’s bodies. The brunette’s beautiful eyes drew me in.
“Come over here. I need you to satisfy my body,” she demanded without moving her lips. At first I hesitated but I could not resist the temptation and I slipped in next to her. My tongue licked her pulsating neck, as her hand found the zipper of my jeans. My lips found hers and the instant taste of peppermint tickled my tongue. Her mouth opened and suddenly I felt I was being sucked inside of her. I couldn’t pull my lips away. Again I heard her voice, “I have you now. There’s no way out.”
“Man, I can’t leave to take a piss without you trying to claim my booty,” Mike yelled.
I managed to pull away from her grip only to fall to the floor in my drunken stupor. Mike took my place and before he overwhelmed her body she gave me a sly smile. I was stunned by what happened. Had I actually heard her say that or was the booze playing tricks with my mind? There’s something not quite right about these two girls. I found a barstool to sit on at the bar and ordered another beer. Thoughts about leaving for home entered my mind.
I succumbed into a foggy sleep only to wake in the back seat of a cargo van, bouncing along at a high speed. I couldn’t remember how I got there or even leaving the bar. I gazed out the oval window to see rows of corn blur by in a moonlit sky. The van made a sudden turn, throwing rocks in a spray toward the ditch. The blond girl was driving with Brandon slumped in the shotgun seat. Mike and the other girl were behind me in a bench seat. I could hear their moans of pleasure as they embraced each other. The van came to a stop at a paint-chipped farmhouse. I fell out the side door and after I picked myself up, laughing, we all staggered toward the house. I turned to look at the barn that was a short distance up the drive. Beyond it, a tall wooden tower rose in the silence of the field. Perhaps it was a silo, but it looked like an old windmill neglected from an age gone by.
Upon entering the house, the girls opened the refrigerator and poured out more beverages for us to consume. I at once thought that this was entirely unnecessary in my condition, but it did not stop me from picking up the glass and downing the contents. I felt the burning sensation enter my throat and the temperature in the room seemed to immediately rise. Shortly afterwards, I passed out. My memory faded into an intoxicating nightmare of sounds and dreams. I heard the constant beat of a drum that vibrated like a heartbeat as I wandered in a cavernous maze that led me to one dead end after another.
I awoke to Brandon’s screams. I found myself face down on the floor. A single strand of saliva ran from my lips to the patchy design on the carpeted floor.
“Dave, help me!” Brandon called from somewhere in the house.
I pushed myself up to my knees. My head swirled in a thousand directions, but I could tell that Brandon was suffering from the tone of his plea. I stood and staggered to the sounds of his whimpering voice. I pushed open the door that I was sure contained Brandon’s howling. The room was dark and all I could see were silhouettes joined together on a large bed. I found the light switch and turned it on. I gasped at the sight. The once beautiful blond lay on her back. Her face had become a quagmire of cracks and broken blisters. Blood had splattered across her face and now dripped down from the headboard.
“Dave, my God she’s eating me alive. I can’t pull out of her.”
I stared at Brandon agape; he was being pulled inside of the creature’s vagina. Where the creature’s vagina should have been appeared to be a mouth full of carnivorous teeth. They were slowly devouring Brandon’s body as he was being pulled inside. I grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him away. A large pool of blood had formed on the bed sheets below their connected bodies. She let out a hiss, and what appeared to be an insect appendage hit me along side of the head. The blow knocked me to the floor and I heard Brandon let out a guttural scream.
I ran out of the room, hoping to find Mike and get help. In the darkness I tripped over a coffee table in what must have been the living room. As I got up to my knees, the light came on from a lamp by the sofa. There on the sofa was the other girl, and between her legs, I could see Mike’s head jutting out from her vaginal mouth. His eyeballs were about to pop from their sockets. His lips formed in an open howl across his pale-lifeless face. The woman gazed at me and smiled wickedly. Sections of the skin from her forehead were slowly melting away revealing some hideous creature beneath it. She belted out a laughing hiss as she struck me in the face. I collapsed to the floor and passed out.
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My God, did I dream this? In my drunken stupor did I imagine everything that happened? It had to have happened. It was all too vivid... too real... My friends were killed. They were eaten alive by those nightmarish creatures. Now I’m trapped in this place.
I try to move my legs, but they are tightly bound in the silk-like rope. My movements begin to cause me to swing away from the nearby wall. Somehow, I need to escape before the two girls come back for me. The girls looked so good in the bar... they were sexy looking babes. How could this have happened? I knew something was wrong! Some how I could see them for what they were. I had to have been drugged...they had to have put something in my drink. I try to move my arms away from the side of my body. It feels as though I’m making some progress.
All my movements cause some commotion below me. I can hear chattering noises as though someone is whispering a conversation.
“He’s awake.”
“Bring him down.”
Then, as if I’m dangled from a pulley, I begin to be lowered to the ground. I worry about what I will see when I reach the bottom. Will they eat me right on the spot? No one is around when I reach the floor, but moments later from a dark corner of the room the two girls appear.
“Good morning, Dave! Did you sleep well?” the brunette asked.
“What are you going to do to me? Where’s Mike and Brandon?” I nervously asked. A definite fearful sound came from my voice. My hands were clenched into fists as I search for away to take advantage of the situation. The two girls look the same as they did in the bar last night with one noticeable difference. Their stomachs obviously are bulging from under their long robes.
“Mike and Brandon are gone, Dave. Don’t pretend to not know what happened,” the blond said.
“Yes, you saw what was going on. You’re trapped here and we’re saving you for a little surprise later,” the brunette said. Her eyes roll in her head as she speaks.
“Oh yes, you boys were such easy prey. Have a few drinks and your lust for sex takes over,” the blond said.
“The person who said that men are led by their dicks couldn’t have been any more true,” the brunette said. A squealing laugh bellows from her lips.
“Where did you come from? Why are you here?” I ask angrily, trying to convince myself that I can overtake both of them.
“We’ve always been here. For billions of years we’ve survived on what the Earth would provide for us, but your needs for raw materials has taken away our food supply and slowly we have evolved. We’ve crawled within the deep caverns of the earth just waiting for our time,” the blond answers.
“That time is now. The world is ripe with your kind to feed our hunger. There’s so many of you with lust in your hearts that our proliferation of the planet will easily consume all who walk the night seeking the company of a women,” the brunette said.
“You’re not going to take me,” I said, jumping toward them. As I grabbed the brunette an insect like appendage from the blond wraps around my legs and throws me to the ground.
“It’s too late. Take comfort in knowing that your friends were the first to give birth to our continuation and knowing that you’ll be next to spread our kind all over the world,” the blond said.
“I saw how you took Mike and Brandon. I will not fall for that lust. Not from either of you,” I said, pulling myself up to my knees and holding my stomach where I had been struck.
They both laugh. Their laughs fill the hollow emptiness of the windmill.
“We took your two friends and urged them to bring you along. We saved you for later because you were the strongest of the three and will furnish our needs later. At the other end of the building is a table filled with food and drink. Enjoy it. Don’t try to escape. There’s no way out,” the brunette said.
With that announcement, they slowly disappear into the darkness. As soon as they leave, the white strands that covered me shrivel away. I run into the dark corner where they had disappeared and find a door. It is tightly latched shut. I walk to the table. There I found the food that they spoke of. Fried chicken heaped inside of a basket, rolls and butter, steaming corn on the cob, and a bottle of wine all neatly displayed on the table. “Why are they doing this? This will only make me stronger.” Then the thoughts of maybe the food being tainted entered my mind. Maybe they’re trying to keep me drugged so I will be helpless to fight against them. I pondered this for a few minutes before my hunger overcame me and I began to eat.
After I could eat no more, I began to examine my prison. A ray of sunshine slashes through giving me enough light to view the inside of the old windmill. I walk along the inside edge looking for some way to climb out. The old boards have grayed in color but the surface has been lacquered to a smooth finish. The inside was gutted from its original purpose, which probably was to grind grain or pump water. I’m looking for handholds that I can use to get me to the top. There has to be a way...some way out.
A loud rustling sound comes from behind me across the straw floor. I jump and take a few steps back. From the shadows, two-six foot high black spiders approach me. A chattering sound emits from behind their fangs. They hesitate upon finding me and all I can think to do is run. They quickly straddle and pin me to the ground. The silk covers me in matter of minutes, and as much as I try to struggle, I again become wrapped into a cocoon. They easily lift me to a high perch inside the windmill.
Hours tick away, and inside my head I relive my life. Boredom...sleep...I try to sing every song I can remember. All those old rock songs my parents used to play on their stereo when I grew up. I try to remember the words...My little sister plays softball for the high school, I think she has a game tonight...Damn I wanted to watch that game...sleep...somebody will know I’m missing...soon I hope...Who else knew I went to that damn bar? Nobody...Just Mike and Brandon...just Mike and Brandon, Christ that’s no good. Time doesn’t move...does it? Every sound from inside this windmill and outside snatches at my attention. Fuck...I’m fucked.
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The fifth day has passed, or is it the sixth? I’m losing track of time. Everyday has been the same. Each morning I’m let down to eat breakfast and each evening to eat supper. During this time, I’m free to take a dump and relieve myself. I’ve already had a few mishaps in my cocoon with my bladder and smell like a dirty diaper, but who gives a rat’s ass? I’ve searched every square inch of this damn place. There’s no way out. I haven’t seen the two bitches since that first night but twice a day the spiders return to weave me into the web. The table and chair is out of my eyesight, but I can hear the two setting the table. I can’t understand their conversations, even though I’m straining to make out even a small part of it. Every once in awhile I’ll hear them break out in laughter. I don’t see what’s so fucking funny but if I get a chance I’m going to strangle both of the sleazy broads till their eyes pop out.
Once again, I walk to the table to face my nightly meal. One thing is for certain; they do fix great food. Tonight we have meat loaf, a large bowl of snapped beans, and sliced bread and butter.
“My God, is that what I think it is?” My eyes can’t look away from the shining glint of a blade. A ten-inch long knife lies inside of the basket of bread. Finally, they have made a mistake. I pretend not to see it. I don’t know if they are watching me or not, but I have to assume that they are. I begin to eat the meat loaf with my plastic fork and then reach for the beans. Filling my paper plate with them, I slide the basket with the small loaf of sliced bread toward me. In one casual motion, I slip the knife into the sleeve of my shirt and continue to eat.
My mind is racing with ideas and with new hope. Shall I use the knife to kill both of the spiders or should I use it to cut the silk ropes away from me and climb out the top? I need to think this out. This could be my only chance. I could probably succeed in killing one of them with the knife but chances of killing both would be highly unlikely. Slipping over the top would be my best chance of escape. Thank God I joined that backpacking club two years ago or my knowledge of rope climbing would not exist. I eat the rest of the food and pause to let it settle into my stomach. I walk over to a dark corner of the windmill to take a piss and again I can smell that scent, which seems to come and go, of a dead animal or rancid meat. Where is that coming from? I scrape my tennis shoes through the thick layer of straw on the floor almost expecting to unbury something.
The spiders return and again they wrap me into a cocoon. I force my elbows out as the threads surround me. This will give me some much-needed space to move around inside the cocoon. Once my hands are buried under the silk, I let the knife slide out of my sleeve and into the palm of my hand. As they have done everyday, they take me up into the high corner of the windmill. Since I’ve been here, the spiders seem to hang around until the last bit of light leaves my prison. I can hear their shuffling about in the straw and their constant clicking chatter to each other. But once it becomes dark, they are gone. I assume they go out to eat in their nocturnal environment and then return with the rising sun. So it would be best if I waited awhile. If I move too much they will come up to see what I’m up to.
As the last bit of light disappears, I begin to saw away at the threads. It has been an interesting evening so far. Something different is going on below. I keep hearing their screaming moans from below, almost like someone is having labor pains. I have my one hand and arm almost free. I’m going to have to be careful. Cutting too much away could send me splattering to the floor. A full moon is producing a lot of light inside the windmill. Jesus, what is that? I can see the two women lying in the straw below me. They are giving birth to something; both of them are moaning and rolling around from side to side. My slices with the knife become more anxious in fear that this is not going to be good thing. Can they see what I’m doing?
I make like a statue and watch the women on the floor. I have very little left to cut and I’ll be free. One silk rope hangs above me and stretches all the way to the opening at the top. My God, what is that? The two women have given birth to a pair of mucus colored sacks of something. They look almost like a large stomach or something. Wait... there’s movement inside of them...something is tearing open the sacks. A sudden thought occurs to me. Maybe they had me hanging here to feed their hatchlings. Now I know why they were feeding me so well; they were fattening me up. Oh shit! Look at all of them pouring out of the membrane; spiders about the size of my fist. The two women appear to be weak but they’re helping the new hatchlings out of their shells.
It’s time to move. Hanging onto the silk rope above my head, I free both of my legs and begin to climb. They’re slowly coming across the floor. I’ve coiled up enough thread to throw out the top to get me to the ground outside. I’ve made it. A couple of the more ambitious little sons-of- bitches have climbed up here to see me off. I thrust the ten-inch blade into the abdomen of each of them and let them fall to the floor. The women below are screaming out obscenities to me but in their frail condition they appear to be too weak to apprehend me. The silk rope drops over the edge and I tie it off to a support beam. More of the little spiders are coming up the rope, using it to attack me. Nervously, I cut it. I can hear more screams of anger from below as they fall to the bottom.
I slide down the rope, kicking away from the side and ease myself to the ground. Once there, I slip in some kind of grime. The moon gives me enough light to see a pile of human and animal bones and partially eaten chunks of flesh against the side of the windmill. That familiar smell returns of rotting meat. I drop to my knees and puke before I can regain my senses. I realize I don’t have much time to be fooling around. My legs are stiff from hanging in my cocoon but I stagger past the barn and towards a garage next to the house. Desperately, I search inside until I find a full five-gallon container of gasoline. I trot inside the house and find a lighter in one of the cupboards.
Struggling to carry the gas container, I reach the windmill and begin dumping the gas all around the outside of it. In my mind I’m hoping they haven’t got out. Could it be too late? The lighter explodes in my hand from the gasoline and the old windmill ignites like a fuse on a firecracker. I stumble backwards to get away from the heat.
“Take that you fucking pigs. Now who’s the weak one? Makes a difference when you’re sober, doesn’t it?” I yell out.
From inside I can hear them emitting deep ear splitting shrills. I finally relax and feel assured that they are done; I turn to walk toward the van in front of the house. A load crashing sound causes me to stop and look back. From the door burst out one of the spiders, with its black body fully engulfed in flames. Its forward movement drives it toward me, with a flash of adrenaline, I race to the van. Again I turn and watch the burning spider. It stops and before my eyes it turns into the brunette woman. She appears to wink and gives me a teasing smile before she succumbs to the flickering flames.
Now totally freaked out, I climb inside the van and breathe a sigh of relief at finding the key in the ignition. Racing down the gravel road toward the city lights, I meet a parade of police cars and fire trucks speeding to reach the raging fire at the farmhouse. I pull into the parking lot of Buzzards Bar and find my old Ford Taurus sitting where I left it. The place is packed as usual and the load music echoes in my ears even out here. Before I reach the car, a blond lady comes out of nowhere. She’s wearing a sleek dress that exposes most of her breasts.
“Hey there, Mister, looking for a little fun for the evening? I can give you everything you desire. All you have to do is ask and I’ll please you. How about a BJ for twenty? Come on, what do you say?”
“Not tonight, sweetheart,” I said, wasting little time getting into my car. I watch her walk away toward some other men standing by their cars. I had to look twice when I saw the tattoo she had on her shoulder. The black spider tattoo seems to be watching me as I start up the Taurus. “Not tonight and maybe not ever,” I whisper as I drive for the comforts of home.
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