the web of responsive echos

the tarantula’s lair was supposed to be abandoned.

supposed to.

we assumed that supposed to’s work here , at least to the usualy standard deviation.

so we walked in.

and the spider walked just behind us.

like a tiger it followed. picking us up , one by one.

it is then , that we figured that she responds to vibrations on the endless maze of webs she wove.

every step we took, every breath we made. every cough, every fart.

they all stirred up the web, and like the tympanic mebrane, they were mechanically amplified.

we decided that we shall be hunted no more.

we made terrible noises, leaving walkie talkies in our wake, like hensel and grettel left bread crumbs. radioing in, confusing the beast.

or so we thought.

the web at our feet became thinner and scarcer, and we thought we found the edge of the spider’s territory.

if only it was true, all we found was a damp area, which the spider neglect to wire up.

after all, it would be too busy jumping at dripping water.

besides, most of the dampness here bore a stink that did not require light to see.

the radios went dead, and we were alone, walking into the next chamber.

if the former was to restroom, this was the pantry. among the webs, we found our dessicated friends,

the last noise i heard, was the whiplike silk, enveloping me.