Like a spider
She walks across her web of lies on spindly legs, waiting for a reaction from her captive victims
Like a black widow
She preys upon her catch, reveling in the screams of terror and agony as the blood drains
The red diamond gleaming with her sadistic pride
As she steals the life of those weaker than herself

Like a spider
She weaves them into her deadly trap waiting for one foul step to spring and devour
Like a black widow
She strikes quickly, her lethal venom seeping through the veins of her prisoners
Her bleak eyes watching with delight as the color leaves their flesh
The pallor crossing their skin telling a tale of trauma and death

Opal Koboi watches from her perch atop her web of lies as they grow closer, keeping her eyes locked on her prey. The icy wind swirls around them, chilling them to the bone. She is not affected. The cold makes no difference; it has long ago frozen her heart.

The full harvest moon glows overhead as they cross the bridge, ever unawares of the figure watching, waiting above. Samhain is upon them, the poor unsuspecting victims, and they do not even realize it.

His pressed suit billows out around him, and her sheet of camfoil has been stolen by the wind. They struggle with the resistance of the gust, but they forge on. The foolish heroes play right into her clutches. She bares her fangs and readies herself to wrap them up in her spiderwebs

As they draw ever closer, the black widow seizes her chance, surging forward with a jagged dagger in hand and a shrill cry on her lips. She laps up the expression of horror adorning their faces, and prepares to strike to kill. Their screams echo in her mind, fueling her hunger, and she drives the blade through fragile flesh yet again, savoring the taste of their agony in her mouth. A manic grin surrounds her black widow fangs, framing the image of her insanity.

She feels the beating stop through the hilt of the weapon, closing her eyes to enjoy the justice of his still heart. The girl's breath beside him is shallow and uneven. She shouldn't have worried. Her beaten heart would soon rest as well.

She draws the blade from his chest, letting the drops of crimson run down her finger and stain her porcelain skin. He sinks to the ground, and she climbs over his bloody corpse to reach her next prisoner.

The light has almost left the fly's eyes, and what little still shines through is broken, damaged beyond repair. The spider bears down upon her prey, letting the strong wind around them guide her dagger down and through her prey's throat. She feels the drag as the weapon slices through bone, sinew, muscle, and vows to remember the feeling for the rest of her life. Her poor captured fly screams, a horrible sound, distorted by the red tide bubbling up in her wound.

And finally, the shaking of her body ceases, and the weak pulse below her chest dies out, leaving peace behind for the spider.

The web settles back into place as the spider finally rests, folding her legs beneath her and sinking into a deep sleep. All Hallows Eve has shown her the death of her enemies, her prey, the flies to her spider, and she is at last content.