Story Notes: I thought of this idea after watching From Hell, with Johnny Depp. Inside a serial killers mind, as far as we would like to go. You know the drill. Read, then review, please. First fanfic of this sort. "This sort" being murder and stuff.
Warnings: Character death, murder themes, utter creepiness
Disclaimer: Eoin Colfer is in Ireland. I am in America. You do the math.
A Spider's Beauty
It was a twitch out of the corner of her eye; the quickest, jerky movement in the air where the wall and cupboard met. The kitchen light shimmered and reflected off of some invisible surface, then quickly disappeared. She turned reflexively towards it. Paranoia, perhaps, fed her movements. She didn't trust a glint in the darkness, even now. The dishwater also caught the light, morphing it and casting it back away into rippling patterns on the walls that were reflected in her eyes. Those eyes searched the shadows, trying to see what they couldn't, trying to will the mysterious object into more unmasking light.
There it was again. The small shimmer. The tiniest, gossamer shine, breaking a thin line through the darkness. She moved toward it, swiftly catching the light on a thin finger. She brought her catch closer to her face, inspecting it. A delicate thread caught around the first knuckle of her finger swayed slightly in the disturbance, it's shimmering beauty slashed now that it had been withdrawn from it's shadows. A cobweb. The strand sipped into her finger where the water had wrinkled her skin, already withering as the weight of the wetness folded its fragile length. Yet another inadvertent victim.
She wiped the strand on stained pants without so much as another look, and turned back to her task, scrubbing at stainless steel through bubbles tinged red. She wiped down long, silver lengths until her face could be seen in the surface. Then she would scrub even harder, to erase her appearance from the reflective edges. The floor in her garage would have to be cleaned, too. She had been careless in the transport of the bags, and one had caught on the corner of the door as she had made her way inside.
Another glint flashed in the corner of her eye, and this time she withdrew one of her blades from the water, pointing it at the dark shadows, an animal snarl ripping through her lips. Pinkish water cried down the razor sharp length as she clutched it, hazel eyes wide and crazed. Yet her hands barely twitched, a practiced steadiness stilling her fingers, despite the addicting flow of bloodlust coursing through them.
A sudden beauty revealed itself from the darkness, causing her to let the blade drop a few millimeters. Eight thin black legs inched from the concealing shadows, seemingly on air itself. But as she crept closer, she saw criss-crossing patterns of more shimmering lines that caught the light for fractions of seconds before winking out of evident existence. She lowered the knife, and echoing clunk sounding as it was placed, still wet, on the tiled countertop.
Her spider danced on a beautiful web in the shadows, barely touching the fragile strands suspended between cupboard and wall. She admired its flawless grace and precision as it floated about its home. She had no idea how it couldn't have gotten underground. Such a delicate thing. But still it was here.
Her lips twitched in a small, demented smile. Thumb and forefinger slid into the shadow smoothly, steady, silently. As it was with all of her victims. Sad, perhaps, that they hadn't seen her coming until stainless steel had penetrated their thin skin, red blossoming like spring roses around deep wounds.
Trouble. Trouble, Trouble, Trouble. He had been first. Poor Trouble. But for her, it had been nothing less than euphoric.
The echo of his equipment locker as he slammed it shut, she'd heard. Last to change, last to leave. She was waiting, still and silent, in the loyal shadows, eyes wide and unblinking. Fingers clenched until white around the black handle. Despite the excitement ringing her ears, her heart was calm. She watched him, as he slid his bag around his shoulders, hearing his own heartbeat in her mind.
Thump-thump.
Why did she choose him?
Thump-thump.
Perhaps because she was the least likely to get tied to his death.
Thump-thump.
He turned to leave, but as he did, his pointed ears shook in the half-darkness, sensing danger. He stopped. She could see his brow crease, could hear his heart speed up.
Thum-thump. Thum-thump.
"Hello?"
Her lips twitched. How cliché…
"Who's there?"
Silence.
He seemed to accept it. His heart calmed.
Thump-thump.
She slid from the darkness at that moment, just as his fears were soothed. She kept her weapon low, pressed behind her leg. Her eyes blazed with madness, bloodlust surging through her veins. In her mind's eye, she was the hunter; he was the prey.
"Holly?"
He saw her, as she crept silently forward.
Thump-thump.
"What are you doing here?"
Her answer was a smile. It spread across her face, each tooth revealed sending an icy shiver down his spine. His heart sped up again, but he didn't know why.
Thum-thump. Thum-thump.
He couldn't help but back away as she came closer, her crazed smile frozen below the demented eyes.
"What is it, Holly?"
Thu-thump.
She kept her slow, crawling pace towards him, moving into the dim blue light through the equipment door's window. The light glinted off her teeth, illuminated her wide eyes. Her smile never changed.
"Heh. Heh. Heh."
Thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump.
His heartbeat pounded as she started to chuckle, the sound breaking through her grinning lips and echoing eerily through the room. His back thumped against the door, and he knew that he was gone.
"Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh."
Thu-thump-thu-thump-thu-thump-thu-thump.
She brought the knife from behind her back as she chuckled, still slowly walking forward.
He froze for a moment against the door. Then he turned around, desperately grasping for the handle. He gasped when he found it locked.
"Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh."
His eyes were now wide too, but with a soul-deep fear. Why should he be afraid? Holly was a girl. Albeit a girl brandishing a weapon with her crazed smile.
Two steps away from him, she stopped. Her chuckle broke off in her throat, but that in no way calmed him. The glint of the silver from the light was enough to stop his heart cold.
Thu-thump.
She stroked it lovingly, resting her finger a moment on the tip, drawing crimson blood just below the fingernail. She looked at it a moment, then licked it off with a flick of her tongue.
He would have used that moment to disarm her, to rip the knife from her hands and hold her until someone came. But he was frozen with his back to the door. Those wide eyes and that demon smile locked his muscles stiff. And, it was her. Not some everyday murderer in the streets. Her.
Th-thump-th-thump-th-thump-th-thump.
Every sound was erased as she spoke to him, so close that he could see the whites all around hazel irises.
"Trouble, Trouble, Trouble," she sighed, her voice almost teasing. His heart froze again in his chest. He flinched as she brought the knife to their eye level, then caressed his left cheek with the glinting metal.
"Don't you want to play?"
Shiiiick. One.
He didn't make a sound.
Th-thump.
His face was backlit by the light through the door, his mouth dropped open. She could see the look in his eyes. The look that said, as she knew it would, Why?
Sniick. Shiiick. Two.
Her hand was warm, stroked with heated liquid. Finally, a choke gurgled from his throat. The corner of his lips was pooled with red. His heart struggled. As long as she kept her weapon inside him, magic wouldn't help him. It fluttered uselessly around his wound, dying out as quickly as it appeared.
Th-th-thump. Thump-th-thump.
Sniick. Shiiick. Three.
He dropped to his knees below her, right into a puddle of his own blood.
Th-thump. Thu-th-thump. Thump.
She brought the knife back to eye level as he struggled to breathe, struggled to live, below her. She could still see her shadow reflected through the red. She ran a finger down the length, collecting his blood on the tip. Then, just as she did with her own, she licked it, savoring the sweet iron taste. She loved it.
Th-…th-thump.
She ran bloody fingers through his hair and he shuddered on his knees, gasping and choking. She used the copper strands to lean his head back to look at her. Red lines leaked from the corners of his lips and she felt him fading away.
Thump…
She bent down towards him until her lips brushed his forehead.
"Trouble, Trouble, Trouble…"
His heart sighed and he fell to the floor, crimson fanning out around his body like a shining rose. She kissed her stained fingers, then touched them to his lips, the last touch he felt before his eyes dulled and his last breath flowed from his body through lips marked red.
Trouble, Trouble, Trouble…
Seven gray-black legs, curled and uncurled in midair as she grasped the eighth in her fingers. They tried to find a surface, tried to escape. She inspected it at eye level, hazel eyes admiring. The spider was such a beautiful creature. Its web shone beautifully in any light, its lovely home. She envied its perfection.
Trouble had been first. Three. Three shiiicks of the knife.
She dropped the spider into the palm of her wet hand. It struggled for a moment, then righted itself, walking around the edges of her fingers. She let it explore, then when it crawled back to the middle of her palm, she clapped her other hand flat on top. The tickle of its legs slowed, then stopped. Her hand withdrew on her other and her beautiful spider lay dead on her palm.
Who had been second? Seven. Seven shiiicks. Grub Kelp. Easy. He loves me.
Pinching the leg in her fingers again, bringing back up off her hand. Some legs limp and hanging, some coiled tight to its body. Dead. Ever perfect even now.
Thirteen. Ash Vein. Spur of the moment. Never saw it coming.
She dangled it slightly above her head, over her mouth. I want to be a spider. Her smiling lips parted as her eyes slid closed.
Sixteen. Chix. An accident. But once started, couldn't stop.
Sweet. Tickled. It was hard to find each leg to trap between her teeth so she could chew properly. But the little body was easier. The smallest crunch of exoskeleton. The inside juices flowed into her mouth.
Twenty-three. Foaly. He had been hardest. Human heart, horse heart. Two to kill. *
A squeal. No, not a squeal. A whine. She knew the sound. It was part of her life. Every day of her life. It toned up and down rapidly, coming closer. She couldn't see it. But it was coming closer. She swallowed her lovely creature. Perfection was inside her now. She turned back to the sink, humming a song.
Foaly had been last. Today. Five in one day. Three, seven, thirteen, sixteen, twenty three. Dead, but not gone. Not gone…
Black bags out of the corner of her eye. She didn't want to move them. They were exactly where they wanted to be. Her song flowed over to them. They liked her song. They loved her. Her song pleased them. She was perfect now. Her spider's perfect beauty inside her.
All her knives were clean now, sparkling in their separate holders. She stroked each black handle lovingly. She heard the waving whine even closer now. As it would be. Her apartment wasn't hard to find.
Three, seven, thirteen, sixteen, twenty three. All here at home with me.
She dried her wrinkled hands on a dish towel, pink-red spots where white once was. Now, the whine clogged her ears, but still she hummed on, her song filling her with peace. She hummed and hummed away, walking toward her concealed friends in their bags.
Three, seven, thirteen, sixteen, twenty three.
"Hello," she greeted as she paused her song. "Hello, little friends. Little spider friends. Would you like to play?"
She heard their answer in her mind. They didn't need to talk. Five lumpy black bags, seeping liquids onto her floor. Her beautiful, perfect friends.
"I want to play. I'm glad I have you to play with me. What game today?"
The whining grew and grew, until it broke off abruptly.
"No more noise," she crooned happily. "No more noise. We can play now. How about Hide and Seek?"
She stroked the first bag with a finger, starting to hum again. "No, not Hide and Seek, I think. Why don't we sing together? Let's sing together, friends. Lovely songs." Her voice rang lightly through the room. Her friends love her singing. A beat is pounding. A pounding, pounding at her apartment door.
"Aw. Not noise again…," she pouted discontentedly. "Pounding at my door, pounding to interrupt our song.
A crash.
"Uh-oh. Friends. More friends? Broke my door, they did. Wait here, my spider friends. Inviting more to play."
Her song flowed between her lips again as she went to the door. It lay on the ground, splintered in two. The brightest white light slammed into her face, and she shielded it with a palm. The light blinded her, but still her song was sung, quietly to herself. To her friends. She heard voices. But they weren't talking to her. Were they? Someone was yelling. Someone was mad. They might upset her friends. Her fingers twitched for her blades. Her lips twitched for her smile. Her heart ached for euphoria. The joy of finding new friends.
Three, seven, thirteen, sixteen, twenty-three. What number next?
She let her palm fall as the light slowly receded, and looked up. A spotlight? From a police shuttle. They wanted to join their fun. She smiled, repeating her song over and over.
A pain in her leg. A pain in her shoulder. A pain in her side. They pinched and stung, but she kept her smile, sang her song. Numbness crept across her body and she fell to the top of her apartment's steps. Imperfect, fairy friends, still alive, came near her. Even when the numbness stole her mind, her smile never left, her song never died.
"The itsy bitsy spider…went up the water spout…"