The Spiders Parlor

A/N: OK, So I've had this idea for a while now, and since I felt like writing something creepy, the actual story was born, enjoy.

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly,

It was always so easy. All she had to do was weave her web, and they would dutifully come, moths to a flame, flies to a web. One by one, they all would come, drawn by the doll, and the treats and toys. Visions brighter than the sun, adventures more astounding than any others possible back in that dull, gray normal world. The only thing she had to do, was offer.

'Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;

With a deft spin of her slender metallic hand, she spun a world of wonder before their very eyes, their precious precious eyes. Hide and Seek in a massive maze, running through underground tunnels, tea parties and pony rides, and anything else they could imagine.

Glancing about the stark white around her, she set to work. Scuttling around her great black threads, she crafted the world once more. The building hadn't changed much, and the pattern was so familiar she finished in almost no time at all. Settling down into what was now the kitchen, she eyed the area with her buttons, checking to see if there were any obsidian threads peeking out. There weren't, she had been at it for far to long to make such a simple mistake. With a satisfied grin that showed her eerily perfect teeth, she moved out of the yellow room.

The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,
And I've a many curious things to shew when you are there.

There was a child coming, she could smell it. The thick sweet smell of dreams and joy, but oh it was tinted with something else, a slight bitterness. Resentment, oh how she savored it, it made her life so much easier. Well no, that wasn't quiet right, a creature like her didn't live, she existed. Ageless and nigh invincible, the black widow at the center of the web. She plucked at strings, and the children obediently came to her. She cajoled them with laughter, and doting, and her sweet nothings "Mothers here, Mother loves, Mother would do anything for you", and they smiled and ate it up, and beneath her smile and her laughs, her wide black buttons glinted.

Making her way up the stairs, she quickly found herself in the attic, and set to work.

"Oh no, no," said the little Fly, "to ask me is in vain,

Oh course, some were more resistant than others, some need more persuasion. They were attached to their parents, they were drawn in but pulled away, frightened by her eagerness. Still, they all gave in eventually, and that was all that mattered. The buttons couldn't be forced, they had to be accepted willingly, the backlash from forcing them would likely destroy even her.

For who goes up your winding stair

Peering out the dark window of the attic, she gazed out at the blank yard, and then looked beyond. Past the stars, and past the sheer white nothingness that lay behind it, and then even past the shimmering veil that the vermin so easily passed through, and into the real world. Shadows warped and twisted and writhed as she pierced through them and there, there she was. Small, eleven at the oldest, and with dark blue hair, that was the girl. She looked stubborn, by the Beldam, the Othermother, She liked stubbornness, it made the souls so much sweeter. This girl would be a fun one, she would be a difficult game to win. But she was centuries old, and she always won. She beat Arthur and that fool Merlin, Kings and Queens, Magicians and Witches alike. No matter what the challenge, she always won her games. Casting the doll she had weaved out into the ether, she watched it depart, and then turned to creating the rest of her world.

-can ne'er come down again."

A fun game indeed.

OK, well that was pretty short, only like fifteen, twenty minutes, anyway, tell me if you liked it. Read and Review as usual, and umm . . . well that's about it, bye.