Sometimes she laughed humorlessly at the appropriateness of her code name. A spider, all black but for a red hourglass on its underside. She wonders if the venomous little arachnids ever feel as if they are drowning in that red.
She never would have given the colors a second thought had it not been for him. He who once mocked and sneered through the glass, now looking defeated and downtrodden through his muzzle. She reaches for a black pen to sign the form to send him to his eternal punishment, but something makes her pick up the red one instead.