Tears welled in her eyes. She stretched out her hand and embraced me in a hug. “It’s about time. Welcome home little sis’.”
We held each other for a long moment. When we broke apart, she slapped a hand on her neck and groaned, “Mosquito.”
I chuckled, “I guess we need to bring the spiders back.”
She moaned then laughed too.
***
Three months past before I finalized my affairs in New York and found a closer job, and two days after I moved back home, I got up the nerve to visit Madame Josephina again. I greatly misjudged her and the spiders and felt as though I needed to thank her. I stood in front of her door, alone and trying to decide how to phrase my words when she came down the steps and opened the door.
“I’ve been expecting you.” She turned and headed up the steps.
My mouth dropped. How did she know? Then I remembered how the whispers from spiders spread to her the first time Melanie and I came. Despite not seeing any spiders today, I had no doubt hidden spiders overheard my conversion with Melanie and conveyed my intensions.
It felt like déjà vu as I sat in the same spot on the love seat. Madame Josephina wore a similar black dress and was across from me stroking Maximo, who had clambered out from the greenery. She assured me that the rest of the spiders from the shed were released deep in the forest, but that didn’t stop me from gazing at the others, creeping along in their terrarium habitats, their beady eyes peering at me. I shivered. I may not have the fearless actions of a five year old, but I thought I’d come a long way over the months, reading about spiders and accepting them as a valuable part of nature. I inhaled a sharp breath. “Do you know why I came?”
“I’ve heard the whispers, but I’d like to hear it from you. I believe Maximo does too.”
I began by telling her the story of camping in my backyard with my mother and sister. Then I admitted that part of my hatred and fears towards bugs and consequently, the same part of me that wanted to escape Hillsdale was because my mother died.
“It’s only natural that you miss your mother.”
“I was young and maybe I’m still learning, but I needed things to fall out like they had. I needed to see what was in that box to remember the joy my mother brought. Not repress anything that I associated with her as I had on the day you came to the shed.”
“It takes a strong person to overcome their fears. Fears and prejudices go hand in hand. You never took the time to understand the arachnid, to know their importance. Every living thing has a purpose and to bring unjust harm to another creature, whether human, animal or even an eight legged spider was wrong.”
I nodded agreeably.
“There are times, the food cycle for instance, that death is immanent for others survival, but I believe you are regretful.”
“Regretful, but thankful,” I corrected.
She smiled faintly. “Yes, Maximo accepts your shortcomings and apology.”
I hadn’t exactly apologized to the dog-sized spider, but the thought crossed my mind.
“Would you like to stay for coffee?” she asked.
“No. I promised Melody I’d stop over. Her husband, Brant, is being released from his final physical therapy. They’re having a celebration.”
“I understand. Please give them my best.”
Madame Josephina walked me down to the door, but before I left, I asked, “How do you do it?”
“What’s that my dear?”
“Talk to the spiders. Do you have a psychic link?”
A dark wicked curl crossed her lips. “It’s simple. I’m Madame Josephina, Ancient Mother of all Arachnids.”
The irises in her eyes shimmered with silver. Maximo scampered out of her arms and up the stairs, stopping at the top. She grabbed her stomach and hunched over as though a sudden painful cramp clawed at her from the inside. Concerned, I extended my hand. Before I touched her shoulder, the muscles over her back rippled. I yelped and jumped back. She crumpled to the floor. Her black dress melted into her body replaced by fuzz. Sickening sounds of bones and sinew snapping registered to my ears. I couldn’t understand what was happening. Then each arm and leg grew thinner, shifting, until it finally broke into two identical parts—totaling eight long legs. She pushed up on her legs, lifting her body and head to the full height she was as a human. Her fangs twitched at me for a few long mocking seconds. She was the Mother of all Arachnids. I bit my lip from screaming. My body was engulfed in frozen terror. She turned, scampered up the steps, and disappeared from my sight.
Slowly, I let myself out the door. When my feet hit the sidewalk, I began to run, my heart pounding at her horrific image burned in my mind. My God, I thought. She’s a shapeshifter. The Ancient Mother of all Arachnids. What kind of town had I agreed to move back to?
The Kiss
by
Jenny Phillips
I pushed my way through the sea of swaying bodies. The dance floor was packed more than normal, though I was far from a regular…yet. The sweaty, dark and overcrowded dance club had been the source of my escape from reality for the last month. My latest and nowhere close to greatest foster home was conveniently located only a few blocks away. The current techno beat was numbing my brain exactly the way I liked. I didn’t care much for the music, or company for that matter, but I could get lost in the crowd. And it helped that the bouncer never took the time to actually look at the fake ID I flashed at him. Yes, I could hide here without standing out or having my foster parents breathing down my neck. The elderly couple meant well, but they were suffocating me. Luckily I was now only a few hours away from my eighteenth birthday and headed for the real world. I had a job and only needed a place of my own, and that was hard to come by when you weren’t yet a legal adult. But tomorrow that would change and I would start the apartment hunt. The Whitcomb’s had agreed to let me stay in their home until I could get something lined up.
My usual dark corner was taken in the club and I set out for a new shadow to lurk in. The music changed to a faster beat sending the crowd into a frenzy. I shifted my path to the outside of the dance floor and examined the occupant of my corner. I expected to find a couple groping each other in the cover of darkness. Instead a man geared in all black stared back at me. His eyes watched me cross in front of him and I shuddered unexpectedly, the intensity of his stare was intimidating. I quickly turned my back on the stranger and searched for the next secluded spot.
I found it across the room, another corner, situated in between the bathroom and the entrance. I soaked in the free time, people watching, leisurely sipping on a mojito but never daring to leave the comfort of my shelter.
I ignored a couple of attempts to get me to dance. An older guy was distastefully bold and asked if I’d like to join him in the bathroom. I rolled my eyes accordingly and ignored his insults at my rejection. My red hair always attracted unwanted attention. My full lips naturally turned down into a pout that apparently signaled damsel in distress. At least that’s what I’d been told by countless sleazy pick-up lines. I let the refreshing mint roll across my tongue and imagined that within a few more weeks I could be in my own apartment, no more annoying foster parents or perverted foster “siblings”. A place of my own. Clothes that couldn’t be stolen, food I actually enjoyed, privacy.
Ahhh.
A rude bump jolted me out of my daydream. I opened my mouth to protest but was abruptly slammed into the concrete wall behind me. The dance floor had started to spill over in my direction. There were shouts and screams followed by more forceful shoving. The commotion seemed to be a fight that had now consumed half the occupants on the dance floor. The lights flicked on and the DJ announced that the club was shutting down for the night. I thought they were overreacting slightly, it was a bar fight not a riot. However I realized more bodyguards were rushing in to help disperse the fight. Bodyguards were wrestling people to the ground, but just as quickly more people were joining in to meet the new wave of guards. This had definitely gotten out of hand I co
uld hear the shrill police sirens in the distance.
With a fake ID in my pocket I decided it was time to disappear. The desire to get out of the mess outweighed my disappointment at my much anticipated leisure time.
The night air was shocking after the stifling heat of the club; the fresh air filled my lungs and stung my eyes. It hadn’t felt unbearably cold when I’d entered the club but somehow it had managed to drop in the short amount of time I was in the building. I desperately wished I would’ve brought a jacket and tugged my long sleeves down over my bare hands.
I caught a quick glance of the guy that had taken my corner, he seemed to be searching the crowd for someone and I knew I hadn’t ever seen him at the club before. Must’ve been meeting someone there, I should get my corner back next week I noted. His eyes fell on me again and narrowed. Had he been searching for me?
I started out for home and tried to ignore the nagging feeling in my stomach that told me not to turn my back on this guy. What could he possibly want from me? I’d never seen him before. My breath sent little puffs of white into the chilly night. The thud of shoes behind me sent a little chill up the back of my neck but I didn’t dare allow myself to look over my shoulder. Instead I focused on getting around the corner and into the light of some downtown shops.
Once the light spilled across the sidewalk I relaxed slightly in the orange glow.
“Ella.” I heard a deep voice call from behind, I stiffened back up immediately.
The guy was only a block behind me. I fought the urge to run and decided it would be easier to just get the confrontation over now.
“What do you want from me?”
He continued to walk closer, not answering me.
I tried again, “Do I know you? How do you know my name?”
He was only a couple yards away now and I could see him consult his watch in the moonlight.
“Wanna grab a coffee?”
“Seriously?” I asked exasperated.
“I’d like to talk, and maybe you could warm up.” He shrugged but still seemed to be in a hurry.
“I really shouldn’t, I need to get home.” I stifled a shiver and pivoted on my heel.
“You and I both know your foster parents aren’t going to realize you’re even gone.”
This stopped me midstride. It should have scared me. It should have sent me screaming into the nearest shop, which I realized ironically was a coffee shop. But somehow it didn’t, if this guy knew something about me, then he probably had other opportunities to hurt me, if that was his goal. If he intended to rape or kill me, would he have taken the time to research me? Wouldn’t he have grabbed the first girl on the street? What could a coffee in a well-lit shop hurt?
I eyed him skeptically and chewed my lip. I finally shrugged and opened the door to the coffee shop. I motioned for him to follow me. The warm smell of roasted coffee mixed with sweet French vanilla and hazelnuts filled my nose. Despite the odd scenario I inhaled deeply and placed my order for a large macchiato. Mystery man ordered a plain black coffee and followed me to a table by the front window.
The light did wonders for him. He no longer seemed menacing but surprisingly normal. He could’ve been any guy from a number of my classes. His blond hair was short and he had dimples that were visible even without a smile. His green eyes however, did not fit his pleasant face, they were guarded and sad.
Once we were seated he held his hands up, “See? Harmless.” He joked.
I didn’t relax.
“So how do you know my name?”
“Right to the point,” He smiled coyly, “I like that.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Ella, I’ve been watching you for some time, well-we’ve been watching you.” He corrected.
The fact that he knew my name had already eluded to that piece of news, what I wanted to know was why.
He continued, “I am part of an Order, and we help girls like you.”
I shook my head slowly, indicating he had completely lost me, “Girls like me…orphans?”
“Succubi.” He corrected.
“I’m sorry, what?” An internal war raged, one half wanted to get up and leave the table immediately. The other and clearly the winner, wanted to humor this stranger with sad eyes.
He rubbed his hands over his face, “This is never the easy part.” He cleared his throat. “You are a Succubus. Known by many different names throughout history, Succubi suck souls or energy depending on what you believe in. A sort of vampire you could say, only instead of blood they suck the life force of another human being.”
“Ha. Well I’ve heard enough for one night.” I rose quickly, eyeing my quickest exit and wondering if I could make it home without this guy bothering me.
“No, I’m serious. Ella you need to listen to me.” He put his hand on my arm, I flinched but couldn’t bring myself to leave. Again there was something holding me there, maybe the seriousness in his eyes. “I’m here to help you. The Order is here to help girls like you make the transition as easily as possible. There are others like you.”
I didn’t take my eyes off of him but slowly sat back down, he retracted his hand.
“Unfortunately with Succubi, many are orphaned, seeking guidance.”
“Why is that?” I asked.
“Well, the way it works is that Succubi can live immortally as long as they continue to feed off the souls of others. This damns them to a life of solitude I’m afraid.” He clasped his hands together and laid them on the table. “Obviously an intimate relationship would only result in death for the partner.”
“But what about the…” I wasn’t quite comfortable using the word Succubus, or Succubi, was that right? “The Mother? What happens to them?”
“Ah,” He trained his eyes on his folded hands. “There are hunters of Succubi, individuals seeking the power of others. It is said that if you kill a Succubi in a certain manner you are able to taste their immortality.”
“Certain manner?”
“Sacrifice.”
“Oh.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “So most Succubi have been eliminated by these hunters?”
“I don’t know about most, but a lot. There are Succubi who choose to live a normal life.”
“How is that?”
“Succubi only keep their immortality by sucking souls, others can live a normal, if shortened, human life by not draining others of their essence. Simply abstaining from what they are.”
“And how do you do that? Be a Succubi? Suck souls, whatever.”
A shadow seemed to pass over his face, “Oh, well through intimate contact,” When he saw my blank expression he added, “like kissing.”
“Hmm, so why are you just now telling me this if you’ve been following me for a while?”
“You will transition on your eighteenth birthday.”
“That’s tomorrow.”
“I know.” He took another sip of his coffee, mine remained untouched.
“Does it kill them?”
He nodded solemnly.
“So I’ll never be able to kiss someone I care about without killing them?”
He pursed his lips, “That’s right.”
I should’ve have been walking out the door, rolling my eyes and continuing on with my life. But somehow I knew that what I was hearing was right, some deep-rooted knowledge that what this stranger said was the truth. I felt tears stinging my eyes. I had always felt different, and lately that part of me felt more and more alert.
“How do you plan on helping?”
The guy took a deep breath. He seemed relieved as if he were prepared to argue his point, not to have me accept it so willingly.
“I can take you to be with others, we can all help you, together.”
I had to admit, it sounded great. Not the soul sucking part, but being surrounded by others like myself. Not that I really knew what “like myself” meant at this point, but I guess just the concept of being surrounded by people that care.
“So how did you know about me?”
&nbs
p; “Um,” his forehead scrunched while he seemed to struggle for an answer. “We’re each assigned a Succubi to… to help, you know, transition.” For the first time he seemed uncomfortable, jumpy even.
“But who-“
“Should we head out?” He stood and pitched his coffee into a nearby can.
“I…guess.” I answered uncertainly. I couldn’t decide if he was genuinely in a hurry to get going or if he was avoiding my question. I followed suit and decided to take my drink with me. At least it would give me something to do with my hands. I shrugged and headed back out into the cold air.
“I don’t even know your name?” I spoke up.
After another pause, “Mark.”
“How far are we going?” I pressed with another question.
“Are you cold?”
“Freezing. Do you mind if I stop by my house to grab a jacket-“
Mark caught my elbow hard, I spun around surprised and dropped my coffee. His hardened face quickly disappeared and he pulled his hand back. He now rubbed his hand absently, as if he were trying to scrub off germs he’d contracted from touching me.
“It’s just that it’s in the opposite direction, and I know they’re waiting for us.” He ran his hands through his hair roughly, the impatience creeping into his voice. “We’ll be there in as much time as it would take for you to go home and get your jacket.” He tried to come across normal, but it was too late. The warning flags had went up and regardless of how bad I may have wanted to have people to talk to, I had come this far on my own. I was used to being alone. Trust was not something that came easily to me, no matter how enticing or promising it was.
“Fine.” I said attempting to hide my own irritation. I didn’t want to tip him off that I had grown suspicious. I decided it would be best to keep him talking. Hopefully I could distract him enough that I could slip away in a crowd or a better-lit area.
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