The girl’s sneakers shuffle against the stone floor, huffing and puffing as she drags the body. Finally she drops the body in front of Spidermom; it’s a younger child, Spidermom can see through her many eyes, barely enough for one meal, and she opens her mandibles to chide the weak child she’s attempting to raise.

"There’s another one outside, M8m, I’ll get it in a sec," her daughter gasps out, stepping back with her eyes wide; she smells like sweat and the faint tanginess of fear, and the great spider rests, satisfied.



sorry for running this like that