William Maloney, aka ‘Little Bill’ ran down the street, glancing back every so often, his eyes wide in terror. He was an athletic man in his late thirties, with blonde hair slicked back in a tight pony tail, still fit thanks to his vegan diet and personal trainer. His dress shoes had slowed him down a bit but he’d lost the heels a block back.
He could see it behind him, the scuttling legs, clicking mandibles that drooled venomous saliva, grotesquely bulbous body bobbled along behind it as it relentlessly pursued him along the rooftops.
Sherlov, the Mother of All Spiders. He’d seen King of The Rings in the theaters as a kid and Sherlov had terrified him more than anything in the world. It had almost ate the Bobbits, though they had escaped thanks to the gear they got from the Elves. William, unfortunately, did not have a magic sword or mystical crystal to drive it away from him as they had.
He dashed down a nearby alley, hoping this one would finally open to the freeway and relative safety. He’d screamed a while back, but no one had answered. The streets were strangely deserted, curtains and shutters closed, all the doors locked. It was like a nightmare.
The web caught him then. It was sticky and he saw a few birds struggle faintly near the top of the web. When he looked to the left, he screamed. A feral cat, mouth open in a scream, had also been caught, though it looked strangely desiccated and did not move. He struggled, screamed, but the webs only wrapped tighter around him.
Debris clattered to the ground next to him and the web bobbed ominously. He looked up and stared as Sherlov descended, bigger than a car, mandibles clicking. Some of the drool fell on his shoulder and his arm went numb. He screamed some more.
“Help! Wake up, help me please!” Maloney begged.
He could see figures moving behind the curtains, but still no one responded.
“No one’s going to save you.” A figure said, stepping from the shadows. “I paid everyone in a four block radius ten grand to stay off the streets.”
“Sebastian?” Maloney stared. “What’s going on? Are you behind this? Why can’t I reach Gonzales or Dominguez?”
Those were the names of the cartel's dealers assigned to this block.
Sebastian chuckled. “Gonzales is currently being digested in the stomach of an impossibly large sewer gator. His mother was always warning him about it when we were kids. Dominguez had his life sucked out of him by The Mummy.”
“What?”
“Do you know that there really is no difference between urban legends and myths? Every story we tell is a myth.” Sebastian held up the Book of Myths. “That’s what makes this thing so powerful. That spider really is Sherlov, by the way, ripped straight from the big screen.”
“How did you even know I was afraid of her?” William whimpered.
Sebastian held up his phone. “You posted it on Twatter. ‘I watched King of the Rings and this bitch will haunt me until the day I die.’ No truer statement has ever been made.”
The web shook. William looked up. The big stinger on the enormous spider’s rear end was pulsing in and out, fluids dripping form it as she descended upon him. Mandibles, razor sharp, clacked in anticipation.
“Please, don’t let me die! I can tell you where the money is kept, the books, everything!”
Sebastian held up a hand and the spider paused. “You know, me and Eduardo used to dream of becoming legit, open a Bodega. Turn our hood into a neighborhood. But we just couldn’t make it out there. Too dumb for college. Ended up back here slinging for you. That’s when we realized you were the problem. Small cut of the profits. Unsteady income. That’s why no one gets out of this shithole.”
Sebastian waved the spider onward. It descended on William.
“Fuck you, you stupid fuck!” William screamed. “And fuck your stupid whore sister too!”
Bright pain blossomed in William’s chest. The tip of Sherlov’s stinger had pierced all the way through his abdomen. A chill ran through him. He went to scream, hurl more insults with his dying breath, but found himself unable to move. Paralyzed but aware, William couldn’t even squirm as the thrashing mandibles closed on him.
Sebastian watched a few more minutes until the spider had her fill. Then he dismissed the summons. Webbing disappeared and the torn and desiccated corpse of Little Bill hit the asphalt with a hollow, dry thud, along with the alley cat and the birds. He took a moment to gather himself and then walked off to the next target, whistling a ditty tune.