The Spider

The first hot rays of the cruel red sun made their way through the cracks in the stables, and the Hawk's eyes blinked at the unwelcome intrusion of them.

The stench of the Red Eyes filled her nostrils like they did every... well, morning is the only word, but it wasn't quite a real morning. Black World didn't have what you would call a morning, exactly. It had a time in which the bad became worse, and that was what you might call the start of the day.

She looked around the stable at her Red Eyes, disgusting creatures, she thought. She hated them. Each day, she hated them. She couldn't wait until they were all dead.

It wouldn't be long.

He

made her raise them. He hated them also, she thought. Or at least he didn't ever come around them.

He didn't come around

her

much either, though. Her Master probably felt the same way she felt about the Red Eyes, that he couldn't wait until she was killed.

She put that thought out of her mind. Nothing she could do about that. He had enslaved her as thoroughly as he had ever enslaved anyone, there was nothing she could do but obey. If he sent her to die, then die she would. Same as she was going to send the Red Eyes to die. All dumb animals, going to die.

She looked around the stables, long, dark, dirty wood. She looked over her inventory, the stinking buckets, the cans, the stacks and stacks of Styrofoam plates still white in plastic sleeves.

She lowered herself down silently from the rafters.

Her eyes narrowed. There was something green down there.

What was

that?

She knelt down by it, her lips curling up over sharp fangs as she realized what it was.

A cucumber. A single green cucumber, with a single bite taken out of it.

She hissed.

This changes things, she thought.

***

The Hawk pounded on his door. She wasn't sure he would be there. Maybe he had gone back to Earth.

But he hadn't. The door of the cabin opened, and his long face appeared bobbing in the doorway.

"Yes," he asked, emotionlessly.

She held up the cucumber.

"She has been here," the Hawk told him. "She came in the night, while I was asleep. She left this."

His black eyes contorted in his face.

She didn't remember him looking quite like this at first, she thought. Granted, he had transformed her eyes during the process of enslaving her and turning her into his killer. Made her vision better at night, sharper, able to see incredible distances and find prey.

So maybe her eyes looked at him differently or something.

But she didn't think so.

It seemed to her that he was losing himself. His face no longer adhered to the structure of a human face at this point, the jaw was a long, narrow point. Sunken cheeks and high, bony cheek bones with black orbs sunken deep within them. His skin was the color of ash.

"How could she get here," he hissed. "How could she get in where you are without you or the Red Eyes noticing?"

"I don't know," she told him. "But she is sending me a message."

"With a cucumber?" he looked at her skeptically. "What kind of message is that?"

"She is letting me know that she knows where I sleep. She is letting me know that she will kill me."

His mouth hissed and gasped, curled up in a frozen rictus, lips taut over dark teeth.

He is trying to laugh, she realized. He doesn't know how to laugh any more.

Finally, he stopped.

"She can't kill you. She doesn't have any weapon that can kill you. Her little knife? It won't pierce your skin. You won't even notice it. She might have been stabbing you all night while you slept, little bird. You wouldn't even have woken up."

He stepped out of the cabin into the "morning", rising to his full height.

He had made her longer and taller than she ever had been as a human. But he was still a few feet taller than she was. Around ten feet, she imagined. Maybe more.

She looked up at him. He swatted the cucumber out of her hand. It rolled across the blank sand.

"She wasn't trying to kill you," he hissed. "She is trying to

scare

you. Trying to make you make a mistake."

"I was thinking we should strike this morning. I'm ready. The Red Eyes are ready. I have enough Styrofoam plates at this point and- "

"Ah," he said, his lip curling, silencing her with a finger. "There it is. There is the mistake. You

are

scared, and you are running into her trap because of it."

"I'm not scared."

He stepped closer to her.

"You should be," he whispered. "It would be very stupid of you not to be. She's very dangerous, very smart. You running into her trap would be exactly what she wants, and she is a lot smarter than you. Only a stupid person would run into her trap."

His long fingers reached out, snaking around her throat, grabbing her tight, cutting off her air.

She wrapped her hands around his forearm, grabbing at his hand.

He tightened his grip while she pulled at him helplessly.

Of course, she was powerless against him... he had

made

her to be that. She could be shot, or stabbed, or hit by a small car, and none of that would matter.

But against him, she was weak. Useless. Powerless. She could kill a dozen men and still be made helpless by her Master in the blink of an eye.

She shook her head, her eyes watering as he choked her.

"You aren't stupid, are you?"

No, no, she shook her head. I'm not stupid.

He sneered as he shoved her down into the black sand, already burning hot in the red sun.

"I don't think you will survive the attack," he said quietly.

She hissed low in response, without defiance. A whimper.

He grabbed her head, pushing her face down onto the sand, forcing her to kneel on the hot sand.

"You've been a good slave," he hissed. "Better than the others. I hope you continue to be able to serve me."

His penis slid out from under his pants, long, dark, writhing like a snake looking to strike.

Her wings fluttered helplessly above her.

"It has been a while since I've raped you," he said simply. "I will miss raping you when you don't come back from the attack."

His penis twitched around behind her, coiling, rolling. She hissed in a low and obedient whine. She knew what was coming and she knew it was going to

hurt.

He hurt her very much when he fucked her. He enjoyed it. His cock was longer than a normal man's arm, and he split her open when he ravaged her.

She knew he wanted to make her scream while he fucked her.

She knew she was going to give him what he wanted. She always did. She didn't bother to try not to anymore.

Without warning, his cock struck, striking as fast as a snake, plunging deep inside her. He pushed her head harder into the sand.

She screamed.

He shoved his dark snake of a cock into her, harder, deeper than she could stand. Her claw tipped fingers raked the black sand, her wings stretched taut above her.

She heard that sound that used to be laughter as he fucked her and hurt her.

She felt herself get wet and become open to him. Of course she did... he had made her a slave, after all.

He howled into the air as he violated her, hurting her, sliding his long cock out of her and shoving it back in, a fresh howl of pain and humiliation at each push.

Soon, though, her pain became pleasure. Just like he had made her. Her clawing at the sand became slower, less frantic. She no longer struggled to escape. He screams changed from ragged cries of pain to quieter beseeching for pleasure.

He began to cum inside of her, deep inside of her, it seemed like he was shooting his viscous and dark cum all over her very soul. She felt dirty, and weak as he filled her up, shrieking at her pain, cum dripping out of her onto the hot black sand. It went on for minutes.

She tried not to orgasm. A last little bit of resistance.

She failed.

She cried out as he filled her, shaking, screaming, begging him for more cum, more cock, more pain. She called him Master, she begged him to keep her as a slave, just the way he had made her to be. Fuck me harder, she implored. Hurt me, she begged.

Make me die when you need me to die, she whimpered, her cunt twitching and grabbing at the last of him.

Across the black sand, her eyes focused on the cucumber.

He slid his monstrous cock out of her, flapping around now, limp. Long.

She rose to her feet, spitting on the ground.

"Fuck," she hissed.

He turned to head back into his cabin.

"I have more Styrofoam plates for you later today," he said. "More buckets. We need more time. Don't do anything stupid. You'll get your chance to kill her when we are ready."

He walked into the cabin, shutting the door.

She could hear the soft sounds of his ejaculate dripping out of her onto the hot sand. She continued to look at the cucumber.

I will never eat another cucumber again, she realized.

She couldn't remember if she had even liked them or not.

She shook her head.

Today is going to be the day, she thought.

Today will be the attack.