Dr. Randall Archer wormed his way out of the narrow tunnel into what he thought was the ancient temple of Neith, the Egyptian goddess of weaving and destiny. A natural cave formation, the space was littered with stone columns, some resembling falling water frozen in time, most carved into the shapes of people whose faces flowed like melted wax from centuries of dripping minerals.

He held up his electric lantern, the stark light coaxing iridescent rainbows from the water worn stone. In the dimness he could make out an altar at the opposite end of the room, a shimmering sheet of cobwebs covering the surface.

“I made it through!” he shouted back through the tunnel. “This is it!” The temple had been lost for centuries. His assistants would need time to set up before they could follow, allowing him the opportunity to appreciate his discovery. He planned to savor every moment.

The caryatid columns with their contorted expressions demanded attention, but it was the alter that drew him first. Stepping carefully over the slick floor, he could make out a stone slab supported by two hewn stalagmites. Beneath the cobwebs were carvings of spiders crawling around the edge in single file.

Curious, he wiped at the webs for a clearer view. They stuck to his palm. He tried to shake them off, but all that did was draw more of the webbing from the slab, pulling at it like a bedsheet.

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“What the hell?” He put down the lantern so he could use both hands to wipe at himself. This only entangled his fingers further into webbed mittens. These were not old, dusty cobwebs like he was used to. These were white and fresh, sticky and tenacious.

He heard a whisper in the dark. Instinctively he ceased his struggles and turned, drawing the webbing around him like a blanket. The massive spider stood just feet away, a black, bulbous abdomen over legs as long as his arms and just as thick. Streaks of red like dripping blood covered its exoskeleton, and its glittering eyes shown above curved dagger-like fangs.

In denial he looked away toward the columns, but light and shadow revealed a truth. They were not carved. He was surrounded by the exsanguinated husks of corpses bound to natural columns with webbing and oozing dripstone. In panic he pulled at his cocoon, but the silken threads wrapped around him even more tightly. Thoroughly encased, he fell back onto the stone slab like an offering.

The creature glided casually over him, examining its gift with eight, unfeeling eyes. He tried screaming, but the webbing muffled his cries.

Biting into his stomach, it belched digestive acids into him. He could feel his insides burn as they melted into liquid nourishment. When the spider sucked at him, drawing his essence into itself, he could feel himself slipping away, becoming a part of it, until his soul was gone and only Neith remained.