Like himself and all others, spiders were fascinating creatures. The way they could climb on the walls, feel the vibrations of their prey as they squirmed and writhed in utter fear, or simply ran an in their feeble attempts to escape certain death.

The Spider watched from behind the peaking hole as the dark room scurried, Nazrednas whimpering from the back of his mind. He ignored the feeble fool. Taking on the spirit of his very first victim had been an enthralling experience, but many a time, sharing one body was simply a hindrance.

Especially when he takes control, the Spider thought, though he had gotten much better at controlling that.

He loathed the mind within his mind, and yet, he fed off of it. An ally, a companion, and a victim all in one. He chuckled from deep within his throat as he listened to the occasional scurry.

“What are you doing?”

The Spider turned about, his hand tensing for the knife which he kept hidden underneath his robes. He often called that knife his tooth.

“Nothing,” he said quickly.

Lady Markovila, tall, lithe, a woman he would love to have in his web for just one night so he could hear her scream, stood there watching him, a smirk on her beautifully aggravating face.

Her contemptuous smirk deepened. Why, the Spider did not know. She seemed to be fond of her spiders, so why did she hate him so?

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He couldn’t help but growl.

She stepped past him, her booted heels knocking loudly against the stone floor. She peered through the peak hole in the door. “They’re quite fascinating, are they not?”

We are, he thought.

We are! the mind within his mind echoed.

Silence!

She turned to him, a look of confusion on her face. “What are you scowling at, freak?”

He stepped back, his teeth showing. How he wanted to rip her clothes of and have her squirm naked.

The bitch flinched.

“And now you leer at me?” She laughed, her melodious, contemptuous laugh. He hated it. “Some might call me wrong in the head, but I believe the gods have rightly destroyed your mind, Bayule preserve me!”

He lunged, his tooth coming out to taste her sweet meat.

But then something happened. Something snapped loudly. Now he was looking up at the rafters above them. The Spider found himself on his back at least five paces from the woman.

“Do that again, and I feed you to my spiders!” she snapped, all trace of mirth gone from her character. “You know, spiders are cannibalistic? Don’t you, Spider?” She practically pierced him with that last word.

Nazrednas screamed in agony inside his mind, but the Spider could only spit as he went into a frenzied rage, kicking his arms and legs. Where was his tooth?

There it is!

“I would not,” she said, imperious as ever. “A spider should know when it’s beaten and slink back into its webbed hole.”

I will drain this witch!

Drain herrrr!

We will, he told Nazrednas. We will, as she screams in agony.

In agonnny! No! Nonono!!!

Silence, weakling!

“Like my employers,” Markovila said, “I find you quite distasteful, though I admit, you were quite effective at starting that riot. I will not kill you now. You may be useful to me later.”

To keep from attempting to leap on her again, he forced himself not to watch her as she walked past him, her boots clacking noisily.

“Behave yourself, Spider.”

He snarled, a wordless promise of retribution.