Elise fumbled with her keys, almost dropping the pumpkin she still needed to carve before tonight’s Halloween party. Door finally unlocked, she nudged it open, then really did drop the pumpkin, shattering it on the hallway tile.
Before her stood a hairy, orange, three-foot spider. She screamed, heart pounding, as fear rooted her feet to the cement porch. It’s okay, Elise, she told herself. It’s fake—a joke. And then, I’m going to kill Jake.
Even so, she skirted around the thing, muttering, “I hate spiders.”
“We’re not fond of humans either.”
Elise let out another shriek, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the spider. “Did you just speak?”
And then it moved, scuttling around to face her. “Of course I spoke. Are you deaf?”
Despite herself, Elise answered instead of running. “You’re rude.”
“I’m rude? You said you hate me.”
Embarrassed now, Elise stammered an apology, all the while, in the back of her mind, recognizing the absurdity and impossibility of the situation, and quietly freaking out as she tried to figure a way out of the house.
“I’m Herbie,” the spider said. What’s your name?
A strangled laugh escaped Elise’s throat, and she choked out, “Herbie?”
“Your name isn’t Herbie. Your mail is addressed to Elise.”
It could read? “Sorry…yes…I’m Elise. Um, why are you in my house?”
“We were cold and hungry. I hope you don’t mind; we ate your candy.”
We? There was more than one of him? Though Elise had to admit he didn’t seem so bad.
And then his mother came through the kitchen door, all eight feet of her, barely squeezing through. “Ah, dinner,” she said.
Elise fainted.
Image by Steve Roberts from Pixabay
This story was an honourable mention in a Halloween prompt competition last year. I hope it’s as fun to read as it was to write.