The Fabric of Death
The bitter winter moon glared down upon the weary hunter, as it parked itself upon a wooden chair admiring its handy-work; its camouflaged trap poised and ready to snatch away the freedom of any unexpected victim. Waiting, watching, listening. Gradually, the silent slayer managed to slide itself into an expected sleep, dreaming of what the invisible prison has gifted it. The hunter slowly awoke as daylight struck its bulk, hefty canvas; its legs creaked and groaned while it made its way over to the trap that was skilfully sculptured the previous day. Eager to see what was within the prison, it stepped boldly toward the rim and stared expectantly inside.
The trap contained only a few crinkly leaves that had floated from the towering trees above, which guarded the hunter’s hideout. The hunter shuffled its way back towards its poorly built shelter, and slumped back into its chair; watching the world go by, hoping to get a glimpse of its victim. The icy wind howled through the fractures in the dampened lodge, as the rain dived out of the murky, muddy skies. Flowers and weeds smiled whenever they managed to get a glimmer of the sun, which desperately struggled to get through the thick layer of cloud. Still cold, still hungry, still waiting, the hunter kept a sharp eye on its lifeless surroundings. The damp stench of soil, blended with the sweet scent of flowers floated through the dense air; then, the unique aroma drifted its way elegantly through the hideout where the hunter was positioned. Shivering and shaking like a rattle snakes tail, the hunter was anxiously trying to get comfortable in its awkwardly shaped rigid chair.
Suddenly, there was a tiny drone. An eagerly awaited noise was advancing towards where the hunter was positioned. The prey was approaching. Quickly, the hunter screened itself behind its shelter, away from the forthcoming victim. Excitement and anticipation filled the hunter’s bloodthirsty mind; its lips grew moist and its heart began beat like a drum within. The drone gradually got louder and louder as it approached the hunter. Then, silence. Peering round the corner of the shack was the hunter, looking very confused and bewildered. The drone had stopped. Its next victim had seemed to have taken an unexpected detour, which caused it to steer away from the trap; still watching, still waiting, still ready to pounce. As night fell, rain began to fall and the wind picked up rapidly. The lonesome, exhausted, hungry hunter fell backwards into his shelter and stared up toward the roof; it seemed to be crying as water dripped through the small rips and holes. Hope had seemed to have gone for the hunter as it lay motionless on the deck of its shack.
An hour passed. Lying on the floor and finding it hard to keep its eyes open was the hunter; eyes became heavier after every blink. The hopeful drone from earlier in the day kept replaying through the mind of the hunter as it struggled to pull itself up. Then, the hunter realised that the drone wasn’t in its head. It was real. Becoming louder and louder by the minute. This time, the victim was not going to get away; it was going to become the traps next catch. A smell of delight filled the air as the prey advanced closer, and the taste buds of the hunter began to tingle yet again. All eyes were on the distance, ready to get the first glimpse of the unfortunate victim; there it was. What the hunter had been waiting for, for what had seemed years. An indescribable sensation filled the hunter as the victim became larger as it grew nearer, the moment had come. Crack!
The trap had pounced and successfully stole away the freedom of the prey. Wriggling, whaling and squirming lay the victim. With every movement the trap became tighter, its grip became stronger; it was swiftly tangling itself up within the trap, making the job of the hunter much easier.
From behind its shack appeared the hunter. The prey, alive and still rolling around in the trap turned to face its killer. It immediately recognised who it was, and frightfully what was going to happen within the next couple of minutes. The hunter chuckled to itself as it lowered down to the petrified prey; the catch of the day was about to become an appetizing meal for the bloodthirsty killer. With a grin on its face and a pair of sharp tools, the hunter looked deep into the prey’s eyes. The glare penetrated straight through the victim who gave off a little cry before producing a loud gulp. A perfectly constructed trap had ripped away the freedom of this unfortunate creature. Now the malicious murderer was about to rip away its life. With one forceful rapid movement, the creature had been sleighed. All that was left was the hunter to enjoy its well deserved meal, which it had longed for. Wiping the blood from its lips and the sweat from its brow, the hunter clambered out of the trap and made its way towards the shelter. It looked back upon the lifeless corpse of its victim and smiled.
The trap had done a superb job and has served the hunter well; perfectly crafted in every way and tremendously deadly to all. Extremely lethal to anyone or anything that crosses its path. Invisible and camouflaged to its prey, it waits in complete silence. The hunter crawled away from its beaten shelter, leaving its trap to be swept away by the storm that was developing in the distance. This spider has had a very satisfying day, and is now moving on to a new spot where it can build another beautiful web, ready to capture the freedom of another bewildered creature; a death trap which will be sculpted using the fabric of death.