Spider

CHAPTER 7

"That's it, it's this kind of sound, the sound of the victim's pain that turns them on even more! They stuff all kinds of fruits in you one by one, in order, and you feel your soul being squeezed and disintegrated by them. Integrity, dignity, the feeling of being alive... leave you as well. Everything you see in your eyes, the sky, the buildings, the people... crumbles instantly like a sandcastle washed by the sea, leaving only the endless pain of nothingness...."

"But it's not over yet, and then they... they..." Samuel finally curled up on the floor unbearably, clenching his body, as if to compress himself ruthlessly from space until he disappeared completely. It was a kind of desperate pain that wished to destroy and burn itself, the extreme hate and abandonment of one's own soul.

"It's all over..."

Samuel looked up blankly and saw the sweaty face under the damp blonde hair pulling out a weak smile at him. "It's all over, Samuel. You're still standing here now. It was just a nightmare... It's all over."

"No, it's not over. They ended up leaving an eternal imprint, meaningfully imprinted on body and soul, and it's a passport to hell..."

Samuel's lips quivered, and he began to take off his pants and underwear. Jason's eyes widened in disbelief as the contents dangled lifelessly before his two eyes.

"My God..." What did he see! That dark purple, ugly thing not shaped like it should be in this world, crooked like a mushy eggplant thing — is this a man's dick?

"Look, this is the devil they left behind. No matter how hard Rebecca and I tried, it wouldn't get hard... Do you know what the doctor said? He said, 'the erectile tissue was snapped into several sections, and it's already lucky that there is no necrosis — do you expect it to look like a French baguette?'... And those policemen, they forced me to go through the most exhaustive details, including the most embarrassing parts, and vowed to catch them, but in the end told me they were sorry... They escaped without a trace, and there is no law that can grow wings and claws to snatch them back... Why, why did this happen? Aren't we protected by the government? Isn't the Lord watching from heaven? Why..." He covered his face tightly, a string of indescribable sobs spilling out from between his fingers, and dropped to his knees on the cold, coarse floor.

"Can't get hard?" Jason whispered, and then he shifted his face a little bit and started licking that hideous thing, sucking it gently in his mouth, and scratching it softly with his tongue. He tried hard for a long time, but it still hung down like a dead branch refracted by a new bud. He sighed in disappointment.

"There is no hope," Samuel said indifferently, "I really want to stop here, as I don't want to hurt you at all... But that won't do. The will of the individual doesn't divert reality, what's destined to happen cannot press the stop button. We must continue."

"You want to make me like you?"

"No, I'm just trying to find an exit for the maze. I'm lost in there, surrounded by darkness. Cold, rotten-smelling monsters chase me, trying to tear me to pieces and swallow me, and then I'd become part of them — a piece of rotten, stinking flesh or a few nauseating, viscous bones! I'm so scared, I don't want to be like that! I tried desperately to get out, but I couldn't see the light of the exit, nor turn around... I must find the exit, otherwise I'll be dragged to hell by them... I have to do this!"

"You'll really go to hell if you do this! Stop already, yes? Let me go, Samuel."

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do..." Samuel gave him a sorrowful and complicated look. "You're the last one. You have to go down here, or the gates of hell will open."

"Down here?"

"Yes, down here." His fingertips drew a curve on the ground along the edge of his body. "In the same posture, all three of them are underneath. You have to go down here, too."

Jason felt his blood freeze from head to foot. Right under him, under the cold and damp concrete floor, were three bodies buried? He and them overlapped on top of each other like a lasagna, the edges perfectly aligned! He couldn't help vomiting, and although nothing came out of his empty stomach, he still vomited violently as if he wanted to clear all his internal organs.

The iron door was suddenly slammed open, hitting the wall with a loud noise!

Both Samuel and Jason looked at the doorway simultaneously, where a beautiful woman was standing with tears streaming down her face.

It was Rebecca.

"That's enough! Enough already, dear, stop tormenting yourself again and again..." She rushed in and hugged Samuel tightly, pressing his head against her chest. "I don't care what you've become, I don't care at all, but please don't continue.... Haven't you noticed that every time the nightmare repeats itself, the gates of hell open, dear. You want to abandon me and fall alone? I won't let you do that anymore..."

"Then what should I do?" The man in her embrace, his gaze perplexed and lax, asked softly in a delirious-like voice, "What should I do?"

"Pray to the Lord, together, and He shall hear and save us, surely... You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths. Your wrath lies heavily upon me; you have overwhelmed me with all your waves. I am confined and cannot escape. I call to you, Lord, every day; I spread out my hands to you [1]..." Their voices scattered and smashed and gradually merged. In this dark and narrow space, the echoes of a hymn began to drift, singing quietly like a ghost...

Jason let out a deep sigh and began to struggle to reach the hilt of the automatic knife with his fingers — it had just been kicked by Rebecca, and it was very close to his right hand. He finally grabbed it and began to grind and cut the nylon rope above his wrist, and soon his right hand was free again. By the time he crawled up from the ground with difficulty, the unselfconscious lovers were still whispering and kissing endlessly.

Jason leaned against the wall, struggling to get the frozen fruit out of his guts, trembling in hurt. Fruit juice mixed with wisps of blood flowed down the inside of his thighs. He put his fingers in and explored, feeling that the situation inside was not as serious as he thought. The wounds on his body had already stopped bleeding, too.

"Close call." Jason smiled bitterly in self-mockery. "Adri will definitely scold me if he learns about this." He slowly walked out of the storage room, feeling the strength return to his legs little by little. Behind him, Samuel and Rebecca were making love; his head was raised, muttering Bible chants while she lay down between his legs and fucked him, her long waterfall-like honey-colored hair glistening under the lamp.

"Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. Rice," Jason whispered, quietly closing the iron door.

He grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt from the coat rack and put them on, walking out the door into the cool, breezy late night. It's not too far from home, maybe I can walk back slowly, he thought, and then set out on his way home.

When Jason pulled open the small gate of the yard, the whole house was silently shrouded in the dim light of night.

"Adri's asleep so early? It's not even midnight yet," he thought aloud as he crossed the lawn.

"You're back? I thought you were going to be screwing around in some guy's bed until tomorrow before remembering to call me." A familiar voice came from behind him, and Jason turned his head to see his roommate standing in the doorway with a supermarket bag. Even through the lens, he could perceive his resentful and unhappy eyes.

"Dear, I'm so happy to see you," Jason said from the bottom of his heart. If it weren't for the terrible pain all over his body now, he really would've wanted to rush up and give him a hug.

Adrian frowned. "Did you get in trouble again? You don't look too well."

"Oh no, I'm fine, I'm just so hungry. Do you still have my share of dinner?"

"The fridge's empty. I just went to the supermarket to buy some beer and food." They talked as they walked into the room. Adrian placed the bag on the small side table and fished out things one by one.

Jason wolfed down a chicken sandwich, raised his chin to a small plastic box he took out, and asked vaguely, "What's this? Is it edible?"

"Of course, it was on sale at the supermarket today — want some?" Adrian opened the box and handed it to him.

A box of bright red, plump strawberries.

Jason's face went white. He ran into the bathroom and leaned down on the washstand to throw up.

"Hey, you okay?" Adrian asked nervously, "Does your stomach ache? Do you want painkillers?"

Jason retched for a while. He propped his head half-deadly and pulled a twitching smile at the corner of his mouth. "It's nothing, I just eat up the..."

"Did you even eat anything?" Adrian muttered suspiciously and went out of the bathroom.

"By the way, Adri, help me find peroxide, gauze and anticatarrhals. Ah, and ointment."

"What for?"

"My hemorrhoids broke."

"...Jason, you lying bastard! One day your nose will be longer than Pinocchio's!"

"Trust me, dear, that kind of waste would never happen to a lady-killer."

Next day, Arrowhead Express.

"Oh my God! You're late again!" Mike nervously pulled Jason into the corner. "Erika's been storming around furiously for over an hour. If you show up in front of her at this hour, she's going to throw you in a cauldron to cook lizard soup! Hurry up and get to work, there’re too many packages piled up on the table today!"

Jason groaned and leaned weakly onto the hill-like pile of packages. "Let her stew me up, I don't wanna move a foot."

"Handsome, if I were you, I'd rather go outside and yell 'I'm going to fly a plane into the White House' than provoke that old witch..."

Ignoring his endless jabber and persuasion, Jason pulled out a New York Times from the bottom of the package hill. A moment later, he exclaimed, "An explosion?"

Mike came over, took a look and said, "You don't know, it happened last night. A house in the Palm Grove Villa area exploded. I heard that a man and a woman died, a couple. The police preliminary investigation said it was an accident caused by a gas leak... Ah, it doesn't seem to be too far from your home. Didn't you hear anything last night?"

Jason stared at the paper in a daze, not saying a word.

Mike was still expressing his rueful feelings, "Queens is full of bad luck. Seriously, it's either an electrical overheating or a fire on the bridge. If the dignitaries could care about this place half as much as they do about Manhattan, there wouldn't be accidents all the time... Come on, man, don't look so sad, ignore that idle government — the Lord is on our side, and He shall protect us."

"Is the Lord... really on our side?" Jason asked quietly, then crumpled the newspaper into a ball and threw it in the trash can.