What Hides Within (22 page)

Mine, of course. I have plans for your compadre, and if you're around, there could be a problem. Despite your entirely asinine personality, you're far too perceptive and not so easily manipulated, at least when compared to the rest of the moronic lot with which Clive associates. You could pose a problem. Certainly, your morals are, shall we say, lacking. But so is your sense of loyalty. I can't have that. So I devised a way to get rid of you, while at the same time protecting my interests. You helped Clive realize his love for Morgan. Thank you for that. You've made him more malleable.

"You-You're the voice Clive's been hearing, aren't you?"

Ah, you're brighter than you look! See what I mean? You're too perceptive. Now, you definitely have to go. That first dose I gave you was only a fraction of what I can do. The next will kill you. I'm not going to lie to you. It's going to hurt. A lot. But at least it will be quick, relatively speaking, that is.

A tear ran errantly down the side of Derek's cheek. He thought to scream, to cry out for help, but knew no help could save him. He could think of nothing and no one who could stop his unknown and invisible assailant. How could he possibly fight something he couldn't see or touch? What chance had he against this malevolent force?

"Please," he whispered. "Don't."

Derek would say no more. The salt began to burn his eyes. The water blurred his vision. He couldn't move his hands to wipe them dry. His paralysis was complete from the neck down. Derek was a prisoner of his own mind. He would never comprehend what or how it had been taken over.

***

Chester let Derek be. She had broken him enough. There was only one thing left to do. She burrowed deep into the crevice dividing Derek's brain into its right and left hemispheres. The nerve tissue embedded therein accepted her fangs, its surface parting for her incisive embrace as though it welcomed it. The venom flowed rapidly throughout the brain's pathways, causing its pinkish hue and flowing texture to mutate into black, rotten pitch.

As a courtesy, Chester injected a second dose of poison into Derek's posterior cerebral artery. The bite sent a wave of venom into Derek's bloodstream, causing him to stroke. His abdominal muscles strained so hard his ligaments tore. His lips and eyelids puffed up like fat caterpillars. Tremor sent his body into violent spasms. Sweat flowed from his pores. Bloody vomit spewed from his mouth.

Chester had seen it all before. She had caused it all before. She knew Derek's pain was unbearable but short-lived. His fast-beating heart spread the venom throughout his body. His carotid arteries glowed like massive bruises on his neck, threatening to burst. His veins were bulbous and augmented, burning as they decayed.

Yet Derek made no sound until his final moments. When death came, a high-pitched squeal emitted from some inner sanctum deep within Derek's being. It ended with his final exhale, his soul escaping.

Chester slowly worked her way out of Derek's ear, satisfied but fatigued. She rested beside Derek's stiff, clammy body for as long as she could spare, saving her remaining strength for the long walk home.

Clive stalled outside the doors of his not-so-gainful employer. It was Monday morning and his big return to Harcourt. He'd considered calling in sick. As he paced outside his employer's red brick walls, he couldn't understand why he hadn't. He knew that feigning illness would only delay his discomfort. The questions, the insinuations and the over-glorified assumptions would soon dominate interoffice gossip. But a delay at least offered a temporary reprieve. With the way he partied the other night, and with his boss nonetheless, Clive gave himself no reasonable excuse for calling out. No, he would have to face them all. If not today, then tomorrow.

"This is going to suck."

You brought this upon yourself, Clive. But you may be in luck. I don't think anybody noticed you and Judith. That is, other than you and Judith. You're still going to have to face her, though.

"Chester!" Clive felt his first semblance of peace since Chester's inexplicable disappearance two nights prior. "I thought you left me!"

Wow, Clive! Did you actually miss me?

The truth of the matter was that Clive, surprisingly, had missed Chester. In his mind, she was the only one left who hadn't betrayed him. He wasn't about to stroke her ego any more than he already had, however.

"I never said your leaving was a bad thing," he lied. "It's just that--"

You missed me.

"Oh, fuck you! You know that's not it."

Sure it is.

Clive knew he couldn't deceive Chester. She seemed to know his every thought even before he did. He jumped on the chance to change the topic.

"Where were you, anyway?"

I needed some sleep. All that alcohol you consumed affected me, too.

"There was a constant throbbing in my head last night. I was beginning to think you had dug in somewhere you weren't supposed to. Not that there's anywhere in there you're supposed to be."

Oh, yeah, sorry about that. I had company.

"What do you mean, you had company?"

I had a visitor.

"Inside my head? You had a visitor inside my head?"

You know, some private time with a friend. Do I need to spell it out for you?

In fact, Chester didn't need to spell it out for Clive. He understood her rather clearly.

"Awe, gross! You had sex inside my head."

Yeah, like you're one to criticize. Must I remind you of the exhibitionist bestiality display you and your boss made me watch the other night?

"Chester, try to see things from my point of view. I'm still wary about having one spider in my head. Now you're having houseguests?"

You can relax. I cleaned up after myself.

"That's not the point. I don't know where he's been. I don't want just anyone spreading his seed all over my delicate brain. Where'd you meet this guy, anyway?"

He was just someone I met in my travels.

"Is it . . .
he
still in there with you?"

No. I disposed of him.

"Disposed of him? How?"

I ate him. Well, parts of him, anyway. The parts I didn't want, you ate. No biggie.

"Is
that
what I had caught in my throat this morning? Fucking nasty! It felt like I swallowed a cherry stem. I think I even coughed some of him up."

Clive considered shoving a finger down his throat to eject the arachnid remains from his system. But since he felt physically fine, he decided against his bulimic remedy.
Everything will make its way out eventually
, he thought.

"Tell me something, Chester. Why the hell would you want to eat him?"

Why do you think they call us widows? In all seriousness, though, that's actually quite the misnomer. Generally speaking, only captive female widow spiders devour their mates. I did it merely for convenience sake. It saved me a trip to the grocery store, so to speak. As you might imagine, there isn't exactly tons of food flying around up here, aside from what I got stored away.

"Seriously, Chester? You're storing food now? Are you telling me that my head is full of dead, bloodless bugs?"

Well, dead or dying, yes. But I assure you, I only store the bare minimum. After all, a girl has to eat.

"And how the heck do you get your 'food' in and out of my head?"

By--

"On second thought, don't tell me. Ever."

Clive blocked out thoughts of Chester's eating habits and the images they conjured. He had enough to worry about. Then again, he thought, what's one more worry?

"That's just great, Chester. Simply wonderful. If it weren't bad enough that I've got you hanging around in there, you're bringing in strays for fucking and feasting purposes. Tell me again why I shouldn't have you removed?"

Because you'd miss me. You did miss me.

"Frankly, this whole situation is a nightmare."

Again with the dramatics, Clive? Lighten up, will you? Trust me. I'm keeping everything up here tidy and in proper working fashion.

"Trust is something that's earned."

I haven't earned it yet?

"Not a chance."

We'll keep working at it, then. Are you ready for this?

"I guess now is as good a time as any."

Clive pretended to shake off his nervousness. He didn't need to convince himself that he wanted to enter Harcourt. He never
wanted
to enter Harcourt. He just had to convince himself that the day was like any other, a day where he hadn't slept with his obese boss a few nights prior. His relatively settled exterior was a fragile covering over an even more fragile interior. It wouldn't fool anybody.

After pacing in front of the door for another minute, Clive built up the courage to enter his workplace. He was immediately greeted with a hug and kiss from the receptionist. He smiled, considering himself lucky it was Connie and not one of the other two receptionists.

"I had a great time the other night." Connie smirked. She leaned in closer and gave his ear a playful nibble. The warmth of her breath against the side of his neck awakened his more prurient inclinations.

"I only wish you weren't so much of a gentleman."

"I'll make it up to you. I promise."

Clive felt some relief.
At least she doesn't know.
His tension eased as he moved away from Connie, venturing farther down the hallway to his desk.

A firm, heavy hand came up behind him and blind-sided his buttocks. Judith circled Clive, hustling off to do whatever it was she did. She caressed his arm as she passed. With a bat of her blue eye-lined lashes, she was gone.

The sickly feeling in the hollow of Clive's stomach returned. He glanced around the office, praying no one had seen Judith's playful harassment. Observing no eagle eyes peeping over cubicle walls, he continued toward his desk. A small stack of paperwork awaited his arrival. He immersed himself in it, not daring to initiate conversation with his often too inquisitive coworkers.

A few minutes into processing an insurance claim now six days old, Clive heard Felix's boisterous voice bellowing something about how sweet Connie's tits looked in her low-cut blouse. He hunched over his desk, minimizing his presence and pretending to fixate on an accident report.

He can't possibly know I'm here. There's no way he can see me in my cubicle and no reason for him to come down this way. Maybe he won't bother to come by.

"Hey Clive!" Felix's obnoxiously loud voice announced both his and Clive's presence to the entire office. Clive couldn't help but scowl.

"You got pretty wasted the other night, huh?"

"Hey, Felix. You mind keeping it down? I have a headache, and people in Pago Pago can hear you."

"Pago Pago? Where's that?"

"How the fuck should I know?"

"Well, if you're going to throw a place out there like that, you should at least know where it is."

"Is there a purpose to your visit, Felix?"

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. Do you even remember the other night?"

"I had a few drinks."

"A few?" Felix critiqued in a softer, yet still loud, tone. "Dude, you were blitzed, plastered, bombed, rocked, fucked up, shit-faced and all of the above. I'd bet you don't remember half the night. But for your sake, I hope you do. You gave me whack-off material for the next year."

"That's way more than I needed to know." Clive grimaced. His dissatisfaction, however, wasn't prompted by Felix's disclosure of his solo-sexual practices. Rather, he feared the answer to the question Felix had prompted within him.

"What do you hope I remember, Felix?"

"Dude! You and Connie were all over each other. And I don't mean that soft-core porn shit. You guys were going at it. Not very classy if you ask me, being as you were in a family restaurant. But hey, I salute you, brother. Way to go, man!"

Felix followed up his misplaced praise with a congratulatory pat on the back and an awkward massaging of Clive's shoulders. Clive squirmed beneath his grasp.

"Well, there's work to be done. You better give me all the details later. I have to know if you sealed the deal, but if you tell me now, I might have to go rub one out. I can't be popping a boner all over the place, you know."

"We wouldn't want that, would we? I hate to spoil your excitement, but Connie went home in a cab. Alone."

"What a buzzkill, man. Bummer. Still, you could hit that. Let me know if you need help hooking it up."

"I'll be sure to do that, Felix," Clive replied.

Felix didn't wait around long enough to hear his answer. He was probably off to harass any number of female coworkers. Clive was happy to see him go.

Wow!
Chester seemed genuinely surprised.
He didn't see you and Judith going at it.

"Please. The mental image . . ."

Sorry. Well, that's got to make you feel better. It looks like you're in the clear unless Judith told somebody.

"She'd be stupid to do that. She'd probably lose her job. No manager-staff relationships. It's company policy."

She wouldn't, would she?
Clive questioned himself. How well did he know Judith? Even so, she couldn't be that stupid. Why would she risk her job just to brag about one night with an average joe like Clive?

Relief settled upon him. Judith would keep their secret. No one would ever know about the worst mistake of his life. Besides, if he didn't remember it, maybe she didn't either.
As every drinker knows, if you can't remember it, it didn't happen
. He smirked. The worst case scenario for him was that Judith did remember it. He would just have to smooth things over with her and--

"Oh, my God, Clive! Say it ain't so!"

As the voice echoed behind him, Clive's relief departed. He turned to face his addressor.

"Bradford. What's up?"

"Rumor has it that you fucked Judith. Is it true?"

"What?" Clive feigned shock. "Come on, Brad! Of course that isn't true."

Bradford scrutinized Clive as though he were looking for chinks in his armor. Clive sensed the examination. Could Bradford see beyond his poker face?

"Whatever you say, Clive. If you did, though, that's nasty. How would you even be able to get it up?"