My new senses told me Spiderzilla was somewhat amused. My jaw dropped in surprise. How did I know that? Had the spider put this feeling in my head somehow?

“How fun,” the spider spoke in my head, raspy and low.

I shrieked. Covering my ears, I shook my head in disbelief. It’s talking! I shook my head again. There’s no way. That spit was a hallucinogen. That’s right, I’m hallucinating. I’ve gone crazy. Is this my new coping mechanism for my arachnophobia?

“A new human. I am really getting lucky with my surprise visitors.” The spider’s female voice resounded, this time as a whisper in my ear, making my hair stand on end.

Shocked, I held still. I kept staring at the spider’s face.

What was I expecting? A nice friendly smile? I regarded the now tapping spider’s legs. Was I expecting a nice spider leg wave? Wouldn't that be creepier? Was that tapping in impatience?

I could be hallucinating or it, I mean she, was telepathic. Gathering remnants of my courage, I whispered between shallow gasps of breath, "Whadja mean, new human?” My accent slipped out. “What did you do to me?”

The spider replied, “Who do you think put me here? Gap-Tooth and Blood Lips.”

If spiders could roll their eyes, this would be the time.

“You’re purple, and you’ve never experienced anything out of the ordinary like a mind link?”

Purple? My face might be blue, I feel so sick.

The kicks at the door stopped. Immediately after, two guards rammed against the door and I almost toppled over.

“Blood Lips?” As soon as the words escaped me, I had a flash of an image of bright red lips on a blonde girl with black roots showing. “Gemma… uh course.” I shifted uncomfortably. “Of course,” I corrected.

I wondered how she had red lips the whole time we stayed here. There was one morning she was without the bright red lipstick, and I for sure saw her leave Tracy’s cabin with red lips just before lunch. She was also almost a year older than me, so she should have been taken by the soldiers too.

“They said I couldn’t go suck on just anyone.” Spiderzilla bared her fangs and injected some venom into the silk-wrapped moth. The mummified insect spasmed.

I shrieked again as I felt a jolt of sympathy pain. That poor Mothra.

“Mmmmm….” Her mandible-like jaws with sharp edges poked and sawed at the hole. The spider vomited into the opening.

Cupping my hand over my mouth, I dry heaved against my clenched teeth. Who knew vomiting was contagious? I watched her slurp on her own vomit Mothra soup, uncomfortably tucking in my legs, making myself small. Someone get me out of here!

“Pardon my manners, but I haven’t had a decent meal since I got here.”

If I had a meal, I would’ve lost it long ago.