The Deeds of Others

Abigail's heart sang when the key turned in the lock when opening the door to her very own renovated farmhouse. This time, there were no estate agents rambling on. The rustic charm spoke for itself.

This property sat completely separated from the world. A rocky mountain backdrop, a large lake view front with grassland running as far as the eye could see. Nestled away with one dirt track out to civilisation.

Heaven on a plate, in Abigail's estimation.

A midst of her giddiness, there was a fibre of nervousness. One that she'd chalked up to just being silly rumours, perhaps spread as a ploy instigated by a rival buyer, to deter her from proceeding with the purchase.

At the nearest town, any mention she made about buying this farmhouse was met with grave concern. Abigail had stayed at a hotel, leading up to taking ownership. Along the process, many townsfolk tried to talk her out of. According to them, the previous owners had vanished, for that area was shrouded with dark speculation.

In one of the mountains, laid the mouth of a cave, where a witches coven did once dwell. They had kept to themselves until a family set up farm nearby and became inquisitive of their ways.

Repulsed by these foul creatures, the farmers shared what they'd witnessed with the townsfolk.

Hatred spread, leading to a siege, men and women taking arms: with torches and pitchforks.

The witches knew eventually their defences would be broken down, so they merged their powers together and brought life to an abomination most foul. It survived the slaying, as intended. For it was conjured at the size of a pinhead. When the horde left, that monster grew without hindrance.

Destined to stalk that cursed land, for all eternity.

When Abigail confronted the estate agent about this, he laughed off such a notion, claiming that all previous owners had used him to move on. That these were imaginative fables used to scare children. Feeling satisfied with his response, she made an offer, one that he could not refuse. An almost fifty percent mark upon the asking price.

She had to have it and thus she did. Her taxi driver dropped off the suitcase on the top of the porch steps and tipped his hat off for the tip. Finally, this was hers to enjoy.

Abigail had so little possessions to bring into her new home. All the blood, sweat and money shed before, all contributed to this moment. Since childhood, owning a dream house like this served as the ultimate goal. The sense of achievement oozed out of the timber walls and the squeaking floorboards. A beaming smile plastered over her face, happiness that spread cheek to cheek.

Later that night, she decided to look out at the lake from the porch, as the moonlight reflected off the shimmering surface. With a glass of wine in hand, she savoured the moment, basking in the chilled breeze that blew. A luminous glow began to grow along the water, at first it didn’t faze her, but then it started pulsating.

Intrigued, Abigail glanced around and spotted that green aura coming from the jaws of a cave, nestled a quarter-mile away. The light throbbed, getting stronger with each passing second. She headed inside to grab her camera to capture the anomaly. While she ventured indoors, legs emerged out from the cave and dragged a gigantic bulbous body, squeezing it out into the open.

Abigail emerged with a camera in hand, aimed towards the cave. To her dismay, it was dark again.

Out the corner of her eye, that glow emanated by the lake, yet again.

There she discovered it, the monster. Next to the water. Flailing it’s front legs up at the moon, dancing in its spotlight.

An arachnid the size of a big rig.

She gasped in horror. It’s head and body shifted to her, detecting the noise carried through the air.

The spider’s whole frame almost appeared completely transparent, seeing through the ectoplasm frame. The skin and hairs were misty as if weaved by its own silken web.

Abigail ran to the door. Just as she grabbed the handle, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed the spider had come closer.

It stood perfectly still.

She took a glance down by her shoe and looked back up.

It had moved again, travelling a significant distance in a mere second.

Only now it kept arching its body and limbs, squatting slowly up and down.

Preparing to pounce at any given moment.

Petrified, Abigail ran in and locked the door. She forcefully flipped open the suitcase, a mobile phone hurled in the air and smashed in two pieces on impact.

A large force shook the house violently, Abigail stumbled to the kitchen in hope of finding a weapon. She raided the drawers but they were all empty.

Cautiously, she peered through the windows, the spider could not be seen.

Another shake rattled the house’s foundations, the walls flexing with strain. Suddenly, the breeze outside started seeping in, the roof had begun to rise at one end.

Instinctively, she raced to the opposite side of the house. The sound of nails creaking came from up above, as the ceiling continued to be hoisted.

With its body laid across the roof as it pulled, the spider snapped a section away. Its front legs wandered curled in, seeking its prey. Abigail abandoned the house, screaming for her life. Her mind running faster than her feet, she tripped and landed head first on a rock.

Abigail knocked herself out, stone cold.

The sound of water dripping from a stalagmite aroused her back to consciousness, though it felt difficult to tell, both eyes opened to pitch blackness. Unable to move, except for her head.

Something tight constricted everything else. A fly caught in a web.

Without warning, echoes wailed from afar. People begging for their lives, for the suffering to stop.

Never would Abigail realise the truth, for she, along with the other previous owners; would never see the light of day again.

The spider did not devour, nor kill. It hunted in the night, collecting small animals.

Returning to the cave it waited, biding time for the digestion of food. When ready, it’s massive stature towered over each captive and regurgitated over them.

Every day this occurred. Providing a person with enough sustenance to endure the nightmare, if and when they became desperate enough to open their mouths.

A choice faced those forsaken souls.

To exist without life or to die.

The first option never got decided without suffering and the latter could not happen quick enough.