IRC-Galleria

Served

Paul battled between confusion and curiosity, as he stood in front of a trapdoor. The hatch had been covered by a moldy old rug, which Paul was about to throw out. After a moment of pondering, he left the carpet to the hallway with the rest of the garbage and went to get a flashlight and his largest screwdriver. He was in the middle of cleaning his new home, but it could wait. The house was old, poorly kept and full of spiders, a few hours of scavenging in the hidden cellar would not make a difference.
The hatch was tightly shut, the wood under the rug had swollen and there was no handle. After some prying and cursing, Paul was able to force the door open. The only flashlight he had was tiny and cheap, but it was enough to reveal a natural tunnel of stone and wooden stairs descending in to the darkness.
” What the hell?” Paul knelt down as he was trying to see deeper in to the abyss. The pit was silent, musty air lingered from the depths.
” Fuck it.” Paul got frustrated to his own indecisiveness and tested the first step. Very solid, the steps might hold. He got excited, it looked like an entrance to an underground lair of some forgotten secret society. From the second step he saw a turn in the stairs down ahead. The third step cracked in half under Pauls weight, sending the man tumbling and rolling down the stairs. Panic hit him hard when he came down with such a speed that he slipped past the turn on the stairs and started sliding down against moist stone. The feeble flashlight wasn't powerful enough to show the tunnel dividing in two and Paul was going down the wrong one, fast. After a short freefall he came to the bottom of the darkest place he had ever been. Paul screamed in pain and fear. His legs and shoulder were broken and all thoughts of hope were fading quickly. The omnivore darkness swallowed all his cries and screams. A mountain of pain and one working limb made efforts to stand or even move futile. Eventually Paul stopped trying, he would need to save his strength. Survive, someone would come, he thought. While lying still, Pauls senses started to adapt to his surroundings. First he could hear his heart beat fast, but then came the sounds of thousands of little feet tapping against the wet rock. The thoughts of survival and the comfort they gave were gone. Overwhelming anxiety made Pauls body shiver. Something made its way through a tear in his shirt, tiny legs creeping along his side made Paul act despite of the pain. Paul rapidly rolled to his side, crushing the critter under him. Turning was agonizing, but rewarding in a mind of a nearly defeated man. Pauls feeling of triumph was cut short, as his enemy suddenly fought back. The creature waved all its legs franticly, trying to pull its body from under Paul. As a last act of desperation, Paul rolled back and forth screaming and cursing.
” Please, whom ever power listens, don't let me die like this. I will serve you for the rest of my life, please.” A man out of will and strength to fight laid on his back, clinging to prayer. Fucking Jack, Paul thought. The man who sold him the cheapest house on the market. This was all Jacks fault... somehow. A tiny spider walked up to Pauls chest, and all the way to his mouth. At first he didn't care, let them come. In a brief moment of disgust and self preservation, Paul bit and swallowed. The taste was foul, but suddenly the air felt warmer and the pain started to fade.
”Damn I'm high,” Paul grinned, right before he passed out.
Paul woke up feeling light headed, hazy, and utterly paralyzed. He was sitting on a very solid and cold seat. His broken hand was weaved to his side with spiderweb, and his legs were covered as well. Paul found it funny, no one would ever believe this. A large shadow was cast over his joyful moment, something was above him. A few rocks and some dirt fell down, as a huge creature entered Pauls vision. A giant black spider with a humanlike face was climbing down a thick thread, liquid pouring from its rear. The abomination stopped to stare Paul for a moment, eye to eye. In a one fast swing it presented its stinger, oozing and twisted, and punctured Pauls throat. There was no pain, but he sure felt something coming out of the stinger, something slimy sliding down his throat and into his stomach. As the creature pulled its stinger back, and climbed away from Pauls sight, Jack whispered from behind the seat.
” You served well.”