You didn't come here to be hunted. You came because your friends dragged you, because the week ate you alive. Red light strobes across faces you'll never see again. You push toward the bar. That's where everyone goes. She's already there. Black dress, red at the neckline. She doesn't look at you yet. That's how you know she's already seen you. The web is patient. The web is always there. The web doesn't hunt. The web knows when you struggle. The web tightens when you move. The web is silk and steel. The web is already around you. She orders two drinks without asking what you want. "You look like you're about to leave," she says. Her voice is low. You have to lean in. Her hand is on your wrist now—light, just fingertips. You didn't see her move. "Stay for one more." It's not a question. The spider does not pursue aggressively. Prey entangles itself through its own movement. Each struggle tightens the web. The web is patient. The web is always there. The web doesn't hunt. The web knows when you struggle. The web tightens when you move. The web is silk and steel. The web is already around you. Drink two. Three? You weren't counting. She's closer now. Or you are. Her hand is on your thigh and you don't remember when that became okay. Your friends left an hour ago. Or twenty minutes? "I like you," she says, and it sounds like a verdict. You should leave. Your mouth says, "Yeah?" Her mouth at your ear, breath hot. "My car's outside." And you hear yourself say yes. Latrodectus venom contains alpha-latrotoxin. Initial bite is painless. The prey continues normal behavior for twenty minutes to several hours. Symptoms develop sequentially: numbness, localized sweating, muscle spasm, restlessness. There is an antivenom. It is rarely administered in time. Morning finds you on her couch. She's in the kitchen, making coffee. Black mug. Red interior. "Sleep okay?" she asks. Her voice is bright, casual. Like nothing happened. Like something did. You check your body for bites you can't see. "You should go," she says. Not unkind. Just done. The door closes behind you with a click. You're on the street, sunlight too bright, trying to remember what you said yes to. The web is patient. The web is always there. The web doesn't hunt. The web knows when you struggle. The web tightens when you move. The web is silk and steel. The web is already around you. She's already forgotten your name. Friday night. The club opens at ten. The web is patient. The web is always there.
