Love of the Job.

I watched as the spider fixed the web. Its determined movements never in doubt. “Web broken, must fix,” was all that mattered to that spider, you had to respect that. I reached up and grabbed it, along with a fist full of webbing. Respect aside, it was a spider and I get paid to kill them.

Not sure when being a exterminator became my career, in truth it feels like the last ten years has been nothing but a blur. I used to live hard, booze, drugs and a woman from time to time. I partied hard and paid the price. The price was becoming a fucking exterminator. Hey I am not complaining, okay I am complaining, but the pay is good and the job isn’t that difficult.

Once upon a time I wanted to be a rock star. I held lead vocals and lead guitar in a few bands. Hell I even cut a demo once with my band at the time. Sure we probably could have gone with a better name, but we were young and so fucking high!

“The Prickdunks,” had a ring to it. I did say high, right?

It was a good band of dudes that really had no interest in much of anything. We messed around and wrote songs between the odd gig that barely paid for the gas of the van we all lived in. That van was a great rolling home, but it got rank with five dudes and no shower, not to mention the vomit. Ah, those were the days I tell you.

I move along the main hall of the home. The problem is spiders, that was pretty specific in the note the tenant had left. Apparently there were a lot and some were fairly large. I laugh at the note knowing that in this climate the biggest spider I would see would be about an inch across. Not scary and not dangerous. I had my trusting cylinder and spray. I was a god in his own eden.

It took me about 5 minutes to scan the main floor. Other than the odd scuttling creature I found nothing unusual. I moved to the up stairs, There were 6 bedrooms on this floor. The large house had been converted into a bed and breakfast place. It was empty. The note said as much.

The first room was a quaint, I think quaint is the proper word, little room that was decorated by some psycho old aunt. I mean seriously, it was wallpapered with doilies. They were everywhere. Every surface and crevice, I swear the bed was made with the damn things. It was embarrassing to even think of someone paying to be in the room.  I quickly took a peek and saw nothing that would have set me into kill mode. So I sprayed the key corners and in a hurry.

The second was a bit better. It was a nice size and decorated with a bit less Aunt. It was still a bit girlie, pink walls and weird floral concoctions that seem to grow into the rugs and sheets, but no crocheted pieces of death. I began my inspect and started seeing some tell-tale signs of spiders. Webbing seemed to be covering every corner, but no actual spiders. I still did my spraying and moved on.

Bedroom three had no little bears in it. Yeah this stuff just comes to me, I have been told I should have gone into comedy. Anyway, this one had dark paneling on the walls. It reminded me of some stuck up snobs library or study. It was a room some English dude would have rented. This room had more webbing covering the surface of a lot of the furniture. I was starting to think the house had not been occupied in a while.

I moved to the fourth room and stopped. I am not psychic or anything, but I was starting to feel like I was being watched. Not sure why, but I couldn’t shake it. Don’t start thinking I am into that new age shit, but something seemed to be watching. I spun around and saw nothing. I looked around and see nothing, but I swear I felt it.

I sprayed fast without thinking. I mean i have read in a few bad crime novels that you can sense someone when they are really concentrating on you. this was kinda te feeling I was getting. I think I have heard the word, “hebeejeebees” used a few times in my life. Back in the hall the feeling stayed as i moved to the 5th room.

This was a suite, or was at one time. The room was a fucking disaster. Furniture pushed over and the linens were shredded. There was a small kitchenette in a hall that led to a bathroom. The wall paper barely clung to the walls and I couldn’t even imagine what kind of shit went down in this room. In truth I couldn’t even figure out why the owners didn’t fix it before I came in.

This room showed the signs of critter. Finally I started to feel the blood pump as i saw a few scuttling about. The webs were pretty much everywhere in this room. I started spraying liberally. When i get into kill mode i like to pretend i can hear their little voices.

“Oh no! the giant is here, the giant is here!”

“Don’t kill us!”

“Save the children!”

Fuck I kill me. I mean that last line was a hoot. I giggle as I spray and soon the crawlies are done and the room,  to quote an old movie, is clear. My smile is wide as i leave the room, but as soon as I enter the hall I am hit with that feeling again. I hate going from happy killer to scared little kid, but hell the feelings I was feeling made me almost wet my pants.

I swear a lot, I know. Hell i can’t be around children because of my fucking mouth. My own sister forbids me to see her two little fucking brats because i am a bad influence. Ah well I can’t blame her, I fucking am.

I move to bedroom six. This is the last room of the house and i am assuming the place is packed with the creepers. This often happens, half of a floor infested. The ones i have seen are probably young. Spiders are not the best parents, so it is in the kids best interest to get the fuck away before their mom eats them for breakfast.

I put my hand on the knob and feel the web between my fingers. This is new, I mean the knob is layered in a sticky web that can’t be that old. I mean it dries fast, trust me, I am an exterminator. That means I know a few things about fucking bugs, keep up!

I turn the and swing the door inward. Okay, I am going to say this right now. I pissed my pants. I am not ashamed of it and not going to say it was anyone’s fault because it wasn’t an anyone, it was the room. I mean the room was gone, it is the best way to explain it. Looking into the once open space was impossible. when I push the door in I was welcomed by nothing but web. Floor to ceiling web, I mean the entire room was web!

I shivered at the thought of any amount of creeper being able to do that. The time it would take, the sheer number of spiders, it was fucked up. I was about to leave when I heard a noise coming from the room. It was like a slither or a dry rasp. I turned back to look into the room to see if I could make out what was making the noise.

This is when you need to just raise your eyes and tell me i am a fucking idiot. I have seen enough freaking horror flicks to know that if you open a door to spider hell and you hear some creepy assed noises, you do not turn back to the fucking room, but I did and for that you may call me a complete dumbass.

So i am standing there when I hear the voice again.

“Killer,” I swear that’s what I heard.

“What?” I asked the web. Yeah I fucking asked the web, fuck off.

I pushed into the room breaking the web as I went. The shit was stick and thick. I hadn’t noticed how think the strands were until I was almost trapped in the mess. I was about to give up when i broke through to the center of the room. it seemed the web was more peripheral than I thought.

Okay, to be honest, this is where i shit my pants to match the piss that I did earlier. Burritos were a bad idea before jumping into a nightmare. yeah you can laugh all you want, but you were not there.

The center of the room was taken up by a bed One of those four poster beds that you see in those deco magazines. On it was a woman about 35. She lay naked her belly swollen with child. I turned around to leave when she screamed.

“Killer!”

I was confused and went in closer. She had her legs spread wide and i had a pretty good view of everything. As my eyes peered to her crotch I watched as she began to breath heavy and push. I was freaked out, I couldn’t deliver a fucking baby. As I watched something began to climb out. It wasn’t a baby, but a fucking spider. Its legs coming first wet and glistening. It was huge, it was impossible and I fainted right there.

I woke up half covered in web. Spiders of all sizes crawling all over me. I struggled hard, flexing and turning against this cocoon that they were weaving. Finally I managed to free a hand and swipe at the little buggers. i was so scared i didn’t think of a bite. I ripped at the web and got to my feet.

There on the table was the woman. her eyes seemed to be open. i saw her stomach and knew that whatever was in there was not anymore. In fact what was in there was in the room with me right now. I moved to her and felt for a pulse. I don’t fucking know if i felt one, I was relying on my hours of watching ER to guide me.

She fluttered her eyes and stared at me. Slowly she opened her mouth to speak.

“They want us,” she whispered. “They want us to pay them back.”

then she stopped as I watched a fucking tarantula crawl out of her mouth. I turned and ran as fast as i could. I bolted like a kitten faced with a rottweiler. my legs couldn’t move fast enough as I jumped down the stairs and through the door. I didn’t bother closing it, i didn’t look back. I jumped into my van and turned the ignition.

I swear my tires squealed for 5 minutes before grabbing the gravel and taking off. I looked in the rear view mirror in time to see the house change. it was like a mirage, a kind of wavering shift. I looked harder to make sense of what was happening. Thats when i felt the wiggling, the eight legged creepers on me. I turned to my shoulder to see one there moving fast to my neck.

I took my hand off the wheel to swipe at it. I was in killing mode, my fucking head spinning with the nonsense i had just witnessed. More spiders came from all around me. I screamed and flailed, looking up just in time to see the tree.

I woke up in my van. I wasn’t sure how long I had been out. The front end was wrapped around an old thick tree. I was on the steering wheel and my head was pounding. I heard sirens coming closer as I felt my eyes sting. Reaching up i felt the wet of blood all over my head and face.

I started laughing. I know insane right? Fucking A! To realize that what you saw was a dream was the best feeling in the world.  reached my door and fumbled with the handle. I was dizzy and had trouble from the wound on my head. Finally the door opened and I fell to the earth. I looked at the van and wondered, how the fuck did I survive that.

As I walked a distance from the van I felt relief. Dream, a fucking dream. all was right in the world. The image of that woman giving birth to god knows what was tattooed on my brain. I shivered as the sirens seemed to quiet around me. The house loomed as I approached, it was different though.

The shutters were grey and the paint flaked off and gone. The porch was worn and sagging as if the wood had rotted. The windows were dark and stained, several of them broken. This house was ancient compared to the one I entered only a little while ago.

Again I was struck by the feeling that I should just run, but another feeling came over me. Where would I go. The van was toast and the next house was about 2 miles away. The light was leaving and i was injured. I decided to just check to see if the phone worked or at least see if there was some first aid. I took a deep breath and walked in.

The inside was as bad as the outside. covered in dust and webs from years of being neglected. furniture rotting around me. The smell of mildew and god knows what was in my nose. I moved to the kitchen, hoping I was just hallucinating. I wasn’t, fuckers.

I picked up one of the old chairs and sat, hoping it wouldn’t collapse. I touched my head and felt the jagged line of the cut. It wasn’t good. I guessed it was about 4 inches long and felt open and raw. I stopped touching, hoping that maybe it wasn’t as bad as I felt. I mean i was awake and walking around, fuck, even the dizzy feeling was gone.

I heard a noise behind me and turned to see a shadow moving across the hall. i jumped up and ran to catch it, but was too late.

I called out, “hey mother fucker!”

No one answered. I listened hard to the house and heard movement from all over. Subtle creaking and weird sighs. sometimes I picked up whispers. someone fucking with me for sure. I moved to the closest sound. It was coming from the back door. I moved and swung the door wide.

The back was littered with trees and each one seemed to have a rusted out car, truck or van wrapped around it.

“What the fuck,” I whispered as I saw the different names on each wreck.

O’donnells Pest Control, Fred’s Dead Wagon, Bug Out! The names went on. I counted at least 8 just close to the house, but there were more, a lot more. I closed the door and turned to face a nightmare.

He was grey, and his skin was dry like a mummy. His left eye was gone and I noticed a spider crawling out of it, running down his cheek and up his nostril. I looked at his shirt and noticed the name stitched in. I found Fred.

He opened his mouth and spoke, “Karma’s a bitch son.”

I felt a wriggling in my stomach. It was as if my insides were in the midst of an earth quake. I felt sick and knew I was going to puke. I turned away from dead fred, I mean alive or not, no one likes puke in their face. As I heaved i felt the wriggle move up my throat and out my mouth. I screamed, I screamed like a fucking girl.

The mass of spiders crawled away as soon as they hit the floor. I looked at Fred, still feeling several crawling over my face. Karma, fucking karma.

“Welcome to your hell son. You got ten years of killing to work off. Ain’t so bad, I got 40. hell lost an eye, and a few other things, but ya got laugh.”

Through the window of the old kitchen I saw the paramedics, I saw them lift the body into the ambulance. I saw too much. Fred laughed and as the spiders came, I screamed. Fuck I used to love this fucking job.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s