Horrid whispering
Taunting words and blackened teeth
Father's grinning maw
I awoke with a start this morning. I dreamt of Cain. When I was a child I would dream of him, dreams of my dark and mysterious father, eyes always to the horizon, but with warm embers deep inside his heart that he would one day reveal to me and me alone. When I was young and broken I would dream of him as well, though these dreams were grey and sad and filled with pain. When I'd grown older I would still dream of him, though now they were violent fantasies of revenge, bloody and brutal, but never winnable. It has been years and years since I dreamt of Cain, but last night, in a bitter and sick frenzy, I dreamt of him. I was paralyzed and broken in two, but my hands took up a pen and wrote at a fevered pitch. When I awoke I read the strange words I had wrote in his hands. Below I will transcribe the passage, and then I will throw the original into the flames.
--- Cain's Reckoning, pt. 1
What is normal to the spider is chaos for the fly. Knowing it is caught, the fly will struggle, but, the spider knows. It makes it so as that the fly must struggle to truly become caught. I have waited, patiently, for this tumult. Long have I been denied, all the while watching my insectoid siblings fly about filled with whimsy. Bitterness has made me stronger. And now, my time is coming. As they are wrapped up in silken promises, lies, and deceptions, I walk deftly from web to web. My eyes and ears are spread into every corner, where even their enemies do not think to listen and to look. I see them struggling now. I look upon this sweet tableau with eager eyes, knowing that as they struggle they only trap themselves further. And the spiders grow hungry. And when they see me I can hear them... "Oh brother, you are free, save us from our selves." And I'll look down on them with glee, my grin from ear to ear and whisper, "No."
