short story

The black spider walks on my green wall. Searching for the unknown, the next hunt. The steady head, the infinite legs and that ugliness, creeps in me. I see it crawling, pacing those gaps, closing in, conquering the vast green forest which lay upon it.

I get the urge to squash it, to devour it, send him to the gates of Valhalla!

To feel like God, the creator, the destroyer.

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