Life of the Spider-Sapien

By Georgia Bowan

The life of the spider-sapien is a lonley one. Many gooey eyes all black like magic eight balls, many legs all sharp and black and prickled. She never grooms. Never brought the blade of the razor to the black hair that grows all over the chest and forearms of this woman man creature thing. She never grooms.

Her heart beats on the outside of her chest. This design flaw, it means the core must be protected by a bone cage, a chastity belt for the cardiovascular system. Eats her mate, eats her father and her mother too. Like with the reptilians, you can see the meal shapes protruding through the body, they’re still alive as they wriggle. She has no teeth, swallows whole.

But she has no siblings, has no offspring. Lays no eggs and reads no literature of any kind. Avoids the humid days, stays somewhere dry and dark. She won’t ever die, if she can even be called a she. Rumours say when God created man and Earth, the spider-sapien was banished from Sodom. She teleported and webbed through time and space, ran away from Allah and Yahweh and all the rest because they wanted to pin her down and cut away her legs, scoop out her many eyes, make her into a human like all the rest.

She runs forever, feeds and hides and weaves weaves weaves, forever. Banished from the world they created not meant for her, looking like no other monstrosity you’ve ever seen before.