In a tiny brown shed in the corner of a graveyard, a Black Widow had weaved her home. A dank and musty refuge from the blazing, blinding sun, this place is the battleground for the creatures 
of the dark. Today, a Brown Recluse crept in from the heat, and knew at once that this wooden cove was a dangerous oasis. A bland wasp nest lay dormant, nestled high against the ceiling, an artifact of last week's war which shook this very shed. The odours of their carcasses still emanated about, the corpses lay sporadically upon the workbench and floor. It was then that the Recluse caught the scent, the Queen of the Darkest Corner reigned from her tangled, sticky palace above. He knew she sensed him too, and that it was now or never to claim the throne of this coveted shadow kingdom. She was a stone in her web, scarcely moving but to breathe. The Recluse knew his presence was felt, but he crept up behind her anyway. He forced back his urge to gag at the stench of the urine-soaked threads upon which the fat Widow
was perched. As he closed in on the last few millimetres, the Widow made her move. She turned with terrifying speed and confidence, but the recluse was ready as well. She planted her deadly kiss just above his right fang, and he planted his on her left. They tasted the bitter gall of foreign venoms and held still that way for time unending. The menacing hiss of deadly toxins being pumped from flesh to flesh rang deep into their souls. The stunned Recluse would succumb first to the venom and tumble six feet to cold stone floor below. He knew his time for death was soon, and that his short future would be defined by his pain. Despite this, he smiled, because even though he'd soon die, she was already dead, and wouldn't know it 'till tomorrow.
of the dark. Today, a Brown Recluse crept in from the heat, and knew at once that this wooden cove was a dangerous oasis. A bland wasp nest lay dormant, nestled high against the ceiling, an artifact of last week's war which shook this very shed. The odours of their carcasses still emanated about, the corpses lay sporadically upon the workbench and floor. It was then that the Recluse caught the scent, the Queen of the Darkest Corner reigned from her tangled, sticky palace above. He knew she sensed him too, and that it was now or never to claim the throne of this coveted shadow kingdom. She was a stone in her web, scarcely moving but to breathe. The Recluse knew his presence was felt, but he crept up behind her anyway. He forced back his urge to gag at the stench of the urine-soaked threads upon which the fat Widow
was perched. As he closed in on the last few millimetres, the Widow made her move. She turned with terrifying speed and confidence, but the recluse was ready as well. She planted her deadly kiss just above his right fang, and he planted his on her left. They tasted the bitter gall of foreign venoms and held still that way for time unending. The menacing hiss of deadly toxins being pumped from flesh to flesh rang deep into their souls. The stunned Recluse would succumb first to the venom and tumble six feet to cold stone floor below. He knew his time for death was soon, and that his short future would be defined by his pain. Despite this, he smiled, because even though he'd soon die, she was already dead, and wouldn't know it 'till tomorrow.
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