text: (WP) Follow the Spiders You know what they say, don’t you? They say not to kill spiders, because they take care of other pests. But it turns out that the sentient spider race that had taken over our planet were protecting us from an even bigger threat. The spiders were few and far between, in the decade after the war. Instead of assimilating, humanity decided to fight. As a result, both sides were nearly decimated. It wasn’t until afterward that we knew what we were up against, what the spiders had tried to protect us from. The colony swooped down on the planet like a plague, a dark blur of wings, teeth, and claws, and before anyone knew what was happening, they began to feast, blood and gore and viscera spraying the air with an iron tang. Screams and the sounds of ripping and tearing mixed with the cries of the giant bats to create a chorus straight out of a nightmare. I was one of the few who managed to get away; I found shelter in an abandoned warehouse. Too late, I heard the scuttling of many legs and the clicking of mandibles, and before I realized what happened, I was surrounded by the giant arachnids. “What are you doing here?” One of them said in mangled English, the words coming out thick behind its teeth. “This is territory of The Harvestmen! And you are a human!” The word sounded vaguely familiar, but I just shook my head, struck dumb in the face of these unlikely inhabitants. “I just wanted to get away from the bats--” Muffled, derisive laughter moved through the group, and I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to lash out at them. Like the bats they fought against, they could kill me before I could get a weapon out of my pocket. It would not do to lose my cool. “In all fairness,” One of them clicked, coming so close I could see my reflection in its many eyes, “We did try to warn you. But humanity hasn’t changed, even after all these years. Always ready for a fight, for a threat.” The spider snorted, a surprisingly human sound. “Tell me why we shouldn’t leave you for the bats,” It added, and I cringed. “The Harvestman doesn’t take in any humans, unless they’re willing to work.” That name sounded so familiar; I knew I’d heard it before, but I couldn’t place it. “Take me to your leader. Please. So I can talk to him.” The spiders backed away from me, conferring in a series of hisses and clicks. After the five longest minutes of my short life, they came back to me. “Follow us. We’ll take you to him.” \*\* I followed the spiders through the dark warehouse, the only spots of color the flickering florescent lights above us. They led me up several sets of crumbling stone steps. One of the spiders shrank before my eyes, slipping into an open doorway. Soft, murmured words I couldn’t make out. The spider stepped aside and I was pushed through the doorway, forced to my knees. “Welcome to my humble abode, child.” The first human voice I’d heard thus far broke the silence, male and raspy. “If you’re asking for a place here, you’re going to have to work.” The man who spoke was middle-aged, with salt and pepper hair and a goatee. The first expression that came to mind was ‘silver fox’, when I looked at him. He wore a pair of glasses, magnifying his bright brown eyes, and he was clothed in a dark sweater, jeans, and loafers. “Welcome to the base of The Harvestmen.