text: The moon never set anymore. All day and all night it hung above the red sky, flecks of its shattered surface breaking off into the cosmos. There was always just enough light from it. Just enough. Enough light to see, enough for plans to grow, enough for things to feel almost alright. Almost. Things were almost normal. The dust storms were no longer a daily catastrophe. Meager crops could be grown from the soil, and it rained just enough to make wells a backup instead of a primary source of water. Wild beasts with a taste for people roamed the wasteland, but they never rolled into town anymore. They stayed outside most of the time. Trade was almost regular again. Men from other places came and went, selling their wares. Men with different skin and different faces. Men and women who weren’t human but were close enough. Polite enough. They’d come selling food and crafts and machines, they sold things that one would expect to be sold in market stalls. It was almost normal. Almost. The killings had started again, just like before. First it was a pet, a dog found wrapped in silk. Then it was a vagrant, the fluids drained from his body. Then another and another until people were being found in packs of six or seven, all of them sucked dry, all of them wrapped in the same silk with care, stuck up in the alleyways and the back lots. Hidden. Saved for later. There was no longer any doubt about it. People lived in fear once more, after 7 long years. The Queen of Spiders had returned. Everybody knew who they should ask. He got rid of her the first time, they would all whisper in secret, he could do it again, couldn’t he? He drove her away last time, drove her away every time. But that was just it. He only drove her away. People doubted him because that was all he could ever do was drive her away, push her out for a few years. Every time she came back. Eventually she always came back. Men in bars bragged that they could do a better job, but in secret they admitted they never could. They were afraid of her. They knew he had to be the one to do it. Nobody dared ask him to go do it, though. They all knew he was already on it. Donnie went though the same motions he always did. Find the bullets, not the normal ones, the ones made of tungsten. Count them out, seven is enough, bring an extra just in case. Find the gun, oil it, and make sure all the parts still work. Load it, test it, and make sure the safety is on when it gets holstered. Find the vest, find the hat, get dressed and go get a drink before you head out there. Don’t get pissed when they call you The Dawn. The man behind the bar was elated to see him. “Well if it isn’t The Dawn himself! How ya been, Donnie?” Donnie gave a half hearted thumbs up before asking for a bottle of the usual. “Judging by the gun, I take it you’re headed out there to deal with her again? Give the spider a run for her money?” “Yep” Donnie grumbled, not wishing to have the same conversation for what felt like the hundredth time. His monosyllabic response left the man working the bar at an awkward loss for words, allowing Donnie to finish his drink in peace. He eventually stood up, payed his tab and began to head for the door when the barman grabbed him by the shoulder. “Listen man...I gotta know. How are you gonna find her? I mean I know you’re gonna find her and you’re gonna drive her back but...but how ya gonna find her? We never find her when we go out looking!” the barman stammered, just a hint of fear in his eyes. “Finding her ain’t the hard part. Doing what needs done is the hard part,” Donnie replied before heading back out the door. The moon hung above the town in the red sky, casting almost enough light for things to be normal. Almost. Visibility didn’t matter much though. He knew where he was going. She always waited for him in the same spot. He started the long march to the edge of town, past the people in the streets, past the children clutching their mother’s skirts. Past row after row of dirty wooden homes and paddocks full of livestock eating scrub grass with both their heads, three eyed dogs and saber tooth rats tied to posts nearby to keep guard. He had done this a hundred times. He knew the path. He knew what to say to get her to leave. What to do to make sure she left these poor people alone. The house was easy to miss. The windows were broken and the door hung lazy off the hinges from being kicked in too many times. The vibrant paint had long ago been blasted off by the sand storms, leaving behind the dull, blackened timber. A faint smell of sex and alcohol lingered in the air, the ghost of former inhabitants. She was here. Walking the halls brought back the same awful memories it always did. The laughter. The drinking. The kissing. The embraces. Floorboards creaked in agony at being forced to bear weight again. Paintings followed every move as he went deeper into the house. The sex. The love. It was all coming back, back in waves like the tide. The anger. The betrayal. The beckoning to come back and the reluctant agreement to do so. It was all here. All those years were pent up here. A wretched archive. The Sex. The Venom. The Addiction. It was all here. She was in the same spot she always was, an old love seat, draped in spider silks to the point of being unrecognizable. A throne fit for a queen to recline on, and recline she did, sprawled out as if she had not a care in the world. Lying naked in repose as if there weren’t corpses on the floor. As if the past hadn’t walked in the front door with every intention of bringing her harm. She was still beautiful in that horrible twisted way. The long blonde hair, the shining blue eyes, the curvaceous figure with perfect breasts and a pudgy belly that bore a red and black hour glass mark. Long, thin spider legs extended from her back, toying idly with lengths of silk. Fangs could be seen as she opened her mouth for the occasional sigh. “I’m sick of this Jeannie.” Donnie snarled as he finally entered her room. The Spider Queen sat up, smiling coyly at him but making no move to stand up. “Aw, you came back. Come here Dawn, talk to me. Tell me what you’ve been up to, let me take your pains away...” She sang, beckoning with an outstretched hand. “It’s Donnie. And No, I’m not here for that. It’s time for you to go. You’ve done enough.” She frowned at his response, pouting like a child before standing up on her arachnid legs and moving to him. “I don’t wanna go. I’m not done with you this time Donnie,” she gasped, grabbing at his jacket, “I’m so lonely out here and I need you. I need somebody to play with.” “I’m not playing this anymore, I’m done, you hear me,” he snapped, placing a hand on the gun. “I don’t need you anymore, I’m walking away. It’s over. Leave these people alone.” Her playful expression faded entirely. Now her face spoke of anger and mockery. “Oh but you do need me. You need me because deep down you know I’m all you’ve got. Because no matter how much you get hurt you’ll come back. Because admit it, Donnie, You like this. You ENJOY it. You know deep down that whenever I call you’re gonna come crawling right back here because you NEED me. Because deep down, you and I both know you’ll never let go because you love m-“ BANG A casing and a body hit the floor. Both could be heard from miles off. For the rest of the night, the town was quiet. It was finally over. The Spider Queen was gone, and she was never coming back. The moon still shined with almost enough light. There was still just enough rain, and the sky was still blood red. People were living with what was almost a sense of normalcy. And if you walked out to the edge of town, and stood by the old farm house, you could almost hear somebody crying. Almost.