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</div></div><br/><br/>It often seemed difficult for Amadan to believe that the failed meeting at the cafe with his mother happened almost a year ago, in Seville. Since that time, Amadan's life had become a tempestuous miasma of unpredictable changes and sudden discord. Amadan had shared a close, loving relationship with his boyfriend, Tomás Barrientos, until their arrival in America. Then for some unknown reason Tomás started withholding affection. He became withdrawn, distant and almost despondent. At first, Amadan thought his boyfriend was just homesick, missing his family in Spain. When there was no improvement in his mood, Amadan thought it might be time to seek professional help.<br/><br/>While attempting to soothe his lover, he ignored his own worries that the gypsy curse upon him might have created this whole mess. Amadan walked on eggshells around their apartment for months while he tried to offer Tomás comfort, reassuring him everything would turn out for the best. He kept believing in the dream until the day he arrived home after performing at a wedding he'd been hired to cover. On a nightstand in their bedroom he discovered a handwritten suicide note from Tomás. Amadan still remembered the way the curtains were blowing out through the open terrace door, and how the chorus of sirens from the ambulance and police cars sounded their cries of distress on the streets below their 14th story apartment.<br/><br/>Amadan read his lover's words in the note, but already knew he was gone without ever seeing the broken body of his lover or the bloody gore his mangled skull made as it pooled upon the concrete. He didn't have to see his lover's sightless gaze at a starry sky to know that the curse stole him away and his heart was torn in two. The police report concluded that Tomás' death was suicide, and that onlookers described that he jumped from the railing of their balcony. Amadan knew Tomás had died the moment he met him in Spain, after his family found out that their son was marimé ...unclean and dead to them because he was a homosexual and lying in bed with a<i>gadjo.</i><br/><br/>Their curse upon Amadan not only trapped Tomas in his mental suffering, but transformed Amadan into a monster.<br/><br/>In the months preceding Tomás' death, Amadan began to notice some disturbing personal physiological changes taking place. His voice was changing, becoming deep and gravelly. One night he was visiting North Miami Beach with Tomás, and he was able to point out buildings in the distance as if it were daylight. He could see clearly for a mile. In the dark. Amadan also saw human hearts pumping blood through their bodies as he passed by people on the sidewalk. It didn't only terrify him to see that, but the overwhelming sense of hunger he felt that accompanied it. It wasn't just<i>any </i>hunger, but the need to<i>hunt</i>, to subdue, and drink from the vessels of human bodies until they were turned into a dried out husk.<br/><br/>He could hear and feel people in the apartments around theirs, could sense their physique and whether they'd be the right kind of nourishment for him. Amadan could also judge how long it would take for one human to cross paths with him. How he could lure them off to a deserted area, pounce on them and quickly dispatch them. Worst of all, was the dark voice that clawed at the inside of his skull until he yielded to it, the one that urged him to sate his unnatural and constant hunger. Resistance and ignoring the voice wasn't enough, not until Amadan smashed the bathroom mirror to splinters when he saw fangs where teeth used to be, and extra appendages sprout from places they shouldn't be.<i> <br/>
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And his eyes, his eyes.</i><br/><br/>There were at least four extra eyes instead of two human ones, that were shiny black and focused on Tomás as the source of his next meal. When Amadan smashed the mirror to no longer view the appalling sight of his monstrous form, Tomás had arrived to see a hysterically crying Amadan bleeding profusely from the cuts to his hands and arm. Except his lover wasn't crying about a mere hallucination, he was shouting at Tomás to<i> go away and to stay away from him</i>. Maybe those words had left their mark in Tomás' psyche. Perhaps his words were sharper and more deadly than the fangs that had sprouted from his jaw like hypodermic needles.<br/><br/>He never got to use those fangs on Tomás. He was gone forever. Lost to the curse.<br/><br/>Amadan left Florida behind in a new tiny home, something that Tomás and he had always dreamed of owning, and the mystery of the deaths of seven homeless people were never solved. The discovery of a mysterious trail of human carnage in the tent city had to be among the strangest phenomena seasoned veterans of the Miami-Dade Homicide Task Force ever experienced in nearly 20 years of homicide investigation. The detectives could not begin to rationalize or fathom the few witness reports from homeless individuals at the tent city that claimed to see a space alien with huge fangs and claws. Neither could they comprehend the autopsy results from the Dade County Medical Examiner. Each body suffered from massive exsanguination, and desiccation of the flesh, with no sign of the internal organs which seem to have vanished completely.<br/><br/>Only Amadan knew that the organs, muscles and connective tissue had been liquefied and drained out of the bodies when he fed and left behind their dried out human husks.<br/><br/>________________<br/><br/><br/>Amadan was begining to discover that there was truth to the quote,<i> 'the struggle is indeed real.'</i><br/><br/>Tony was as far from knowing what his hunger felt like as an astronaut free falling from space felt about surviving on Mars without oxygen. Amadan was soon going to give him first hand experience with the negative results of his hunger as it hit an astronomical low without any relief.<br/><br/>Knowing that the detective was a sensitive of some sort,<b>Phoneutria </b><i>nigrivente</i>r instinctively communicated by using seismic communication. He literally picked up information from the environment and the people operating within it by tapping out signals with its legs, in an archaic morse code that was probably better served through speaking with other arachnids than human beings like Tony.<i>What did the spider discern? </i>That the other person in the interview room was not a rival spider, was not an enemy by any means, and that whatever it was may just be edible and worth pouncing on. Especially when Tony's heart began to pound harder, and panic rushed through his system as his fight or flight chemicals were switched on by his adrenal glands.<br/><br/><i>Run, Tony, run.</i><br/><br/>Catching the charming Louisianan detective happened in a blink of an eye, or eight to be exact. One moment Amadan was standing near the wall furthest away from the door, and a fraction of a second later he appeared right before Detective Tony Deschenes. His palm pressed against the opening door, and forcibly slammed it shut. The spider felt the vibrations of aroused fear blossoming like ragweed in the interview room, could smell it eking from Tony's pores. Amadan's face hadn't changed but when he smiled, his teeth had lengthened, a pair hollowed out into sharpened points. He only wanted a tiny taste, he wouldn't devour Tony Deschenes.<br/><br/><i>No not at all.</i><br/><br/>His other hand, formed a fist, a fist with sharpened talon-like claws on it and it moved lightning quick to grab Tony's hair so that his head was arched back and his throat was exposed.<br/><br/>Amadan spoke darkly into Tony's mind. "Don't. you. dare, scream. I won't hurt you, and you won't die. I just want you to feel me for a while."<br/><br/>In preparation of acquiring a taste for the detective, Amadan held him still almost lovingly before quickly sinking his fangs into the muscle between Tony Deschenes' neck and shoulder, his envenomation a mere fraction of what the seven homeless people received. Amadan's venom lacked the paralytic punch or the digestive enzymes that would completely dissolve his innards to a pulpy mush that Amadan found suitable to dine upon. No, this gift was good for about 8-12 hours, and boy oh boy would anyone pay cold hard cash to attain the kind of sexual stamina Tony was getting for free.<br/><br/>Because Detective Deschenes' cock would remain dripping and uncomfortably erect for that long.<br/><br/>In the meantime, Amadan considered the hapless detective, a catch and release. Resuming his position in the chair, the taste of human flesh was just enough to tide Amadan over until he was free to go home.<br/><br/>If he wasn't released after all was said and done,<b>Phoneutria</b><i>nigriventer </i>would show no more mercy.