This is the fourth of five unconnected short stories crossing Supernatural with other fictional universes. The other stories in the series can be found here.

Betaed by Solo. Thank you again!


by Sylvia

Sam was laughing, the bastard. Blood running down his face and bones crunching underneath his feet and one arm stuck to the wall and the giant black hairy corpse leaking something foul onto the ground right next to him – and Sam was laughing.

There was something wrong with that boy.

"This isn't funny, dude. Seriously."

"You should see your face, Dean!"

Yeah. Actually, Dean would have preferred a nice uplifting view like that to the sight of the huge-ass spider carcass, legs sprawled all over the cave. One of them was planted in the rock wall right in front of Dean's chest. He'd have to crawl under it to get out, and jeeze, there were claws at the end of it and it was as thick around as his wrist, and it glistened slightly in the beam of the flashlight and bristled with thick, spiky hairs that looked as sharp as needles.

This kind of shit just wasn't right.

"... when she clicked her mandibles you screamed like a little girl!"

'Mandibles'? Who the hell used a word like 'mandibles' when they'd just been all but beheaded by a freaking monster spider creature? "That was a manly bellow," Dean muttered. Even he could hear the lack of conviction in his tone.

So he didn't like spiders. Big fucking deal. Spiders were creepy. Fact of life. All those legs and eyes and the way they paralyzed their victims and left them hanging alive in a web while their insides slowly liquefied, to be sucked dry little by little.

And that had to have been the hugest fucking spider in all of history, ever. Larger than a freakin' pka.

"Yeah, well," Sam said, suspiciously solemn. "Don't worry, big brother. She can't hurt you now, so come over here and give me a hand with this webbing stuff. My fragile flower."

Dean would so get him for this. Later, though. First, they had to get out of here.

Still. "Don't call it 'she', alright? Just don't."

"The creepy little guy called her his Dark Lady."

"Yeah well, the creepy little guy was batshit insane, in case you hadn't noticed."

He'd also tried to stab Sam from behind with what looked to be a rusty sword, probably one of those just lying around on the ground with the bones and the rags and stuff (just how old had this thing been, anyway?). Dumb move, because creepy little not-exactly-human guy hadn't been immune to silver any more than his creepy huge-ass monster.

Sam had managed to get pretty much his entire arm stuck in the webbing that covered the wall. Turned out Dean's knife stuck to the stuff pretty well, too, so after wrenching it free once, he just sliced through the fabric of Sam's jacket instead.

This stuff was vicious. They'd been damn lucky the silver bullets had worked. Or maybe it had been the holy water, or the shotgun load of rocksalt to the torso, or the machete wounds, or even Sam shouting at the thing in Latin. Or any combination thereof.

Hold on a sec. Sam shouting at it in Latin? Like they knew any exorcisms for ginormous Godzilla spiders?

"Sammy. What was that you were shouting at it – the exorcism for spirits trapped in herds of cattle?"

"Uh, no. No, that was – that was an improvisation based on the, uhm –"

"Yeah, right. Admit it, Sammy. You were just as freaked as I was."

"No I wasn't." But Sam had on his innocent face, all wide-open big oh-believe-me-I'm-so-trustworthy puppy eyes and harmless, I-have-no-idea-who-put-black-foodcoloring-in-your-toothpaste expression.

Dean gave him an appropriately disgusted look, and Sam tore free of the wall at last, leaving a good part of his second-best jacket behind.

Fucking spider.

It had eaten kids, too. There were a couple of pint-sized skeletons right over by the exit. Fucking spider –

"Dean. What the hell?"

Dean followed Sam's gaze to one of the dead spider's legs. The limb was curled up almost beneath the bulk of its body, but even so, the metallic gleam around one of the claws was impossible to miss.

Fucking spider wore jewellery? Or was that some kind of spell container? Had someone been controlling it?

"You know what?" Dean grabbed Sam and dragged him out of the cave, into the blessedly fresh air. "I don't even want to know. Let's just burn the sucker and get the hell out of here."

(Lord of the Rings)


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