The Fate of Her Mate

After she mated with him–Widow realized that Walker was remaining in her presence far longer than she desired. He annoyingly remained–up above, watching, waiting–his eight eyes observing her while she in turn watched him. She no longer had need for him–her offspring were already growing in her abdomen; his job was done. What was he waiting for? She didn’t need him to be a father, she didn’t need him as a protector–she was more than capable of protecting herself. As time passed she became more and more annoyed with him. He perched there, not moving, not eating, not saying a word–just staring. With each passing moment her patience with him evaporated to the point she wished him dead. She wanted him dead. She needed him dead and this need was so strong she methodically made her way to where he sat, sad and lonely with his desire to be wanted and needed so obvious in his eyes. She would never need him and she would never want him. With one quick movement she pounced and her fangs pierced his back. Walker didn’t resist while her venom flowed into his bloodstream. Content with his poisoned fate, he almost looked relieved while he awaited his inevitable demise. She had no wish to eat him–she only wanted to kill him and that is what she did. Widow watched Walker’s lifeless body tumble to the ground below, his legs curled up and lifeless and she made a crooked smile with her fangs. Silly fool. He could’ve saved himself. All he had to do was leave. Why didn’t he leave? Her empathetic mood was quickly replaced by more important priorities. 

“Hi,” said a voice nearby. “My name is Flutter.” Widow looked to see beautiful black and yellow wings flapping and admired how lovely and delicious she looked. “What’s your name?” 

“I’m Widow,” she said. “You have such gorgeous wings. Perhaps you could visit for a spell.” 

“I would very much like that,” Flutter said. “I’ll come right over.”