“Wub, wub, wuuub!”
Despair was a pitch-black, shudder-inducing sensation, like someone clutching the space beneath your heart and tearing it loose. Blaine was tightly bound in delicate spider silk that fluttered softly before his eyes—prettier even than a sage’s gift—his mouth stuffed shut as he was forced to taste that thing called “despair” in its most brutal form.
“Hah… so it’s finally happening. Must’ve been hell holding out this long.”
Those eyes, coldly burning as they swept over Blaine’s body suspended in midair, were unmistakably the eyes of a predator. Instinctive terror flooded his system. His knees shook violently, icy sweat trickled down his spine. As if amused by how clearly Blaine’s fear showed, the spider—now with eyes darkened to pitch black—half-lidded his gaze and smiled languidly.
“I’ve been wanting to sink my fangs into that delicious-looking nape of yours right away.”
P-please, spare me!
Honestly, Blaine wanted to praise himself for not having pissed himself already. It was terrifying enough to make him foam at the mouth and pass out. It wasn’t that Blaine was especially weak-hearted or cowardly—this was simply the most natural reaction of prey confronted by a predator. How had he not realized it sooner? Those black eyes, that overwhelming pressure pouring out of him. Even with his eyes squeezed shut, he could feel it…!
Crack—
A branch lying at the spider’s feet snapped under his leisurely step. The sharp little sound jolted Blaine’s drifting consciousness halfway back. He forced his paralyzed body to struggle, but the silk didn’t budge in the slightest. Watching the futile resistance, the spider let out a small, amused chuckle.
The white, silvery hair framing his milky-pale face still possessed a beauty capable of captivating anyone. It looked utterly different from the fragile, pitiful, almost lovable appearance he’d shown earlier, though. His heavy-lidded eyes, opened only halfway, the black irises partially hidden beneath his lids—it gave off a strangely sensual impression. It was deeply alluring.
He’d looked so slender before. Even that faintly trembling voice had been an act.
“H-how can this be…! I was just trying to help!”
“Hm? Is that a problem? I was hungry.”
There was nothing inherently wrong with that. As a predator born to hunt and consume prey by any means, there was no moral issue at all. The problem was that Blaine’s personal safety was now at stake—a very serious problem. He exhaled shakily, forcing down his trembling breath as he tried to calm himself. He felt like he’d scream himself hoarse and faint at any moment, but that really would be the end. He wanted to struggle somehow. After all, didn’t they say that even if you’re dragged into a tiger’s den, you live if you keep your wits about you?
Instead of launching into a completely useless debate about a spider’s predatory instincts and moral philosophy, Blaine decided to beg as pitifully as he could. Using the same sympathy-evoking tactic that had fooled him earlier.
“Uh, um, p-please spare me. I mean, I probably don’t taste that good. I’m big, but my bones are thick too, so there’s not much meat… I’m not tender either…”
“Hmmm.”
“L-look at these muscles, okay? My skin’s rough too… What if you chip a tooth while eating me? That’d be a huge loss, right?”
Blaine rambled desperately in a muffled voice barely audible beneath the silk. Apparently finding him rather interesting, the spider—who’d looked ready to pounce and gulp him down in one bite—tilted his head slightly, wearing a lazy smile.
“That’s fine. Actually, I’m into big, muscular bodies.”
“Ah… I’m screwed….”
The honest thought slipped straight out of his mouth, and his utterly hopeless expression laid his condition bare even more clearly than words could. The spider made a oh? well, look at that sort of face. A beautiful hand drifted forward, gently stroking Blaine’s tanned face.
“I really do like it… in every way.”
The massive body dangling in the air had its limbs stretched far apart, like a creature about to be drawn and quartered, bound tightly in layers of webbing. As a result, the muscles in his arms, legs, and chest were drawn taut, bulging visibly beneath his thin, tight work uniform.
Isn’t that outfit a bit small? The fabric was stretched so tight it looked ready to rip apart at any moment. His chest already jutted out thickly enough—but even the grooves carved clearly across his flat abdomen were plainly visible. And right above the gentle slope that curved from his collarbone down toward his belly, there was something very small and sharply pointed that was unmistakably…
If only the situation were a little different. The spider, who’d just been thinking that far, smacked his lips regretfully. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford to waste more time. Contrary to his leisurely exterior, he was nearing his limit as well.
“There’s no point resisting and wasting your strength. I’m hungry.”
Of course, Blaine understood painfully well that it was pointless. Once caught in a spider’s web, there was no escape. Resistance would only hasten his death. Giving up and accepting an easy end was the only solution.
But he couldn’t just give up and die.
As death loomed right in front of him, Blaine became surprisingly calm. Finishing his assessment of the situation, he ground his teeth together, forcing his chattering jaw muscles to still, and took deep breaths again and again. If he was going to die, he wouldn’t go alone. There was a good saying for that—mutual destruction. And Blaine had a fine weapon of his own: his stinger.
The face, beautiful as moonlight settling over the land, was now right before him. Soft flesh brushed his shoulder. Plump lips pressed against the back of his neck. Soon, the sharp fangs inside those honey-soaked lips would pierce his skin and inject venom. Then he’d suck out his bodily fluids with relish. If Blaine was unlucky—if he was dealing with a truly vicious one—it wouldn’t stop there. He’d be chewed up and swallowed whole, crunch by crunch.
Suppressing the madness-inducing terror, Blaine held his breath and waited—then released his transformation. And in the next instant, he drove his stinger straight into the spider’s abdomen.
***
“Ah—ugh…!”
It was a night so silent even the chirping of insects sounded distant. A scream of agony echoed through the moonlit forest, where pale light spilled across the grass. Harsh, ragged breathing followed. Then, after some time, cutting through the panting, a low, gentle, almost tender voice was heard.
“Blaine. You told me kindly earlier, didn’t you? That you’re a honeybee.”
“Ugh—no, I—agh!”
“When you deal with a honeybee, of course you’d watch out for the stinger first. Don’t you think?”
I don’t look stupid enough to charge in without any countermeasures, do I? It was a whisper so affectionate you’d mistake it for someone speaking to their lover. Lips rubbed softly against Blaine’s nape, teasing him with warm breath—it really did feel like the way one treats a beloved partner. Of course, while adopting that sweet demeanor, the spider was currently gripping Blaine’s stinger in his right hand with enough force to make the tendons stand out.
“Ah—it hurts… it’s being pulled, it hurts….”
“Ah, right. Maybe I should just pull it out? It keeps being such a nuisance.”
“Sn—no… please….”
It felt like lightning struck his head. Pull it out? That was insane! Don’t even think about it! Just kill me cleanly instead! Blaine shook his head frantically. When he felt warm, ticklish breath accompanied by a soft giggle at his nape, a chest-aching wave of regret welled up inside him. He should’ve just stayed still and died quickly. Now he was going to be tortured to death.
Everyone back at the Hive, my beloved home, my revered Queen… goodbye. There were still so many flower fields I never got to visit.
Completely giving up, Blaine shut his eye. At that very moment, his already hole-riddled work uniform finally gave out under his violent struggling, ripping apart with a loud rrrip.
“Ng—?!”
“Huh…?”
The torn, blown-open uniform fluttered uselessly to the ground. Startled by the ripping sound, the spider—who’d had his face buried against Blaine’s neck—tilted his head slightly, then locked eyes with something small and red, like a piece of fruit, and let out a stupid, bewildered noise. There, atop Blaine’s broad, pale-brown chest, sat a faintly colored ornament—light enough in hue that it looked as though raspberries and apricots had been blended together and brushed softly into place.
