Tag Archives: arachnophobia

Challenge: Legal Theft: Unwanted Visitor (391 words)


An involuntary squeal leaps from her lips, and she stumbles back, nearly slips, throws a hand out to steady herself against the wall.  She quickly retracts that hand.  It’s too near him, too vulnerable.  Her hands fly to cover what needs to be covered, to pull back all that she can away from him.

“Do you mind!” she sputters.

He makes no response.

“I should smash you,” she rails.  “I hate how you creep up on me like that.”

He scrabbles against the wall.  Scared by her tirade?  No.  It’s the water that’s making him skittish.

“I’m not helping you,” she assures him.  She tries to carry on with her business, but that feeling of being watched, of not knowing the whereabouts of her watcher keeps her turning around to look over her shoulder to the corner where he struggles against the current.

The footholds are few, but he manages.  How does he manage?  No, never mind.  She’d rather not know.  He pushes towards her.  And what can she do to prevent him?

She eyes the loofah at her feet.  She can’t not finish washing herself.  That would be ridiculous.  He’s still quite far away.  A quick squirt of body wash and a quick rub, all the while keeping her eyes on her guest, making sure he doesn’t come too close.  What will she do if he comes to close?  Scream, probably.  Slip and fall maybe.

He’s still against the wall.  He’s still struggling when she lets the water catch at her body, each bit in turn rather than standing under the torrent where she’ll be dangerously in range of his swing, of his bite.  Would he—can he bite?  It doesn’t matter.

Consciously keeping her arm as far away from him as possible, she reaches out and turns the water off.  She jerks the curtain aside, scrambles out onto the bath mat, and wraps the waiting towel around her body before facing her unwanted observer, with a little more bravado now that they aren’t sharing the same space.

“Fine,” she hisses.  “I’m giving you a second chance to live.  You keep away from my shower,” she demands.  “Stop bothering me.”  The growled threat wavers hollowly, “I won’t be merciful next time.”

She jerks the curtain closed.

“Spiders,” she shudders and leaves the bathroom to him, shutting the door behind her.

The Babbling Buzzard stole this first line for her fiction piece this week.  Go check it out!  The thief lord will also post links to all of our legal theft pieces here.