Months after returning, he still awoke at night sweat-drenched with lingering dreams of the terrors that had kept him awake in the Amazon. Spiders that lay eggs under your skin. Parasites that swim up your urethrae. Frogs that paralyse you with venom.
He inspected the bite on his hand. The guide had said it was nothing, but it wasn't healing.
He poked it.
The scab moved. Broke.
There was something underneath.
A thin black spindle emerged: a spider's leg.
He awoke breathless. A dream. Thank God. He turned to his wife lying beside him. Eight black beady eyes stared back.
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Blood Bank Security System by M.D. Smith IV"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="The Attic Door by B.G. Smith"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Off of the Screen by Alethea Paul"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>
sizes="(min-width: 1200px) 550px, (min-width: 750px) calc((100vw - 130px) / 2), calc((100vw - 50px) / 2)"
alt="Head-mounted Camera Discovered on Skull by S.F.J. Painter"
class="motion-reduce"
loading="lazy"
width="1200"
height="630"
>