The silk vibrated under her feet. Gentle reverberations that woke her up and alerted her to somethings presence in her home. Hesitantly she un-tucked a leg from under her, reaching out to settle it's claws on the vibrating line. The thrum of something living, a gentle drum beat as it struggled in her silken snare. Like a moth to a flame it drew her in, slowly she crept toward the source of the disturbance.

Up, up, up... light gradually filtered into her eyes. A noonday sun shone over head, but her attention was captured by her prey. An ant. Black shiny skin gleamed at her as it struggled, but only succeeded in tangling itself more. As if it sensed the looming danger, it's antennae jerked frantically in all directions, legs and pincers squirming against her lines. She hesitated briefly, fangs nearly dripping with a ready supply of venom, before lurching forward with a speed that didn't quite match her bulbous body.

Soon the poor ant was trapped under her, heald tightly in her embrace as she avoided it's dangerous mouth and sank her fangs into it's softer abdomen. It wriggled all the more, but as soon as she had pumped enough of her poison in, she set about wrapping her soon-to-be meal in more of her fine, silken thread...

Blearily, Megan cracked an eye open. Something woke her from a rather deep slumber. Some distant sound that didn't bother repeating. She waited for a moment in silence, before cracking the other eye open and angling both toward her bedside clock. 

2 am.

What the hell. A mouthful of grumble all ready to go, the twenty seven year old started to sit up, when she realized that one side of her face was covered in semi dried saliva, and there was fuzz in her mouth. Her pillow was equally slobbered on. Had she been chewing on her pillow? ....nope. She wasn't even going to admit that to herself. 

She attempted to draw her hand out from under said pillow in order to wipe her face clean of evidence, but found that she was stuck. Or, rather, the pillow was stuck to her. "The hell...?" Voice husky from having just woken up, the confused mutant sat up in bed and eyeballed the spectacle. 

Both of her hands were glued to her pillow. It refused to let her go, no matter how hard she tugged. Like a Chinese finger trap, it held on tightly, even when she hooked it around her foot and attempted to kick the damn thing off. It took two feet and a good amount of cursing to pry the pillow away, and to her surprise when it left, it trailed little bursts of silk after it. She punted it across the room, stared at her hands suspiciously, and decided to go get a glass of milk to help wake herself up. 

To her horror, she also stuck to the doorknob. And the wall. And the light switch in the kitchen. An the fridge door. By the time she got her damn glass of milk, she didn't very well feel like drinking it anymore, but it was stuck to her goddamn hand anyway.

Obviously this was still part of her dream. Or another dream completely. Maybe she was sleep walking or something. With her mind settled firmly on the fact that the weird things happening couldn't really be real, she took her cup and a few napkins stuck to her other arm and the sock she didn't realize was stuck to her leg, and went back to bed. She'd wake up sooner or later and have a good laugh at such a weird dream. 

- - -

Six or so hours later, she woke again. Peering out from under the covers of her bed, she eyed the time and yawned. Throwing back the covers, the first thing Megan noticed was that she'd kicked her socks off at some point in the night, and that she'd drooled on her pillow again. The second thing she noticed was that she was free to move around without everything gluing itself to her for some reason. That settled it for her that she'd been dreaming earlier. Without another thought on the matter, she set about getting ready for the day, and managed not to notice any of the hand shaped silken prints left on the doors and walls all the way into the kitchen...

Shaded from the light by a rather large leaf, she watched her prey go about it's business from undercover. The Grasshopper was unaware of her presence so far. She'd been stealthy, sneaky, and cleaver; using foliage as cover and little gusts of wind to stifle the sound of her movement. Now, from her vantage point from above the insect, she had the perfect ambush point lined up.

It only had to move a little to the left... just... a... little... more...

The bug inched sideways, moving down the side of the leaf it was munching on, and into her line of fire. Her back legs tensed, front legs rose in preparation. Just as her prey got it's first mouthful of fresh new leaf, she leaped from her nook. A silken line sailed behind her-- her escape cord for if the plan failed, but it wouldn't be needed. She landed with perfect accuracy on her target, encasing it like a cage with her body and legs, and quickly drove her fangs into the soft flesh of its neck. Though it struggled, she venom was already invading its system, liquefying the softer tissue even while it still fought her. Greedily, she drank it up, her many eyes surveying the area around her while she feasted...

Groaning, Megan woke again. It had been a few weeks since the first strange dream with no other incidents. She'd put it from her mind easily. What was one weird vision anyway, right? People had weird pillow-eating-dreams all the time.

Cracking her eyes open to peek at her clock this time, she was surprised when she also found that she could see the ceiling. And the wall behind her. And what she assumed was her pillow... and was that a leg? With a grunt of surprise, she sat bolt upright.

... and regretted it immediately. Her brain was assaulted with so many different visions of her room, from different angles, that she felt dizzy. What the hell was going on? And why the f*ck could she see herself in some of those images?! Holy Jesus, she looked terrible without makeup-- Shut up brain! More important things to worry about!

Unable to comprehend what the hell was going on, she squeezed her eyes shut, the two human eyes on her face that is. When that didn't help, she threw herself back down into her pillow and yanked the covers over her head. For some strange reason she could still see the end of her bed and the wall across from it, but that ended with she curled up under the blankets in a fetal position and buried her face under her pillow.

She didn't know what she had to have eaten to cause such a bizarre dream, but after about ten minutes of nearly smothering herself she managed to fall back asleep. When she woke up a few hours later she was relieved to find that she could only see what was directly in front of her. No more kaleidoscope vision.

Her claws hooked into the texture of the wall, finding purchase easily. Eight experienced limbs lifted her body up, inch by inch as she made her way toward the darkness of a corner. It was time to make a new web. Find a new home where she could anchor her brood and wait out the season. Other spiders were on the prowl, some hungry for spiderling. It was her duty to protect her babies, and the first step was staking out the prefect place for a web.

Carefully she scaled the wall. Once she was high enough, she set an anchor line and started the methodical process of spinning her web. Three lines quickly became six. Then nine. Then she wove a net through them until it was steady and sturdy enough for her to rest upon. The threads would give her young a place to grow, catch her meals, and warn her if any other predators approached.

Carefully, she positioned herself in the center of the web, body dangling from where four sturdy legs kept her rooted to the ceiling. Head lolling from one side to the other, Megan caught a glimpse of her bed from above through half lidded sleep filled eyes, not fully asleep but not yet awake.

Oh... she was having one of those flying dreams, then? She saw her toes wiggle beneath her, yawned, and closed her eyes again. She could deal with flying dreams. They were kinda cool.

---

WHAM

She was immediately alert when face met hardwood floor. Bright blue eyes flashed open, a colorful array of curses left her lips, and she pushed herself up into a sitting position.

She was on the floor next to her bed. Her blankets were ruffled and in a mess. She... rolled out of bed? So it seemed. Still, she'd hit the floor like she'd fallen off the ceiling. The clock across the room glared at her in angry red numbers. It was seven in the afternoon. She'd slept most of the day away. Groaning, the mutant pushed herself to her feet, scratching gently at her back (which was itchy as all hell for some reason) and headed for the bathroom.

Weeks passed, and the weirdness of the nighttime events gradually faded. What had started off as a series of weird, strangely real dreams became nothing but a distant memory. Life continued on as normally for Megan as it could, and she was content to forget about the whole thing.

That is until...

Frantic squeaking filled the night air. It mattered little to her, nor the mouse. Nothing would come to its aid save for other hungry creatures. With a strangely gentle grip she held her meal still, waiting for the poison she'd filled it with to take effect. It wasn't long until it stopped struggling entirely. The squeaks silenced forever. She hovered over the dead mouse, her thick, hairy legs nearly blocking it from view, and set about devouring her meal...

This time when Megan woke, she wasn't in her bed. She wasn't even in her room. It was cold and murky, and everything smelled like rot and literal shit. Yet, when she turned her head to get her bearings, she found that she was more or less lounging in a large, giant really, spider web. It was dark, but from the thin rays of light that filtered in from above, she could make out what was around her. She was in a sewer, if the smell and the unmistakable surroundings were anything to go off of.

The 'web' was littered with misshapen silk balls. Some the sizes of rats or... cats, maybe, but one was significantly larger. Her eyes fixed on it, and a morbid sense of curiosity filled her. Just where the hell was she? How had she gotten there? Deciding to end the 'is this real life' questions sooner rather than later, she pinched herself mercilessly on the arm. It hurt, and bruised, and f*uck she wasn't dreaming.

The next thing she noticed was that her nightshirt was stained in blotches of red and... green. Gross. She assumed the green and various black smudges were from however she managed to end up in a sewer. The red, though, she wasn't too sure about. It wasn't hers, seeing as she couldn't find a single wound on her person. There wasn't anyone else around, so.. that ruled out that. Which left... the large vaguely humane-shaped silk form in the far corner of the web.

Carefully, she inched her way closer to it until she could make out a few large, already dried red patches on the outer silken layers. That was enough evidence for her, screw investigating further.

Megan hauled ass off the web, out of the sewer, ditched the bloodied nighty in a dumpster and ran the rest of the way home in boxer shorts and a bra. It wasn't until she was home and standing in the bathroom that she finally got a good look at herself. Her front was stained pink, her cheeks and lips were crusted with little bits of dried blood, and her teeth were stained burgundy. Not to mention a strange lingering taste in her mouth that she couldn't quite place.

Pale, confused, and frankly, terrified, she promptly vomited everything in her stomach out into the toilet, scalded her body clean in the shower, and then spent the rest of the day brushing her teeth on repeat.

What the f*ck was going on?!