What Is That Under My Bed?

A gawdy, old, woman with stringy gray hair and an ancient, wrinkled face sat in front of a blaring TV. Her bitter eyes small, her tight, thin lips cracked and blue. A scrawny long haired cat, with hair just as gray and stringy, slept in her lap. The old woman had a constant angry frown and her stockings were loose around her skinny hairy legs. The light from the TV bounced around a dark musty room. A room cluttered with a random collection of useless objects.

With a disagreeable tone she mumbled and grunted and anxiously got up from her couch. The cat clumsily dismounted onto the floor and attentively followed the old woman as she scurried down the hall and into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen the cat circled around it's empty food bowl and cried out. But, the gawdy ole woman ignored it's cries.

She pulled a cup from a cabinet and filled it with cheap yellow wine. She stared at the sad, starving cat and took a gulp from her cup.

"Worthless piece of shit.' she said to the cat.

'You wouldn't be so hungry if you ate rats like you're suppose to."

The cat lowered it's head and walked out of the kitchen. The old woman took another sip of her wine and followed the cat down the hall. A scratching noise began in the walls, like rats scratching on wood.

"See!' she hollered with frustration

'Goddamn rats in the walls." She rushed back to the kitchen and grabbed a broom then proceeded to bang and strike at the walls and the corners of the hall until the noise stopped.

The old woman mumbled and with her glass of wine settled back onto the couch, her small black eyes fixed back onto the TV set. The cat sulkenly laid in a dusty corner and tried to ignore it's hunger pangs. Its eyes kept transfixed on the ugly woman finally, gradually, closing them.

Many moments passed and the old woman fell asleep, her head leaned forward, her glass of wine tipping over. Suddenly, a loud crash and the woman jolted awake, her glass tipped over onto the floor and wine ran into the cracks.

"God Dammit." she said and instantly looked at the cat.

The cat looked back at her just as startled. They stared at each other very inquisitively and listened. Another loud crash came from her bedroom, followed by the familiar scratching in the walls. The old woman got up from the couch half drunk, half asleep and staggered to a gun cabinet and retrieved a shot gun and loaded it.

She stood quietly and listened again. More noise came, a rustling, and she slowly followed it to her bedroom, the shot gun in her hand, her small eyes now bulged.
She called out "Who's there?"

Another crashing noise responded from the bedroom. She cocked the shotgun and peeped through the door. The room was dark but she could see her bed and it was moving slightly as if something was pushing it from underneath. She flipped on the light and clearly saw the bed bounce and move back and forth. The rustling noise became louder.

The bed banged against the wall and a framed picture crashed onto the floor.

"What in Christ?' she said to herself.

'Who's there? I'm gonna shoot, you son of a bitch."

The banging bed stopped and the old woman began to smell a putrid, horrific aroma like a billion rotten eggs. She slowly walked closer to the bed and it started to move and bang again. Without hesitation she fired a shot at the shadow underneath the bed. The blast violently cut into the bed and the wall. Splintered wood, metal and, cloth flew outward in every direction. Her ears began to ring, she shook her head, then, focused her eyes through the debris to examine the wreckage.

A screeching, shrieking, brutal scream sounded out and the broken bed, swung apart. A gigantic bulbulous spider, black and fuzzy and with tiny red eyes, ascended from a large black cavity. The creature lunged upward and held an ominous stance in front of the old hag. The woman seized up and dropped the gun. Another blast shattered a hole in the ceiling. The woman's eyes crossed and she clutched her chest. Her face contorted. The huge throbbing spider made a shriek that rattled the room. A large wound on it's side sizzled spurted blood and, gurgled. The old woman tried to reach for the shot gun to finish off the awful spider but, she only fell to the floor. A million strokes of pain pierced through her torso. Her face turned white and she died in a shivering fit.

The huge spider lingered before it's own death, screaming, as it tossed blood and putrid liquid onto the walls and ceiling finally, collapsing down into the dark tunnel from whence it came.

A few moments passed and the cat with a curious notion peeked through the door of the room. He paused for a moment then, with the sense of an investigator, began to move swiftly around the room, sniffing and examining everything carefully and with precise method. He reached the edge of the dark abyss and peered into it and sniffed. Familiar and even bored with the stench he turned and stared at the dead body of the old woman. A hunger pang leapt in his tight stomach. The cat approached the corpse and sniffed from toe to head from head to toe. He jumped on her torso and sniffed and licked making his way up her chest and to her ugly old face. He sniffed, sniffed, like a connoisseur, and soaked up all the flavors. He licked his lips and pawed at the old hags face then bit and tugged at a flimsy eye lid.

The End.