P R E V I O U S L Y I N
S P I D E R F I N G E R S
'Come along Elemeno,' announced the blue man arising, 'let's go see if He Who is Red has found that godawful Mr Lime.'
He Who is Red, the blue man, the big yellow baby, Vicky’s arm, Elemeno…Steph told him everything. She told him about everything save her compulsion to, ‘Woof!’
The nihilism of Soulwax’s Krack was blaring throughout the warehouse, the rabble of party goers threatening to drown out the Rock and Roll with whooping and excited screaming. Sarah and Bimpe had chosen to occupy space at the far end of the venue. It was far quieter there. Chit-chat with the painter Celeste Harrington could survive the din of Rock and Roll here, albeit barely.
Celeste took a long pull on her cigarette, ‘You do know,’ said the young lady in the beige Komodo, ‘that people are only aware of Spiderfingers because of the notoriety of his creators?’
'You do remember the whole busting me out of a psyche ward, right?' replied Steph.
‘I ain't messing about Missus, you can’t go to some poxy café and start writing?!’
Of course Steph let out a dog-like whimper.
Stephanie typed fast, faster than a certain mild mannered Metropolis alter-ego, she thought. Certainly there was struggle, but the incubation period had readied eight thousand plus words of healthy narrative offspring, and its mother couldn’t wait for the oncoming approval – the huge swathes of cyber visitors cooing and marvelling at the existence of new life. Of course, there was another part of her, a secret mentality, so knowing of what she had created but would not share with her limited approximation of maternity. Where Steph felt motherly, something arctic and self-serving uncoiled itself from within her mind and indeed, it was responsible for so much of her creative output recently.
The entity blinded its mother to plot holes and motivational contradictions. It just wanted out. Even the new ‘About Me’ section of her website carried this wild unhinged serpentine voice to the world. It had to have an audience. It thrust her hands into the air.
Foley’s career needed new input and if his media profile had been sustaining my own, well…
She couldn’t deny that there was the constant temptation to change her youtube channel profile name from John Clay to Stephanie Penny Tent. The itch was ever present. She never scratched at it. She couldn’t.
'Spiderfingers is all about you you you,' whispered her voice, 'but only via actions that propagate Him Him Him...
Two yellow eyes suddenly burned a path through her thoughts. This is it figured Steph. She wished them away, far away, her mind extracting this foreign agent to anywhere but the cafe.
The sight of the flames, spirals of whip-lashing fire fanning above Steph’s head and in front of her face. She took a quick scan of the debris laden street. No sign of Andy anywhere. Hastily, she shoved Saul aboard whilst keeping an eye on her predator. The wolf thing was sniffing the air. It span in Steph's direction.
N E X T T I M E I N
S P I D E R F I N G E R S
'Oh, yeah. The only reason why me, Vicky, Lilith, Mum, Dad and Nathaniel started believing in him was cos of a fucking lie. He recruited us as his little army off the back of a fucking set up.'
(N.B The comments posted below pertain to an extended version of this story, truncated due to issues of pace).
WARNING: THESE COMMENTS INCLUDE SPOILERS.