ENTANGLED IN A TERRIFYING WEB

Bogotá had fallen into an unusual silence. The intense cold of the damp night seeped through the windows of Clara’s apartment, fogging up the glass. It had rained all afternoon; the streets were soaked, and traffic had become unbearable, turning the journey home into an exhausting test of patience. Clara arrived drained, her feet aching after spending the entire day in heels. As soon as she crossed the threshold, she dropped her bag onto the floor and kicked off her shoes, breathing a sigh of relief as the cold wooden floor met her bare feet.

She headed to the kitchen, intent on brewing a coffee, but she had barely taken two steps when something small and quick darted across her line of sight, stopping her in her tracks.

Her heart began to race as she scanned the floor. There, near the baseboard, a long-legged brown spider scuttled into the shadowed corner. Clara took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

—It’s just an insect. —She whispered, though her skin already tingled as if a legion of invisible legs were crawling over her.

She shook her head to dispel the sensation. Leaving the water to boil, she added the coffee and cast a quick glance toward the living room. Something about the atmosphere unsettled her, as if the air itself had grown heavier. She walked into the room and turned on the floor lamp, but the dim light barely pierced the gloom. Her gaze lifted to the ceiling, focusing on a small crack in the corner. The crack had always been there, but tonight, it seemed deeper, as though something lurked within.

—I’m losing it. —She muttered, running a hand through her hair and pulling away when she imagined a thread tangled between her fingers.

With hesitant steps, she approached the sofa. She glanced at the side table and began rearranging the pile of magazines. Her fingers brushed against something sticky. Clara froze, her muscles taut. Slowly, she raised her hand and saw a silk thread clinging to her skin. She held her breath, resisting the urge to scream, as her eyes traced the thread. It stretched from her hand to the far corner of the table, where a tiny spider swung lazily in its web.

She stepped back, shaking her hand as though the thread were burning her. Her body began to tremble. But what she saw as she moved further was worse: the threads weren’t just on the side table. Reflected in the window, she caught a glint of light that revealed a labyrinth of filaments, some so fine they were almost invisible, stretching into every corner of the ceiling.

A wave of revulsion swept over her as Clara rushed toward the light switch. As she reached for it, she felt something brush against her fingers: a ghostly touch. Glancing up, she saw another thread dangling from the ceiling.

She pulled back immediately, clenching her fingers and trembling at the sticky sensation. Then, something caught her eye. On the ceiling, where the crack dissolved into shadow, something grotesque began to stir. It was a spider, but not like the others. Its body was large and bloated, its long legs stretching like black branches, grasping at the very darkness.

Clara stumbled as she tried to retreat. Her hands sought support against the wall, but instead of the smooth surface she expected, her fingers pressed into something sticky. Horrified, she looked and saw another thread descending in front of her face.

Her breathing quickened. She felt as though she were being ensnared in a massive web. The sofa, the tables, even the floor lamp seemed connected by a living, growing network. She waved her hands frantically, trying to push the silk away, but the sensation of something crawling on her arm made her let out a strangled cry.

—No more! —She screamed, almost unaware of her own voice—. No more, please!—

She staggered toward the kitchen, desperate for something—anything—to cut through the web. She ignored the water that was still boiling. But when she opened the drawers, her stomach dropped. Tiny spiders poured out of the cupboard, one by one, until they became dozens. The creatures swarmed over the furniture, the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. The echo of their multiplying legs filled her mind with a deafening hum.

Clara collapsed onto the floor, retreating as far as she could. She couldn’t take her eyes off the spiders crawling toward her. Her apartment, her sanctuary, had become a living trap. Her gaze darted back to the crack in the ceiling, and her chest tightened with panic and tears. The grotesquely oversized spider was now descending slowly, hanging from a thick silver thread. Its multiple black eyes, gleaming like an abyss, were fixed on her.

Clara tried to get up, desperate to flee the apartment. Her muscles begged her to move, but her hands and legs refused to obey. The sticky threads had formed a cocoon, trapping her limbs. As she struggled, her heart pounding furiously, she felt a chilling tickle on her skin. She didn’t need to look to know what it was. The spiders were crawling over her arms, her neck, and down her legs.

She wanted to scream, but her voice caught in her throat as the tiny creatures wove into her hair, skittered across her scalp, and crept down her panic-stricken face. A spider the size of a bean scuttled across her fingers, pausing briefly in her palm before disappearing under her sleeve. She felt them invading her ears, crawling torturously slowly. Another slipped into her nose, its frantic legs fighting the resistance. Clara tried to close her mouth, but it was too late; several spiders plunged inside, filling her palate with a bitter, metallic taste that spread down her throat.