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Creepy

Summary:

Clementine was a hardened survivor. Had been for the past eight years, nothing scared her anymore. So when a spider decides now would be a good time to prove her wrong...

You could bet she wasn't going to let the puny little thing get the best of her. Now if only she could find it...

Work Text:

Clementine's amber eyes fluttered to life, cracked rays of harsh orange slamming into her tanned face through the barred window. The sun was being extra merciless today it seemed. The curtains danced freely in the motherly breeze, swinging and swooshing. A heavy blanket rested on her frame, hugging her tightly. The pillows on the bed were soft, hints of tinted yellow creeping up the cushion in strokes of age and weathering. The sharp prongs of the odd spring or two stabbed into her back.   

 Slightly peeved at being so rudely awoken, she rolled over and shut her eyelids again. Humming in content at the soothing darkness. A chilled wave washed over her and she dragged the covers up past her shoulders. She wanted those extra minutes but the universe seemed to be in disagreement when rapid taps next to her ear startled her. She froze, eye wide and terrified. 

Eight long, spindly and black legs crinkled up and flexed as the fuzzy blob scurried. The pounding of her heart was loud in her ears, overpowering all her other senses. She was stuck to the spot as the spider crept up to her, fangs barred and protruding. Panic coursed through her veins, travelling faster than blood that was supposed to be filling them and she shrieked; high pitched and girly and crashed out of bed, tangled in a web of heavy covers. The teenager groaned and a hot flush of embarrassment rosed her cheeks pink. 

She snapped back up, hand denting the mattress and eyes scanning where the spider had been not even a few short moments ago. It was empty and dread filled her core. She had lost the little fucker. She glared embers at the deserted spot and stood, pulling herself out of the strangling mess of fallen sheets. 

Clementine patted herself down and tucked a strand of curly hair neatly behind her ears. She nodded. In her opinion, she still had a small shred of dignity left over. Her jaw clenched and she analysed the room, checking every corner, every crevice. Almost as quickly as she started, she gave up finding it that way. Her hands wrapped around the indigo vase containing her bundle of fake flowers, plastic petals painted in a pristine pineapple shade of yellow. Her hat sat dormant next to it.

She lifted the object and her lips settled into a frown. It wasn't there. Slamming the ceramic back down on the shelf again, her eyes returned to darting around the room. The spider couldn't be too far from the bed. Ignoring the fierce feelings of fear playing at the edges of her soul, her digits clutched the corner of the pillow. Taking a long, deep and drawn out-breath, she suddenly yanked it away and her hunch was correct. It was there. 

If looks could kill, Clementine would've turned it into ash ages ago. Her eye twitched as it dove under the second pillow. Risking taking her ruthless gaze of the spider, she looked for something heavy and flat. Eyes hopping over her collection of animal skulls and settling on the vibrant orange and faded yellow sketch pad. It was heavy enough and flat enough to crush the spider. 

It was like a law at this point. Nothing scares her and gets to live to tell the tale.

She picked the toy up and stalked back to the bed. She heaved the pillow up and the spider was gone. Again.

"You gotta be shitting me..." She muttered to herself. This time it could be anywhere. She quelled the rage and took a calming breath. There was no way a spider was going to outsmart her. To busy looking elsewhere, she missed the spider clinging onto the under half of the pillow. It crawled up and around the object, scuttling along. It lowered one of its numerous limbs onto the girl's fingernail followed by another onto the back of her hand. 

Clementine screamed and slapped her hand. Dropping the pillow and the sketch pad. She glared at the spider, the fires of Hell swirling and dancing in her eyes. She marched up to it and slammed her boot down on it in a resounding crash that echoed off the walls. She lifted her foot, the arachnid was still twitching. She crashed her boot down again, hearing it become nothing but a splatter of separated limbs and a puddle of blood.

She stepped away from the squashed spider, still glaring at it like it were the Devil himself. A massive breath of air rushed out her nose and she calmed. Having taken her volcanic rage out on the now very dead bug. 

A knock on the door, Violet called in, "Are you alright in there? Me and Louis heard screaming."

"Y-Yeah," She stammered, looking at the mess she had made of her room, "I'm fine, I took care of the problem."  

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