Discuss this story in this thread.
The spider slowly crawled over the red leather armchair, its fury body slipping on the smooth surface. The brown abdomen hit the curve of the chair and the eight legs cautiously crossed the triangular gap, the spider found itself sitting on a soft mat of grey hair and there it sat still, waiting for the prey that would never come.
The blank blue eyes of the man showed no sign of fear and despite the long tear that ran down his cheek; the face showed no sign of sadness or anger, but instead an egotistical and noble stance as if he was proud of something. The man slumped in the antique chair, his limp arm knocking the glass of vodka off the armrest and onto the large fur rug on the floor.
The large doors opened, in the threshold stood a young man, with dark brown hair and large blue eyes. A glass shattered on the floor and was followed by the deep voice screeching out