Imajean and the Spiderling

A frontier girl must deal with a monster that no one else can see.

    Imajean had always been a bright girl.  She was only ten years old, but she knew a lot about life.  She was the oldest child in her family, since her baby brother was only two.  Because she was the oldest child, she had to help her father on the farm.  Her father was new to the farming life and, in her opinion, needed all the help he could get.  Father had worked for a law firm before he decided to gamble their home, and most of their belongings, on a new life out west.  Father had the frontier spirit, but not the know-how.  He was doing his best though.  He had purchased an abandoned farm with a house and a barn already on site.  The buildings were run-down, but serviceable.  Father happily pointed out that the property already had a water well, so he wouldn't have to dig one. 

   That well bothered Imajean.  There was something wrong about it.  It looked ancient.  The stones that surrounded the opening and lined the sides were rough-hewn and primitive looking.  Most of the wells Imajean had seen on neighboring farms had neatly cut stones with mortar and high stone sides that came up past her waist.  The well on their own farm looked sunken into the ground by comparison.  The lip of the well was only a few inches above the ground.  Imajean secretly wondered if some ancient civilization dug the well and it had been almost completely buried by blowing dirt over the long centuries.   She knew better than to bring up these ideas to mother and father.  They already thought she had too much imagination, as if this was a horrible handicap.  Mother thought she should spend more time focusing on becoming a "proper lady" and less time on daydreaming.

    Imajean settled into farm life with surprising ease.  She was a quick learner and did her best to help her not-so-quick father.  She always accompanied father when he went to the general store in town.  She would listen to the other farmers and ranchers and remember everything they said about feed, livestock, crops, and any other topics of interest.  When poor father seemed at a loss about what to do in a certain situation, Imajean would dredge her memory for anything that might be helpful.  Imajean also loved to listen to the stories the townspeople told.  Her favorite storyteller was Asa, the Negro who worked at the blacksmith's forge.  Asa often told Imajean stories of the Underground Railroad, and slavery, and plantations in the south.  He was a good storyteller and Imajean loved him dearly.  It was Asa who first told her why their family farm had been abandoned.  Imajean had wondered why someone would leave such a good location.  Her father's farm had a nice little creek only a short walk from the house, even though it dried up in the heat of summer.  There were plenty of trees near the creek for firewood.  The property  had the deep waterwell, the one that Imajean instinctively disliked, and it had the finished house and barn.   Asa said the local Indians shunned the place because it was haunted by demons.  Apparently, the previous farmer constantly lost livestock while living on the property.  He became paranoid and started to blame the locals, calling them cattle rustlers and thieves.  His behavior became so erratic, that everyone eventually shunned him.  He disappeared one day and no one knew what happened to him.  This information disturbed Imajean greatly, so she finally got up the courage to tell father.   He laughed and said it was superstitious nonsense.  He didn't want her talking to "that Negro" anymore, so she kept her mouth shut from then on. 

    There weren't any problems on the farm until father purchased some livestock.  He decided to try his hand at a little of everything.  He bought a dairy cow with a calf, a few sheep, which had just given birth to the most adorable lambs, and even a few chickens.  Imajean did her best to help father and she really enjoyed milking the cow and tending to all the animals.  She had never felt so happy and useful. 

   Then it happened, late one night.  Imajean was in her room up in the loft, staring out the window, watching the full moon rise.  It was a beautiful sight.  The huge, silvery disk rose high above the trees, and she craned her head to track it's progress across the night sky.  She leaned out the open window, but the moon was high above the roofline, lost to her sight.  The full moon illuminated the ground below as if it were midday.  She turned to go back to bed, when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.  Was it a coyote or wolf coming for the calf and lambs?  She was instantly alert.  The animals were her responsibility and she knew father would be angry if anything happened to them.  Imajean saw faint movement coming from the edge of the well.  That horrible, unnerving well.  She saw something pale and long and thin near the low stones surrounding the well.  Was is some sort of snake?  She watched, transfixed as the "snake" turned out to be a single, impossibly long finger.  Soon, another finger followed the first, then another, and another.  The fingers seemed to have too many joints, dozens and dozens of them, which folded in upon themselves or snaked across the ground.  The fingers seemed to be scrabbling for purchase on the lip of the well, finally hooking themselves onto the shallow stone ledge.  The entire hand, when it finally appeared, looked like a huge, ghostly pale spider.  Imajean shuddered as more of the creature rose into view.  The arms looked similar to the fingers, too long and with too many joints to be human.  They seemed to unfold themselves from the tight confines of the well.   When the head rose into view, Imajean had to stuff her hands into her mouth to keep from screaming aloud.  That face, that horrible, horrible face!  It had two eyes, a nose, and a mouth, but stretched out like taffy.  The eyes were pools of blackness and seemed to be running down the face, the nose consisted of two hollow cavities spreading downward toward the mouth...dear God, the mouth!  Impossibly long and full of so many, many teeth!  The creature somehow sensed Imajean watching from the window above.  It turned its runny eyes toward her and gave her a long, long smile.  Then, the creature unfurled its multi-jointed legs and scuttled, spiderlike toward the barn. 

     Imajean had almost convinced herself it was a dream or hallucination.  She must be letting her imagination get the better of her.  She thought of going back to bed, but her body would not obey.  Instead, she stood there, rooted to the spot.  Watching, waiting...for what?  It was just a dream, wasn't it?   The creature came back into view, carrying one of the lambs.  It paused at the edge of the well, seeming to bathe in the moonlight, pale flesh glowing.  It smiled its long smile at Imajean and held up its prize, as if to taunt her.  Then it folded itself down into the well, dragging the struggling lamb with it.

    The next morning, Imajean immediately ran to the well to see if there was any evidence of the creature.  She had almost convinced herself it was all a frightening dream when she noticed the claw marks in the dirt surrounding the well.  She backed away from the well slowly, afraid the creature would pop out suddenly and drag her into the cold, watery depths.  Father startled her when he came out of the barn, looking upset.  He said one of the lambs was missing and asked if she heard any coyotes last night.  She could only shake her head in answer.  Her throat was suddenly too dry to speak.

    Imajean hurried through her chores, then stayed in the house the rest of the day.  She didn't want to be outside where that "thing" had been.  Mother thought her behavior was a bit odd, but she thought maybe Imajean was maturing and wanted to learn more about a woman's chores.  She tried to teach Imajean more about sewing and cooking, but her daughter seemed extremely distracted.  When mother asked Imajean to fetch water from the well for cooking, Imajean flatly refused.  She knew she would get whipped with the belt for boldly disobeying her mother, but she didn't care.  She wasn't going anywhere near that well.  She and mother finally compromised, and Imajean walked to the creek to fetch the water instead.  In her heart, Imajean knew this was only a temporary solution because the creek would eventually dry up.  She dreaded the coming of summer.

   Several weeks passed without seeing the Spiderling.  That was the name Imajean chose for the creature, since it looked so spider-like.  She began to doubt what she saw that moonlit night.  Maybe it really was a dream and coyotes or wolves got the lamb.  As spring faded into early summer and another full moon was approaching, Imajean began to lose her nerve.  What if the Spiderling only came out of the well during the full moon?  Would it steal another lamb? 

    Imajean watched impatiently from her window as the full moon rose high above the house.  Nothing stirred until the moon seemed to be directly over the well.  Then she saw moon-pale fingers creeping around the edge, just like before.  She somehow managed to will her body into movement, she climbed down the steep ladder to the loft and ran to mother and father's bedroom.  Imajean shook her father awake, urgently whispering to him that something was after the lambs.  Father jerked awake and grabbed his shotgun, which hung over the door.  He ran out into the night in nothing but his nightshirt.  Imajean followed him, bare feet churning up the dirt.  As the well came into view, Imajean stopped dead in her tracks.  The Spiderling was almost completely out of the well, but father ran right past it and into the barn.  What was going on?  The Spiderling was poised on the lip of the well, watching Imajean with those runny eyes.  It looked toward her father as he came out of the barn, looking confused, then turned back to Imajean with a long, long smile.  It knew that father couldn't see it!  

   The next morning, Imajean received a scolding for waking up her father and telling silly stories.  However, when father went out to the barn, another lamb was missing.  He seemed completely perplexed.  Imajean wanted to say, "I told you so" but kept her mouth shut.  She knew what was taking the lambs, devouring them in the cold darkness of the well.  She shuddered as she imagined the crunching of bone, the tearing of flesh.  Imajean had to find a way to save the poor little lambs. If father didn't believe her, she would have to find a way to stop this horrible creature all by herself. 

    The next time father and Imajean went to town, she decided to seek out her friend Asa.  She knew father didn't want her talking to the Negro, so she waited until he was busy and slipped out the door of the general store.  She ran all the way to the blacksmith forge and blurted out the entire story to Asa in a rush.  She knew she didn't have much time before father came looking for her.  Asa told Imajean to calm down and tell him more about the demon.  Then he gave her a wonderful piece of advice.  Asa said that demons and fairy-folk don't like iron.  He told Imajean to place iron tools or something similar near the well and maybe it would keep the creature from escaping.  Imajean thanked him and quickly returned to the general store before she was missed. 

  When Imajean got home, she had the beginnings of a plan.  Both mother and father were confused by her sudden change in attitude about the well.  Before, she would never go near it.  When the creek had finally dried up, Imajean had refused to fetch water from the well, even though it was now the only source of the precious liquid.  Now, she seemed to be spending long hours on some sort of project near the lip of the well.  Mother and father just shook their heads and returned to their chores.  They would never understand their peculiar daughter.

    Imajean waited impatiently for the next full moon.  When it finally arrived, she was ready.  She watched as the Spiderling again pulled its long, multi-jointed body from the well.  It stood there a moment, basking in the moon-glow.  Its pale, waxy skin reminded Imajean of a candle.  She was sure that skin had never seen the light of day.  When the Spiderling scuttled off toward the barn, Imajean rushed into action.  She had been watching quietly from one of the downstairs windows, so she didn't have to climb down the ladder.  She knew she had mere moments before the creature returned to the well.  Imajean raced around the corner of the house where she had placed an iron rim from an old wagon wheel.  She rolled the heavy rim all the way to the well, then carefully lowered it around the lip.  It was an almost perfect fit.  She quickly ran back inside the house, hoping that her plan would be a success. 

    Imajean saw the Spiderling approach the well with a struggling lamb in one long hand.  When it reached the lip of the well, it started to crawl inside.  Suddenly, there was a bright flash like lightening!  The Spiderling howled in pain and dropped the lamb.  Imajean silently cheered as the Spiderling crept cautiously around the well, sniffing and probing.  Every time it touched the iron rim, there was a flash and the creature howled again.  Her plan was working!  Asa was right, iron is harmful to demons.  Imajean watched all night as the Spiderling tried to escape back down the well, its lamb dinner long forgotten.  As the sky began to lighten in the east, the Spiderling became even more agitated, its efforts more frantic.  At one point, it tried to leap straight down the well without touching the sides, but its body was too long and too uncoordinated.  The Spiderling's limbs became a tangled ball as it tried to drop down, and some part of it must have touched the iron rim.  Imajean saw the bright spark and heard the wail of pain.  As the sun rose over the edge of the earth, Imajean watched the Spiderling's flesh begin to darken, then blacken.  It shrieked and thrashed in the sunlight, long legs flailing toward the sky. The creature's blackened skin split and oozed a foul liquid.  Its body began to smoke, then suddenly, the Spiderling  exploded in a shower of ash.  Imajean watched with satisfaction as the ash slowly drifted to the ground.  Father wouldn't have to worry about losing any more lambs now.  She smiled and went about her chores.

Author's Note

I think I'm obsessed with wells lately ;-) I'm sure there are several historical inaccuracies in this story. I'm not a history buff. Please forgive me. I just write what pops into my head.

Reviews

[Vanessa Rico]

I have to agree with cbrucher that this reminds me of an HP Lovecraft story. In my book, that is a huge compliment, because recently I have become somewhat obsessed with his work. As for your works, you always keep me on my toes guessing what is going to happen, which not a lot of writers can do. This was extremely well written with details and descriptions that I wish I could be a master of like you! Loved it!

[Chris]

Great story! It has a sort of H.P. Lovecraft air to it, with a monster that's somehow indescribable and very easy to dispute by others. The fact that it's not out crushing towns gives the story a good ounce of believability that keeps the story suspending your disbelief. Well done!