The Fortunate and the Free

The Fortunate and the Free

A Story by The Proletarian
"

A diary of my psychotic obsession with- and consequent experimenting on- spiders I have caught. Their interaction reveal the true nature of a spider, which prove to be eerily similar to man's nature.

"
----- Freedom Meet Fortune

A month ago I found a spider in my pantry.

I submerged it in water for half an hour and trained it as thus:

After nearly drowning it, I pulled it out with a chopstick and nursed it back to health for about 7 minutes. Then using that same chopstick that dragged it into the water and then saved and helped it, I hoisted the spider into the air.

When it tried to spindle a web line to reach the ground, I twisted the chopstick around the opposite way so the line wound around the chopstick like spaghetti on a fork, and it got nowhere.

When it tried to lassoe its web line to a wall (to form a bridge) I pulled the chopstick violently, and caused the line to break.

When it tried to walk to the end of the chopstick, I moved my holding hand to the opposite side of the chopstick. For all it knew it was suspended on this chopstick and not going anywhere, this chopstick almost killed it, this chopstick saved its life, this chopstick could give and could take away, this chopstick was God.

This routine happened for two hours, until it gave up lassoing, and gave up trying to find the end of the chopstick, and ran out of half the (web material) in its body(it was half transparent). It then started spindling lines quickly in a mad rush down, and it was reaching the bottom too quickly for me to stop it.

So I put a bowl of water underneath it, as it touched the water, it remembered its torture and ran back to the chopstick for safety. It tried this a few more times for about 30 minutes, then stopped.

At this point, no matter what I did, no matter if I placed it on the ground, even nudged it away, it would not leave the chopstick.

It feared freedom, it's name was Fortune, I was it's God, and fear was my leash.

------Ive Played This Game Before...

I have been starving Fortune.

Three days ago I found a spider loitering on my porch, it was the same spider-species as Fortune, so I caught it and put it in the cage with Fortune. (This cage is a container with 25 evenly spaced airholes on the lid, it is see-through, there is nothing at the bottom but the bottom of the container, it is a holding cell, and it has been Fortunes prison and sanctuary since his capture.)

The two do not react much, Fortune is much paler than this new spider. The new spider has eaten recently (being newly imprisoned) and I did not train it, the new spider does not know the mental rules that I have taught Fortune, it has not conformed to my decided way of life, it believes all spiders should live freely, it truly wishes to be free, it tastes freedom in the air and sees it through the plastic.

This strong, fed, restless and ambitious spider was named Freedom.

Freedom and Fortune sit in my cage.

Fortune seems to be dying. It has been the most oppressed, having been here longest and undergone my torturous conditioning. Freedom is strong, large, and fed. I have only given Fortune dead ants occcasionally, and some live ones that escape through the airholes.

I read up on spiders, a spider, according to the sources, will not eat prey dead longer than 30 minutes. Fortune, thus, never touched the dead ants, he has been starving. Freedom, I reckon, will likely outlive fortune. The question is how.

-----Misery Loves Racism.

On the same day I caught Freedom, I caught another spider. This spider is not the same arachnid-species as Freedom and Fortune, rather it is the same species as an earlier failed experiment named Spider. Because of this I name it Spider, after the old one.

Spider is a long, thin, spindly spider, belonging to an arachnid species more reminiscent to an elegant daddy-longlegs (insect- not arachnid) than the brute race of Freedom and Fortune (more reminiscent to a tarantula).

It is weak but fast, and cunning, unfortunately, this cage is 1.5 inches high, 4 inches long and 4 inches wide. Freedom and fortune both are at least 1.7 inches from tip to tip.

There is not much space, and Freedom is getting hungry. Fortune is weak and vulnerable, but he is the same species as Freedom. Spider is strong, and the most well fed, but he is a foreigner.

I wonder if they will all choose to starve together, or not. After all food is not the only diminished resource, the air-holes are small…

-----A Spider's Heart

When I left for school this morning, I had 3 starving spiders in my cage. Now I have 2 full spiders, and a discarded abdomen.

According to books, a spider only drinks the blood of its victims, I expect to see a carcass somewhere here. I do not.

Searching through ant corpses I find what I eblieve is the hollowed shriveled remains of a leg segment.

Fortune is looking healthier, his colour returning and he seems to be growing. Freedom is still jumpy, but seemingly satiated, for now.

I can only guess that Freedom killed Spider (for Fortune, having not eaten for a month, could hardly move) and shared with a weak, maimed Fortune. (There seems to be two piles of… well it looks like dust, every bit has been thoroughly mangled.)

There is no place for a cunning Spider here.

-----My Brother's Keeper

I have been dropping live ants into the cage, normally the ants escape through the airholes. Only a couple dont make it out.

Hunger has taken the spiders, they have been scavenging corpses in the cage. Sucking and re-sucking at dead ants that have been dead for days (as mentioned earlier, spiders dont feed on anthing dead longer than 30 minutes.) They even sucked at the ancient, shriveled leg of an already drained Spider.

Thanks to Freedom, Fortune (the spider I conditioned and tortured and starved)had enough strength to catch an ant, but still they are far too starved.

Today, Freedom built webs around the airholes, to catch all the ants that kept escaping. It didnt work out as well as he planned.

Meanwhile Fortune, however, built a web for Freedom at the bottom of the container.

Freedom is now missing two right legs, and Fortune is looking a lot healthier.

-----I Have Given You a Gift

Freedom is dead.

Over the period of the night, the pitterpattering of warring feet rang in my ears.

Tensions rose through hunger. Fortune, realising he had an upper hand, constantly attacked Freedom, and with each attack took a leg or a mandible.

Eventually, a tortured, likely blinded Freedom- stumbling around aimlessly with four remaining legs, fell back into the web Fortune made, and died.

Fortune is looking healthier.

He is now all alone and has more than enough air and an entire, large spider for him to eat at his leisure. He can feel free to wander without constantly looking for the biggest airhole.

He also improved on Freedom’s ant-catching web, and is waiting for me to drop more ants into the cage. These ones will not escape, I think.

There were 3 spiders. One cunning, though slender and foreign. Two brothers.

The smart one died first. For if one must die, it will not be the weaker but the foreigner.

The one who wanted freedom tasted death. He was stronger, but he was ambitious, he craved his own web and freedom to roam.

He was blinded by cheap useless morals of brotherhood and freedom and rights.

He was the loving one, who fed his brother when he was in need. Who worked tirelessly to make the best of the situation.

Who dreamed of better days, and probably hoped for a future.

He was a creature of virtue and character.

He was kind. He was loving. He was Freedom. He is dead.

The only one who survives is Fortune, who all the while has been dying, since I first submerged him in the water with the chopstick.

After his baptism and conditioning, Fortune did not crave freedom, rather he feared it.

He no longer hated bondage, he embraced it.

He realised that the most important things in life was not morals and ethics, not brotherly love and honor.

Rather, the most important things are air. Food. Survival.

When submerged in water for 30 minutes he craved nothing more than air.

When starved for a month before the experiment began he craved nothing more than food.

He took help where it was offered. He offered no help in return. He took advantage of the kindness of a stronger brother, hepling him in weakness.

He betrayed his brother’s kindness, and took advantage of him at his weakest.

So, even being the weakest one, he was the strongest.

Survival of the Fittest, the superior species, the winner is the tormented and beloved spider Fortune.


I have raised him through kindness, kindness through cruelty.

I would set him free, but by now I think Fortune won’t leave. After all, the first lesson he learned was to fear freedom.

He wasnt struggling for freedom, he wasnt fighting for a prize, he was fighting to live.

So I, in my relative power, will grant him life. I am his fear and pain, I am his friend and Master.

He fears freedom, his name is Fortune.

And he is my pet

© 2012 The Proletarian


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Added on July 2, 2012
Last Updated on July 2, 2012
Tags: Torture, Spiders, Philosophical, Dystopia, Social Experiment

Author

The Proletarian
The Proletarian

Toronto, Ontario, Canada



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