The strands of webbing glistened in the beam of my flashlight, fine, almost ethereal. They were fresh, and right in my path.
I held my breath and waited, ears straining. Nothing. I moved on, concentrating on the task at hand. Just get what I was looking for, then leave, that's all, I kept telling myself.
For a moment, I actually thought it might be as simple that. Then I heard too many legs skittering across the ground.
American Nightmare Manuscript: Too Many Legs
