Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)☢☢Zombies Galore☢☢
Supernova
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2009
It was spring break and Nathan was supposed to be alone with his sister for two weeks. Two. Whole. Weeks. Hearing about this outrage the boy decided to stew, trying to figure a way out of this travesty. He would be stuck at home with his insufferable sister for fourteen days of irritating, emotionally debilitating contact. At least she was hot these days. There was that.
It was that bare consolation that had sparked an idea in Nate's head that had grown to monstrous proportions. He had recently been studying arachnids and had done a paper on their venom. During his research he had come to find out that in one South American tribal culture the venom of a certain silver and black spider was highly prized as an aphrodisiac, central to several fertility rituals. After a couple hours spent searching on the internet for an arachnid venom supplier he found exactly what he was looking for in a South American supply store.
After fifteen minutes of dickering he managed to make an order and have it sent to his home. Fast forward a week and his mother had left with her husband, his father, to go on a Mediterranean cruise. This was their first honeymoon as they had gotten married fairly hurriedly once they found Nate was on the way in seven or so months. Better to get on with it before she showed, they thought. Unlike a lot of families that pushed on for the children with the exception of the guerrilla warfare on par with many insurgencies around the world between Nate and his sister it had been a fairly loving, supportive dynamic. Though he did harbor something of a grudge for being sent away to boarding school for four years due to something his sister did to him. He remembered very dearly tumbling down the stairs.
That morning, the first morning after they left, Nate looked into the full length mirror held up by hooks drilled into the door of his bedroom. His messy auburn hair was as controlled as it could be, his legs caught in tight black jeans that showed off his rear and a tight black t-shirt. He spent a significant amount of time in the weight room at school, not out of any machismo ideals of male perfection, but because his step sister had mercilessly picked on him for being a fat kid when they had met oh so many years ago. Not that Nate was any better. He fished out the cell phone in his watch pocket and checked the day.
How could he forget? His twenty-first. Today. None of his friends were in town--they had all drifted apart over the course of the last seven years of boarding school and college. All because his parents realized that one day their children were going to kill each other if they continued to live in the same state, much less the same house, though apparently they trusted them not to stab each other in the neck these days.
A deep breath to steal his nerves and he clutched the small brown glass bottle in the palm of his left hand. Nate walked out of his room and quickly went downstairs, absorbing green flecked brown eyes searching the kitchen for his sister when he reached the ground floor. He saw a cup of steaming hot coffee slowly cooling to something less than scalding, but no annoying bitch as he had expected. Nate quickly unscrewed the cap, poured in a few drops of the venom, and then put the cap back on and slid the bottle into his pocket. He looked around again--no one to notice--before starting on making an omelet.
It was that bare consolation that had sparked an idea in Nate's head that had grown to monstrous proportions. He had recently been studying arachnids and had done a paper on their venom. During his research he had come to find out that in one South American tribal culture the venom of a certain silver and black spider was highly prized as an aphrodisiac, central to several fertility rituals. After a couple hours spent searching on the internet for an arachnid venom supplier he found exactly what he was looking for in a South American supply store.
After fifteen minutes of dickering he managed to make an order and have it sent to his home. Fast forward a week and his mother had left with her husband, his father, to go on a Mediterranean cruise. This was their first honeymoon as they had gotten married fairly hurriedly once they found Nate was on the way in seven or so months. Better to get on with it before she showed, they thought. Unlike a lot of families that pushed on for the children with the exception of the guerrilla warfare on par with many insurgencies around the world between Nate and his sister it had been a fairly loving, supportive dynamic. Though he did harbor something of a grudge for being sent away to boarding school for four years due to something his sister did to him. He remembered very dearly tumbling down the stairs.
That morning, the first morning after they left, Nate looked into the full length mirror held up by hooks drilled into the door of his bedroom. His messy auburn hair was as controlled as it could be, his legs caught in tight black jeans that showed off his rear and a tight black t-shirt. He spent a significant amount of time in the weight room at school, not out of any machismo ideals of male perfection, but because his step sister had mercilessly picked on him for being a fat kid when they had met oh so many years ago. Not that Nate was any better. He fished out the cell phone in his watch pocket and checked the day.
How could he forget? His twenty-first. Today. None of his friends were in town--they had all drifted apart over the course of the last seven years of boarding school and college. All because his parents realized that one day their children were going to kill each other if they continued to live in the same state, much less the same house, though apparently they trusted them not to stab each other in the neck these days.
A deep breath to steal his nerves and he clutched the small brown glass bottle in the palm of his left hand. Nate walked out of his room and quickly went downstairs, absorbing green flecked brown eyes searching the kitchen for his sister when he reached the ground floor. He saw a cup of steaming hot coffee slowly cooling to something less than scalding, but no annoying bitch as he had expected. Nate quickly unscrewed the cap, poured in a few drops of the venom, and then put the cap back on and slid the bottle into his pocket. He looked around again--no one to notice--before starting on making an omelet.