Like all tarantulas, the Goliath bird-eater has small, sharp hairs covering its body. When irritated or upset, they often flick abdominal hairs at the source of annoyance. Once lodged under the skin, the needle-like hairs itch like liquid fire.

I flicked a hair or two at Frank who was still looking around and trying to figure out where best to start. He yipped like a frightened pup and grabbed at his arm where the hairs had stuck. He cursed and pulled one out, scratching his bicep as though the devil himself had crawled under his skin.

I amused myself by flicking more hairs at him. One struck him in the forehead and a huge red welt swelled up almost instantly. The human side of me was toying with him; the spider mind of Delilah now longed to release her fury and attack the enemy that had invaded her domain.

With Frank’s attention momentarily diverted by the itching dart-like hairs, I silently approached him. As he removed his shirt to dislodge embedded hairs from his torso, I jumped onto his back and knocked him to the floor. During his fall, his head hit the wall and knocked him unconscious.

I sank my fangs into his shoulder and began to drag him out of the house with my pedipalps. Because it was mid-morning, I hurried in the prominence of broad daylight. I carried Frank’s body across my backyard and in through the demolished back door of my neighbor’s house. I completely ignored the yellow “DO NOT CROSS – CRIME SCENE” tape strung up to keep people out. I dragged his body to the basement and deposited him in a dark, far corner on the dirty cement floor. I began to web his hands and feet securely.

Without warning, I felt my mind separate from the spider and snap back into my own body like a rubber band. I awoke rubbing at my temples as the mother of all headaches exploded through my brain like a thunderstorm. I felt a hand lift from my shoulder. I looked up to see a co-worker look at me with concern in his eyes. He’d awaken me because break-time was over.

As he walked away, I became overwhelmed with panic. My mind left the spider before I could return it to the cage or even reduce its size. What would it do on its own? It had the capacity to go on a killing spree the likes of which this city had never seen before. I shuddered at the thought, but there was nothing I could do about it right now. It’d be best if I remained calm.

As lunch time approached, I decided to go ahead with my plan to talk to the company owner, Henry, about Frank. There were several reasons I decided this. First, it was a perfectly natural thing to do in light of the tire shredding incident yesterday. Second, sooner or later it’d be discovered that I knew of Frank’s break-in attempt. If I asked Henry to stop Frank, it would appear as though I were using legitimate methods to prevent the trashing of my house.

When lunch time arrived, I made my way to Henry’s office. His secretary informed me that he’d gone out for lunch at The Aviator. Where had I heard the name of that restaurant before? I mentally shrugged. Since I hadn’t eaten yet, I decided to join him for lunch.

I could tell when I arrived that it was a rather pricey, upscale place. An expensive lunch would be money well spent if I could be seen talking to Henry as I was expected to.

When I inquired of Henry’s whereabouts, the waiter pointed to a remote table in the far corner. The dim lighting of the place was supplemented by flickering candles at each table. It was more than enough illumination to see my wife sitting across from him.

I quickly stepped behind a white marble column and peeked around the side of it. Neither of them had noticed me. I tried to remain calm. There had to be a reasonable, innocent explanation for this.

When I looked around the column again, I saw Joanie wore a rather tight, red silk dress that revealed long thighs. The sleeveless dress was cut low enough to show a very generous amount of cleavage. With what Joanie usually wears around the house, I’d forgotten she even had breasts.