Based on the writing prompt “Write about someone welcoming a stranger into their home.” from Reedsy.com
“Please, sir, of course you must come in and warm yourself,” the young woman of no more than twenty-two said to me. “You’ll catch your death in the storm out there.”
I thanked the woman with a respectful bow, which she returned. She was the vision of loveliness, a porcelain doll come to life, with her silken black hair and white kimono embossed with stylistic cherry blossoms. “You’re a lifesaver, miss,” I’d said, carefully removing my shoes, which were not at all meant for this kind of weather.
Before the lockdowns, I’d promised myself that I wouldn’t take any more of these temporary routes. But the company’s Japanese branch had lost several truckers, and they’d asked us down in the New Orleans branch to send someone to cover. None of us really wanted to do it, despite the rather enticing compensation being offered, so my manager, Jerry, volun-told me for the task. After all, who else at the company had learned enough Japanese to read bootleg manga before the fan translations came out?
Yeah, I’m that kind of dork.
Actually, it was kind of an addiction. Before the trucking job, I was in a pretty bad place. Depression, you know. I didn’t really go out for seven years. Mom couldn’t even get me to go to Church for Easter or Christmas, which scandalized my entire Roman Catholic family the first couple years.
I mean, I wasn’t a complete shut in. I went out to go grocery shopping. And I wasn’t a completely broke loser. I opted into bitcoin really early, and I’d made enough money that I no longer had to work. But, due to circumstances, after seven years as a shut-in, I had to get out of the house and on the road. So I’d signed up for trucking classes.
But I was still not the best when it came to social situations, so it wasn’t that hard for Jerry to bully me into going. He said it’d be for my own good. And he even gave me some money – from him personally – to go to Shinjuku and do some otaku sightseeing while I was there. I mean, Jerry was a bit of a hardass as a boss, but I couldn’t fault him as a person. He was one of the good ones.
So there I was, on a smaller road in Japan in the winter. I’d made the trip a couple times, of course. But never in the snow like this. In fact, I’ve never been much of a snow driver. I’m a southern boy, Louisiana born and bred. We don’t much do snow. Sure, it happens, but we stay home like sensible people. Or, if we need the money, take jobs that require hauling loads down to Fort Lauderdale.
Not drive through Japan late at night on a snowy road, just asking to hit a patch of black ice and jackknife the truck into a ditch. But that was exactly what happened. And so I started walking, lamenting not packing some more appropriate footwear for the snow. Sure, those old sneakers were comfortable, but I’d have killed for some thick socks and boots. Also, a working cell phone. There was no reception out here.
There was no other traffic, most people being more sensible than I, so I headed in the direction of some lights I’d seen a couple miles off of the road fewer than ten minutes earlier.
Once inside the young woman’s home, I took a seat offered at a kotatsu – you know, those heater table things – and accepted some tea. God, was it good. I mean, I don’t know if I actually tasted it. But it was warm and that was what my body craved more than anything. So I drank it faster than would normally be considered polite.
The young woman, Fuyutsuki Kumoko, smiled warmly, pleased at my seeming enjoyment of her tea. “Louis-san, are you hungry? I do not have much left over from dinner, but I could heat you what was left of the hot-pot, or perhaps some miso soup and rice?”
“Thank you, Fuyutsuki-san,” I said in return. “I am definitely hungry, thank you. I will happily eat whatever is the least trouble to you.”
She nodded and went to the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returned with some of the reheated stewed vegetables and a heaping bowl of rice. It smelled amazing, and tasted even better.
As I ate, we talked for a bit. She told me of how this home had belonged to her mother, and to her grandmother before that. It was a fairly lonely existence, but the garden and stream offered more than enough food for her to sustain herself and even trade a bit with her neighbors in the village about fifteen miles away, which happened to be where the closest phone would be. Apparently the locals really loved her hand-woven blankets.
I told her a bit about my family and what things were like back home. “It’s a lovely place,” I said. “As long as you don’t go by the river,” I teased.
“What happens if you go by the river?” she’d asked.
“There are many tales,” I said. “And many monsters. But in truth, I suspect it’s just meant to keep kids from drowning themselves, or getting eaten by gators.”
“Gators?”
“Big lizards with big teeth. They live in the rivers and out in bayou. They’ll gobble you right up.”
“How frightening!” she gasped.
After chatting, she pulled out some hanafuda cards and we played this game called “Koi-Koi”. I was getting fairly decent at it after a bit, but I was definitely getting tired. “I’m going to step outside for a smoke before bed,” I said to her.
“I will join you then,” she said to me.
She rolled herself a cigarette, and we stepped out onto the patio, outside but protected from the wind and snow, though the blizzard itself had waned. I looked up to the nearly cloudless sky. “A full moon,” I said. “Actually, your name, Fuyutsuki…doesn’t that mean ‘Winter Moon’?” I asked.
She nodded. “I am impressed,” she answered. “I seem to have underestimated you, Louis-san.”
I took a long drag. “They say that the moon is at its prettiest in the winter. The cold dry air means you can see it most clearly then. I’d say your family name suits you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her blush shyly. It was a cute look for her, and at that moment, she looked her young age more than she had all night.
We headed inside and I took a moment to visit the facilities before I went back to the kotatsu. “It is getting late,” she said. “And long past time for me to go to bed.”
“Thank you, Fuyutsuki-san. I’ll just sleep here, if that’s okay. The tatami are quite comfortable, and the kotatsu is as comforting as I’ve been lead to believe.”
She shook her head. “That just won’t do. You’ll catch a cold if you sleep under the kotatsu, Louis-san.”
Oh, yeah, I’d forgotten that was supposed to be a thing. Probably a superstition. I mean, I’d never caught a cold using an electric blanket, and this couldn’t be much different. But her home, her rules. “I understand. Is there a guest bedroom, perhaps?”
She shook her head. “No, there is only the one futon here.” She blushed again. “But I will share it with you, if you’d like?”
I was going to kiss Jerry when I got back. Like I said, a bit of a jerk as a boss, but he had your back as a person. “I’d love that, Fuyutsuki-san.”
She shyly looked at her feet. “Please, call me Kumoko.”
I smiled at her. “Please, lead the way, Kumoko.”
She took my hand and led me down a dark hallway towards a door I could only see due to its silhouette in the moonlight. The floorboards creaked a little and the floor seemed a little sticky…wait. Sticky? And not just a little. I nearly fell as my feet got stuck to the floor, and reached out to a wall to catch myself. And…my hand was stuck.
“Kumoko?” I said, alarmed. But as I looked at her, the sweet, dainty twenty two year old had become something horrifying. I couldn’t see her perfectly in the shadows, but she was some kind of half-spider creature.
Rather than saying anything, she spit something in my face. My skin tingled, and began to go numb, and the last thing I remember before passing out is spinnerets covering me in webbing.
I awoke in a fairly dark, damp room – probably the cellar – unable to move. And I wasn’t alone. I mean, I was the only living soul down there. But there had to have been at least a half dozen desiccated corpses down there with me. And two of them were wearing our company’s jumpsuit. Well, that explained our missing drivers.
The door to the cellar opened, filling the room with moonlight. I sighed. Well, Jerry had been right. I was the right man for this route, it seemed. I could feel the webs encasing me stretch as I began to transform, no longer holding my inner beast at bay.
They’d told me I had to honor lent. “At least come to Easter Sunday Mass,” mom had said. But I’d been too wrapped up in myself. By the time I realized how important it was, it had been too late. I was a monster. And I needed to feed.
Kumoko and I weren’t all that different, I guess. But while I’d traveled the roads seeking out those who wouldn’t be missed, she laid a trap to lure in the unwary.
We’d each had our vulnerabilities, I guess. But she’d bit off more than she could chew. And as I tore away her webs with my claws and let out an ear-piercing howl at the moon, I think she realized it.
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