Then it crawled in. A spider, a repulsive, hairy creature, no bigger than a tarantula, crawled into the room. It crawled across the floor up onto his nightstand and stopped, as if it were staring at him. He reached for a nearby copy of Sports Illustrated, rolled it up, and swatted the spider with all his might.

           He looked over only to see a hideous mass of eyes and legs. He had killed it. Just then, another one crawled in, following the same path as the first. He killed that one too. Then another one came, and another and another. There were hundreds of them! Hands trembling, sweat dripping from his face, he flung the magazine left and right, trying to kill the spiders, but there were too many. He dropped the magazine.

           Helpless now, his eyes darted around the room. He could no longer see the individual spiders. He could just see a thick, black blanket of movement. He started squirming as he felt their fang-like teeth sink into his pale flesh like millions of tiny needles piercing his body.