They hope it's not but it almost certainly is. The clouds gather mass and shape and over the radio as they do the best they can to shield the most more-or-less precious artifacts under futuristic tarp comes the words they'd feared: Christine weather confirmed.
And they run for shelter in the houses knowing no point in running really and deep down maybe it comes as a relief as it must for the fly numbed as object of the spider's kind attentions. Now Christine's with them as they float almost entirely suspended in time, slowed to the crawl she prefers.
The only thing to be done in Christine weather is to give into it. With your body frozen and bound and her voice lulling and the faint screams of the others she's tended to still echoing in your ears and so much blood on her lips.
It's everything to have her close attention and see her eyes determined and hear her commands and feel the tracing knives of her fingers knowing that she wants it to be enjoyed enjoys it most being enjoyed, but that you also have to give into it fully and it'll hurt.
She kisses you close and surface by surface and you know in each soft one that those will become sharper numbing bites. And then scratches and more menacing bites that you know you'll never recover from but that also somehow by that point feel numb and sensual on account of venom.
She's all around you now and somehow, you, what's left of you, your ears and your mind and some tingling fragment of your spinal column will hear and feel her calling you to stop holding back, and you won't be able to help but come when she calls. It might be an hour or it might be a few minutes, but in that time she'll teach you home.
It's everything to have her close attention and see her eyes determined and hear her commands and feel the tracing knives of her fingers knowing that she wants it to be enjoyed enjoys it most being enjoyed, but that you also have to give into it fully and it'll hurt.
She kisses you close and surface by surface and you know in each soft one that those will become sharper numbing bites. And then scratches and more menacing bites that you know you'll never recover from but that also somehow by that point feel numb and sensual on account of venom.
She's all around you now and somehow, you, what's left of you, your ears and your mind and some tingling fragment of your spinal column will hear and feel her calling you to stop holding back, and you won't be able to help but come when she calls. It might be an hour or it might be a few minutes, but in that time she'll teach you home.
