Pierre didn't have a happy childhood. They didn't even fully understand one could exist. They were barely hatched before they were filled with the devil himself. Pierre was told it was love, what happened to them.

Pierre grew restless. Something-

Something had to be wrong with how they were treated. It could not be normal that they couldn't sit from the pain. They couldn't use the bathroom without it hurting. Couldn't stay asleep at night.

Parents told them it was love. Told them it was how they should be treated. Pierre knew how the game went. Pain for pain. They were the reason their parents disappeared. First taste of flesh. "It's for love," they said.

Pierre loved their parents when they laid cold in front of them.

What a tragedy. The young heir, orphaned. Left in that mansion to rot.

Pierre did not know business, but they knew how to get someone's attention. They knew how to get someone to agree. They knew what to do.

It was like that, eating people and eating people, until Sage. Oh, Sage.

What were they supposed to do? What kind of spider would they be if they let a fly go?

They could not eat the child, not once they took them in. They could not bring themself to. Sage was nothing but food. Pierre had not been taught it was inappropriate to play with one's food.

It went like one would expect. Pierre believed Sage loved it — or would love it. They'd end up the same, wouldn't they?

They knew Sage loved them. Of course they did. It was so easy to see, even when Sage hid it behind tooth and claw.

Pierre could see it in the way their eyes glinted when Pierre stuffed them full. Pierre could see it in the way they held themself when Pierre hugged them. It was obvious.

Pierre had never been one for austerity. Greed was what they were best at. They slept around. Sage knew.

It was everything when they met Conall. Pierre saw them and knew that they were in love. It was very simple. Conall saw them and knew they had a target. It was very simple.

Neither of them knew what the other one was. A genuine courtship — if fucking in a club counts. It did to Pierre. It did to Conall.

Pierre was beastly. To Sage, to Conall, to everyone around them. Their apparent love for the big bad wolf did not stop their abuse of anyone. Pierre dug their teeth in and swallowed everything they came into contact with.

Pierre did not tell Conall they had a child. It was, in fact, an accident that they had seen Sage at all.

Sage knew of Pierre's new lover, of whoever had replaced them. It had not gone unnoticed that Pierre was not on them nearly as often. The walls were not so thick as to be silent.

Pierre had made it very clear that Sage was to stay in their room unless otherwise requested. Sage grew bold without Pierre's constant watch. Sage would test their cage when they knew Pierre was not looking. Sage was sneaking down for food.

"You did not tell me you had a kid," Conall said, and Sage knew that they would not sit or lie properly for days.

"I did not see a reason to," Pierre responded, gripping Sage' shoulder and digging their claws in. "It's not an issue, is it?"

"No, I just would like to know my lover, that's all," and they pull Pierre away from them for a kiss. Sage takes the moment and flees.

It took a while for Conall to realize that Pierre did not treat Sage the way one would treat a child.

Conall had their suspicions that Sage was not being treated properly when they saw Sage again. Sage walked with a limp. They had assumed beatings.

It later became very clear to Conall that it was not, in fact, a beating Sage had received.

Sage had pulled them into a room when Pierre had stepped out, started peeling off their clothes mechanically, and told Conall to fuck them.

Conall said no. They were not- they were not whatever Pierre was.

"Please, I-I need you," Sage whimpered. Conall had no idea what to say or do, and they bolted.

Sage did not understand what they did wrong. That was usually enough to get Pierre to do what they wanted. They hated them.

It hurt when it happened. They thought they'd be happy when they stopped. It shouldn't still hurt.

It shouldn't still hurt.

Conall left, for a while after that. A trip, Pierre says, though Sage didn't know what that meant. It must have been their fault. While Conall was gone, Pierre was violent.

Sage has learned they were not happy without Pierre and they were not happy with Pierre. They are not sure if they ever will be.

Conall returned and Sage is grateful, at least for the reprieve. Conall had brought them a gift.

It was a basket of wildflowers. Sage was not sure what to do with them, since they will wilt and die, and Sage is not a gardener.

Conall told a story to them, when Pierre was not listening, about the people who used the flowers. They told them about how the flowers mean revenge, about how the flowers are poisonous. They were gorgeous flowers, after all. The prettiest things are often the most deadly.

Pierre had always told them how beautiful they are.

It happened and then Pierre is gone. It did not take long. They seized up and Sage told them what they had done. The spider had the gall to laugh, like Sage had just brought the house down in comedy.

"I knew it," they croaked. "You're just like me."

Sage didn't get it.

"You're just as sick as me, fly. You're everything I was."

They did not want to hear it. They left the room until Pierre's rattling breath stopped, and then there's no more spider left to hurt them.