Larry himself seemed hideously thin. And yet, in the next instant, the man easily lifted a large pedestal. Whitney's eyes had time to get used to the darkness, a little, and she managed to notice in time how Larry launched an improvised projectile at her.
— Hey come closer. It's time to call! Lari commanded in a trumpet voice, lifting the bedside lamp from the floor with his crooked hands.
Whitney's shot landed in the center of Larry's head. Quins' body crunched and collapsed to the floor.
Turning on the light, Whitney found a terrible mess reigning in Larry's house. Among his scattered belongings, there was a mobile phone turned off. After putting the device on charge, Whitney sat down next to the mummified body of Queens. The bullet left a through hole, completely bloodless. The liquid, viscous and transparent, flowed only from the body of the many-legged creature, saturating the space around it with a bitter, nauseating aroma.
Whitney plopped down in Larry's worn-out chair, only now feeling how tired she was. My legs ached terribly from the strain, and the weight, squeezed with monstrous force. Whitney covered her face with the sweaty palms of her hands, and then ran her fingers through her hair. A nerve impulse burned through every cell of her body. Whitney raised her hand with the revolver and pulled the trigger.
Pink — red arthropod with a lot of eyes, it casually slid off the back of her head, crawling under the sofa.
Whitney's heart was racing to get out. She jumped up, feeling the back of her head, and trying to keep track of the place where the spider-like creature was hiding. Fortunately for Whitney, Queens smoked a lot during his lifetime, and among his things she came across a box of matches.
On the street, powerful currents of air violently swayed the extinguished lampposts, and tree branches slowly grated on the cold, extinguished windows of silent houses. The flames greedily enveloped the rooms where Larry Queens used to live, releasing thick, acrid clouds of smoke into the sky.
Dragging her tired legs, Whitney wandered off to seek help. Yellow tongues of fire brightly illuminated the naked, slimy bodies of unknown spiders crawling out of the red-hot remains of the house.