Horrifying shower guest

The steam billowed around me, a comforting curtain as I sighed, the day's stress melting away with each drop of hot water. My eyes drifted shut, the only sound the rhythmic thrumming of the showerhead and the whoosh of my ragged breaths. I was a tangled knot of exhaustion, and the warm water was slowly unraveling me.

Reaching for the loofah on the corner shelf, my fingers brushed a web. A shiver slithered down my spine, and I snapped my eyes open. The shelf was pristine, the playful tendrils of a forgotten cobweb a figment of my overheated imagination. Chuckling at myself, I dismissed the phantom sensation and continued lathering up.

Suddenly, a heavy silence descended. The comforting symphony of the shower had ceased. Panic clawed at my throat as I realized the water had stopped. I fumbled blindly, my hand connecting with the cold metal doorknob. It wouldn't budge. Trapped.

A single, beady black eye glinted from the corner of the tiled ceiling. Every hair on my body stood on end as a colossal spider, the size of a dinner plate, descended on a silken rope, its glistening body reflecting the dim light filtering through the frosted bathroom window.

Its eight legs, each thicker than my thumb, clicked on the wet tile as it stalked towards me. Its abdomen, a pulsating mass of obsidian and crimson, twitched with predatory anticipation. My scream, a strangled gasp, cut through the suffocating silence.

Frantic, I slammed my fists against the unyielding glass door. It wouldn't break. The monstrous spider was closer now, its hairy legs scraping the tile with a sound like a fingernail on a chalkboard. The click-clack symphony was maddeningly slow, amplifying the rising terror in my chest.

A single drop of water splashed down, landing on the back of my neck. Another followed, then another, until a cold sheet of water cascaded down, drenching the massive spider. It reared back, its glistening form contorting in anger, the water sizzling on its chitinous exoskeleton.

But the reprieve was short-lived. The downpour ceased as abruptly as it began. The monstrous spider, seemingly unharmed, let out a high-pitched chirp that sent shivers down my spine. The silence returned, thicker and heavier than before.

Desperate, I scanned the shower for a weapon. My eyes landed on the discarded loofah – pathetically inadequate against such a monstrosity. Tears streamed down my face, blurring the horrifying scene before me.

Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw it. A vent, barely noticeable against the patterned tiles. It was a long shot, but it was my only chance. Grabbing the loofah, I lunged towards the spider, aiming for its glistening red abdomen.

It reacted with astonishing speed, leaping back on its silken rope, the loofah falling harmlessly to the wet floor. The creature chirped again, the sound echoing off the damp tiles, a chilling summons.

Without a backward glance, I scrambled towards the vent. My wet arms scraped against the rough tile, the plastic grating tearing at my skin. But I didn't dare stop. The spider scuttled after me, its movements impossibly fast.

Reaching the vent cover, I slammed my shoulder against it, the brittle plastic cracking under the force. With a cry of pain, I shoved my arm through the jagged hole, shoving aside a nest of damp insulation and cobwebs.

A piercing shriek tore through the air. The spider had reached the broken vent, its enormous fangs snapping at the edges of the hole, almost reaching me. Gripping the surrounding tiles with all my might, I pulled myself through the narrow opening, leaving behind the monstrosity in the steamy confines of the shower.

I emerged in the dark attic, the world a suffocating black. The only sound was my ragged gasp escaping the constricting vent. I stumbled through the darkness, my bare feet cold against the dusty floorboards.

Suddenly, a silken strand brushed across my face. My scream died in my throat as eight beady eyes gleamed in the darkness.

I wasn't alone.