It was strange, all the fireflies. There were hundreds of them flitting in the yard and the trees surrounding the property. They pulsed as one and their yellow glow lit the gravel drive as Darren crunched his way toward the pole barn. A crescent moon brooded like a lidded eye over the shadow shrouded trees.
He opened the door. Thick white ropy tendrils coated the rafters and walls. Candles burned on the floor.
His twins Zach and Sarah hung from the ceiling–their heads barely visible through thick web wrappings. He dropped his flashlight.
“Darren honey, you’re just in time to feed the children.”
His wife emerged into the circle of candles. Her swollen belly pressed against her nightgown. There was a strange glitter to her eyes as if they had turned into disco balls.
Celia’s body swelled even more, her nightgown shredding to expose a belly sprouting thick hairs. The skin on her arms, legs, and sides split with a small pop and splatter of blood. Her face sloughed off, replaced by chelicerae and four red glowing eyes.
And Darren screamed as her abdomen burst, birthing a multitude of scuttling black young.