Have you heard of the Jorô-Gumo? No, that's a silly question. Even if you did, it wouldn't make much sense here. My story reminds me of the creature, but not the myth. Although, I suppose it may be similar, in a way.
She was as beautiful as the myth said, in the least. So much so that I did, actually, think it was a trap. Not anything supernatural, of course. The locals from the town told many legends about the mountains, about how people go up and never go up, no trace of where they went and their tracks ending in open fields. So when you find an astonishingly beautiful woman in the middle of nowhere on the side of a mountain, it's not hard to think it a hoax.
Still, my curiosity was piqued. She did not approach me. In fact, far as I could tell, she didn't even notice I was there. That didn't fit the hoax: she was supposed to trick me, right? Promise me something, love or riches, and bring me into some sort of web to eat me, right? She did none of this; she simply wandered past, looking for something.
I followed her for a while, and things started to get a little hazy. I'm not sure why, but everything seemed sluggish. I won't forget what I saw next though.
She walked up to what at first looked like a fine, tightly-woven net stretched between trees. A rabbit had caught itself within web, seemingly recently. It struggled to free itself, and did so even more as she approached, but instead only tangled itself more. She reached down and stroked the creature twice. It slowed its struggle for a moment.
Her next few movements were quite fast, and all I could truly tell that happened was the sound a few snaps and her arms had moved in a blur. Less than a second passed before she had taken much of diaphanous thread and wrapped it around the poor creature. I could still see its outline underneath; although it could not move its body outside of a few frantic jerks, I could still see its beady eye moving around desperately underneath the strange cloth.
She then leaned down close to it, as if to kiss the beast. Although I could not make out what happened next, she certainly did something; as she placed the creature down on the earth, it spasmed even more, unable to move off of its side. Its movements quickly began to slow, however. I watched in fascination as its spasms become less violent, and eventually less frequent, until they stopped altogether.
Its one eye that I could make out kept darting this way and that for some time. I felt like it was returning to me, somehow knowing I was watching and pleading for help from the inevitable. It seemed like hours had passed before that eye stopped moving to stare directly at me, as I returned its gaze without pause.
It took me some time to realized that I did not feel revolt or guilt for what I had watched. My entrancement had come from a sense of awe and wonderment, an appreciation of beauty that made me want more. When I realized the source of my new infatuation had disappeared while I watched the last moments of the rabbit, I began to panic.
I was torn between darting off into the forest or trying to check the web, to see if it might lead some place. In the end, indecision kept me rooted for just enough time, as she came back for the rabbit with a few other bundled packages hanging lightly from her hand from a cord of the webbing. She put the bundle down and set to work repairing the hole in the web.
Her hands were fascinating. String formed of its own accord between her fingers as she pressed her hands together and pulled them apart. She played an elaborate dance that moved no part of her body, aside from her swaying arms and the rocking of her head as she watched, a smile across her face and humming from her lips that showed her own enjoyment of the task that pulled me happily in to its strange movements.
It wasn't long before I found myself humming along to the strange tune she sang. My own voice was not the surprise however: the surprise was when I realized the bundles, even the rabbit, were humming along as well, their voices lending a contrasting baritone that gave the song feeling more akin to a dirge than any sort of working song.
She continued to hum as she gathered the bundles once again, the rabbit now strung along with the others. The smile on her face seemed to contradict the solemn music that came from the impossible harmony of spider and her dead victims. I could hardly keep track of my own thoughts as I watched her begin to move off and up a hill within the forest. Still, I managed to remember to stay hidden, as I followed my new affection.
to be continued
