Shadow of the Spider

You spoke of the spider... I hunted through the morning gloom. Across the wide timber desk, tucked beside a coiled black cable, I found it. A stiff card... a red-and-blue mask staring up with frozen, white eyes. I stepped forward without a sound and drove my claw straight down onto the printed chest, pinning the spider flat against the wood. No pulse. No twitching sinew. Just ink and dried paper. A mere phantom... but we do not leave threats unchecked. I dragged the card back into the cold recess beneath the monitor, burying it deep in the shadowsss. We will be watching.