Page 1 of Spinning Out of Control

Chapter 1

Caleb

It had been seven months. Seven fucking months since my life came to a crashing halt. Just long enough for everyone to forget or stop offering help, and just long enough for the most obvious issues to be treated with surgery and physical therapy. They said, “Life goes on,” and it sure fucking did, even with me barely holding onto the reins.

I was lucky to be alive. Everyone said so. Seeing pictures of my car afterwards, they were right. If the driver of the other car had struck my driver side instead of my passenger side, I probably wouldn’t have even known what hit me; it just would have been lights out. I couldn’t even be angry at the guy who hit me. It was his fault for running the red light, and he died. I didn’t. Which meant that I was the only one living with the result of his fuck up. His family was sorry for what happened, to him and to me, but words didn’t change what the accident did or what it took from me.

I didn’t remember much about it, which was probably a blessing in disguise, considering the damage. I didn’t know that third degree burns don’t necessarily hurt right away, but I found out they hurt like a bitch when my wounds started to heal. I also didn’t realize that my hand was gone until I woke up two days later in the hospital. You would think that you’d know when you are suddenly minus one significant body part, but I didn’t. Not until I tried to touch my bandaged face and found nothing at the end of my right forearm.

But the hands on the clock still turned, even though I felt like time had stopped for me. I had surgeries to fix the broken bones and torn muscles in my right side and shoulder. I had physical therapy to keep the skin on my burned face, neck, and arm from tightening too much. I had occupational therapy to learn how to use my left hand for everything my right had once done. And now, I was on my own. Plopped back into the unforgiving world like a baby bird that only just learned to fly.

The first blow when I rejoined the real world was not unexpected. My modeling agency dropped me. I went from one of the most requested photo shoot models in the state to being jobless. I couldn’t blame them; I would have done the same thing. I couldn’t even stand to look at myself in the mirror. Why would anyone else want to pay me to take photographs with my ruined face, uneven features, and missing hand?

The insurance payout would at least keep my bills paid for a while. I had never considered that there could be a price on what my body was worth, but apparently there was. But now what? My life had changed in literally seconds, and I was supposed to just adapt to this new “normal.” Life continued on around me, as if my whole world hadn’t stopped that afternoon in August in that intersection.

I tried to get back to my life as best I could. And then I discovered how much people suck. Or, at least, the people I knew. The few who were willing to hang out with me at all acted like I was dying. Hushed voices, not asking me any questions about how I was feeling, making small talk like we were strangers, giving vague promises to hang out again soon or to let them know if I needed anything. After those few pulled away and didn’t reach out anymore, I was okay with that. I would rather be alone than with people who I thought were my friends but couldn’t face the tragedy that I had to live with every day.

But the problem was, I didn’t want to be alone. I appreciated me-time like anyone else, and I was really glad I did not have a roommate in my one-bedroom apartment as I tried to adapt to life without my dominant hand. But I had always been social. I liked going to parties and clubs, hanging out at the bar with my so-called friends, catching a movie, or even just getting together and playing video games. I had no siblings, and I wasn’t seeing anyone seriously. I was actually sort of glad I hadn’t been dating anyone when it happened, because, even though it would have been nice to have someone there, if that person had decided they couldn’t handle being with me, with my burned face and missing appendage, I don’t know what I would have done. My parents lived out of state, though my mom came to stay with me when I first got out of the hospital. She tried multiple times to convince me to move back in with them, but I refused. While I knew she meant well, I could still take care of myself. I didn’t want or need to be treated like a kid, even if things were more difficult now.

I tried going to the meetings for people recovering from trauma. I tried talking to the therapist assigned to me. I tried talking to people online. None of it helped. If I’m being honest, a lot of it made it worse, and my own attitude wasn’t helping either. My anger and frustration kept growing until I felt like it would drown me. There was no up-side to this. No silver lining, no lesson I was supposed to learn, no moment of clarity or realization.

The only thing that even remotely helped were the antidepressants. It took several months for my doctor and I to get a medication and dosage that actually helped me. I had never been someone who thought they would be dependent on medication to be able to function. “There’s no shame in taking what your body needs,” my doctor had said. I knew that was true, but it was another mentality shift I had to adjust to in a very short amount of time while my world was on fire around me.

I used to think I was a confident guy, maybe even a little cocky at times, though what 29-year-old isn’t? I was handsome, I had a job I loved, and my life was good. And then that all ended.

The very first time I went out in public on my own after my accident without bandages and dressings on my face, a little boy on the sidewalk had burst into screams and told his mother, “You said the monsters didn’t live over here!”

His mother had tried to hush him and cast me an embarrassed, apologetic look as she pulled her kid away, but the damage was done. I was not human anymore. At least, not where people could see me. I had barely looked in a mirror since I had returned to my apartment from my long stint in the hospital, but after that, I took down every single mirror in my house and hid them in the back of my closet. I had things delivered, and if I left my apartment, even to just get the mail or take out the trash, I put on a facemask or a scarf. It often hurt, like I was being stabbed over and over again, the pinched skin and healing nerves so painfully sensitive that I wanted to curl up into a ball and die instead of dealing with it. Even the sheets on my bed or the gentlest fall of water from my shower could cause insane amounts of pain that my prescribed medications wouldn’t even begin to touch. I don’t know what hurt worse though, the physical pain or the emotional pain. And feeling that sort of constant misery all the time was exhausting, in every sense of the word. It’s hard to pull yourself out of that sort of darkness when you’re so fucking exhausted just from being alive.

That was when I heard about the Monster Match app. I had known about monsters in our world for a while now, even encountered a few here and there in my various modeling gigs. It was kind of scary to realize that monsters not only existed but were in the very place I lived in. I lived in Edgewind, which was one of the towns that had been turned into a safe haven for monsters to integrate themselves into human society. But they tended to stick together in specific areas, and while some of them did venture beyond that, I did not encounter them with any sort of regularity in my day-to-day life, especially after I holed up in my apartment like the apocalypse had come.

But as the weeks alone turned into months, with nothing in my life changing except whether or not I felt like getting out of bed each day, I joined the Monster Match app and started to browse it, more out of sheer morbid curiosity than anything. I knew so little about monsters, and reading their profiles gave me a better idea of the many types of creatures that had come into our world. Their abilities and looks varied so much. Some of them were smaller, even smaller than humans, and some were much bigger. Looking at their pictures was more interesting to me though. Some very obviously were not human, with multiple eyes, sharp teeth, grotesque features, wings, or fur. But others could pass for human with a few special articles of clothing or some basic makeup tricks and contacts. That made me wonder two things. First, if I had ever met a monster that I hadn’t realized was a monster because of how well they hid it. And second, if I myself could actually pass as a monster rather than human.

That thought made my insides tighten. I was not born a monster. I was even blessed with good looks. I had been a moderately good student through high school, popular, had lots of friends. I went to community college for a few years but did not have a major in mind. Then I was offered a modeling contract by a recruiter, my career took off, and I had almost ten years of life being pretty damn good. And now what? I was not yet 30; I still had probably another forty or fifty years left in me. That was also a sobering thought, that I would probably live longer without my dominant hand than I had with it. This was who I was now, like it or not.

It was March when I was browsing the Monster Match app again. I had had several monsters try to match with me, and more than a few monster dicks and maybe-not-dicks sent to me in messages too. I still had not replied to any of them. I was sure a lot of them just saw my profile picture, one of my old photos from early last year before my life changed so dramatically, and decided I was hot. But today, a new profile popped up that I had not seen before. It was a basic one, with less detail than the premium memberships had. The face in the little box on the screen was obviously a selfie. The creature’s skin was dark gray, with a shock of almost white hair that seemed to be standing straight up from its head. From what I could see, it didn’t seem to have clothes on, though its skin looked to be almost like molded plastic or some kind of armor, in segments over its chest and arms. The creature was giving the camera the barest hint of a smile, the sort of look you had when you weren’t really sure if you were worthy of a photo. But what caught my attention were the eyes, eight in all, that peered into the camera, black as night.

I scanned the new monster’s profile curiously. The name was listed as “Teracht,” and the pronouns were listed as “he/him.” His species was listed as “Atauri,” but my internet search of that turned up nothing that told me what that was. He listed his occupation as “spinner,” though I doubted he meant he led a spin class at a gym. His bio blurb was pretty straight-forward. He was not new to the human world, but he said that he very rarely left his house and would like any potential partner to come to his place. I wondered if he realized that made him sound like a serial killer. He mentioned he was a little shy as well. That was interesting. If the monsters I had met before and the number of PMs with dicks in them were any indication, most monsters were pretty outgoing.

Something inside me tightened as I scanned his information again. If he didn’t leave his house, which seemed a little odd, it wasn’t like he probably had that much company. I wondered if he had any human friends at all or if he even knew any humans? And if he did, would he care what they looked like? His profile listed him as seeking romance or friendship. I had never done more than browse the app, but the longer I looked at the sweet, hopeful smile Teracht was giving the camera, the more I found myself wondering if maybe this monster would be open to me venturing ever so slowly back into society. I swallowed hard, and, before I could talk myself out of it, I hit the button to match with him.

Chapter 2

Teracht

I did not respond to the match on the Monster Match app for several days, only looked at the profile. Caleb only had the left half of his face visible to the camera, his golden blond hair obscuring part of his right side, but what I could see was exquisite. He had mentioned that he was a former model in his profile, and I could see it. With his shiny hair and sea-blue eyes, he looked like the sort of man who would work at a beach or be a movie star. I already knew that if he was on TV or in a movie, I would watch it every day. Why was someone so gorgeous seeking a partner on a monster dating app? Surely, he could have his pick of any number of human partners.

I had only been on the app for a few days. My friend, Cael, had come by with questions for me regarding the man he had met on the dating app that he was having feelings for. When he left, he had encouraged me to finally put myself on the app too. I was happy for him. Cael was a good monster. Lonely, like me, and we got along well enough, considering our eccentricities. He did not have a home, just living and existing where he pleased. And his voice could make humans fall unconscious when they heard him for the first time. I had not, which surprised both of us when we first met, though he usually remained invisible when he came for a visit. With my larger range of vision and multiple eyes, his eldritch form made me feel like static was tingling under my skin when I looked at him. I had thought that might make him unhappy and not want to continue our relationship, but he was a surprisingly kind and astute monster. He stopped by at least once a week to see me, which I very much appreciated. In the time I had been in the human world, I had only ever left my house to go to the military base when requested, usually for their naturalization classes, like where I had met Cael. Otherwise, I stayed in my home.

I had been a little concerned when I first arrived in the human world, knowing that in order to stay, I would have to have a job. I would have done anything asked of me to ensure I was allowed to remain. The military examined my spider webs, and whatever they discovered, they were delighted and intrigued by it. They asked if I could provide more for them, and I had tried very hard not to laugh. I was a spider, after all. Spinning was natural to me, and I would do it anyway for my own comfort. So, I agreed to provide them with multiple kinds of webbing, with various tensile strengths and stickiness. And, to my delight, they said I could do that from the home I was given, if I was more comfortable that way. I had a feeling my webs were much more valuable than they were letting on, so they were willing to make concessions to get it, but I was perfectly fine with that arrangement. I could be alone, safe, away from prying eyes and predators, doing what I knew how to do. I could even experiment with my abilities, something I hadn’t been able to do in the monster world, where spinning was the way that I survived.

When I discovered that I could watch human television in my home while I did my web work, I was over the moon, as the humans said. Humans had such expressive forms of art, and television had such a variety of stories and styles. I could use it to learn human language, culture, mannerisms, societal structure, and any other number of things. Between spinning as much as I could to make myself useful, and the fact that I only needed an hour or two of sleep a day to feel rested, I spent those first months in the human world watching a probably unhealthy amount of media.

I didn’t regret it. I was actually enjoying this new life I had created for myself. If I had remained in the monster world, I very likely would have been dead by now. I was a gargantuan spider by human standards, but not by monster standards. I was downright puny compared to even the smaller males of my species. The likeliness that I would be able to successfully breed and escape with my life was zero, if I was not cannibalized by others of my kind first. In our land, only the strongest survived, and that was not me. There were no familial ties to bond us together either. I had to make my own way. So, when I heard that there were portals to another world that was letting monsters come in, I jumped at the chance.

And now I was too afraid to respond to an attractive human on a dating app.

I wanted to. Maybe it had been a mistake listing that I was interested in both friendship and romance. How did I know what this guy was looking for? I might have already messed things up for us, and I hadn’t even responded to him yet. So, I waited until Cael came for his next visit.

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