Stan the spider

-

“Could I take a look at the Death Note prop?” Robert asks.

“No,” Chris says, without hesitation.

“It’s a book, Chris. It’s not exactly going to shatter if I drop it.”

“If I give you the prop,” Chris says, “you’ll refuse to return it. This is a plot to steal the lead role from me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous; that had barely crossed my mind. This is serious. You’ve heard about the recent deaths of criminals, I trust?”

Chris nods. “We did use a few of those names in the last rehearsal. I suppose we’ll have to find replacements for the actual show; it seems in poor taste to write them down now.”

“It doesn’t cause you any concern?” Robert asks. “You wrote their names down in the heart attack book, and then they died of heart attacks.”

“For goodness’ sake, surely you don’t think there’s some sort of causation involved.”

“Seems like a hell of a coincidence,” Robert says.

“And yet the alternative is impossible,” Chris says, “so a coincidence it must be. Plenty of the names I wrote weren’t reported dead.”

“Did you know their faces?” Robert asks. “It only works if you know the face, doesn’t it?”

A frown flickers across Chris’s face, just for an instant.

“I’m not going to give you the Death Note,” he says, after a moment. “But, if you must compare the names to the reports…”

He flips to the two written-on pages of the Death Note, tears them out. Hands them to Robert.

Robert screams.

“What’s wrong?” Chris asks, jerking back.

“Hi,” says the vast, feathered monstrosity behind Chris.

Robert points wordlessly at it.

Chris looks over his shoulder, frowning. “You’re afraid of Max?”

“Max?” Robert echoes, incredulous.

“Of course it’s Max; who else has that perpetual grin? He made his own costume, I think. It’s certainly impressive, but I do wish he’d stop following me around everywhere.”

Right. Yes. Of course it’s Max.

“Don’t appear out of nowhere like that, Max,” Robert orders him. “It’s unsettling.”