Fat and black, the obedient spider reeled itself down into the big open palm. The killer brought his hand to his mouth and tipped his head back slightly. He either crushed the spider and ate it-or ate it alive. He stood motionless, savoring. He was big.
Broad shoulders filling the hall, head just below the ceiling.
Denim jacket stretched taut across his muscular chest. He stood motionless halfway down the hall, face in shadows, light from the opened door behind him silhouetting his size, his thick brown hair. His large hands hung below his hips, blood-stained fingers curling around the air, letting it go, curling around it again. Even in a whisper, his rough voice had timbre and power. Then she saw the spider, unreeling itself upside-down from the ceiling, eight legs pulling out more silk.