Pentagon watched as his mother, Spinnere, weaved one of the most gracefully spun silk strings around some unlucky pony participant. The unreformed nymph aforementioned happened to be resting calmly in his makeshift bed of silken string, waiting for his nightly meal. His mother had trouble with this exact pony in particular; though he hadn't been the bulkiest cupcake in the bakery, he could sure put up a good fight against the slow constriction.
Their humble abode consisted of a dark, cavernous cave in which the high ceilings of stalactites would make each of the pony's muffled screams echo in the atmosphere. Pentagon's ears would perk at every squeak, shout, and panic. It became like music to his ears every time. Pentagon could finally see that when his mother bit firmly into the side of the earth pony stallion's neck, drawing little drips of scarlet liquid, the pony had given out, head hanging low like he had just taken the worst defeat of his life.
Spinnere turned to Pentagon and smiled, proud of her handiwork. "Apologies for keeping you waiting," she said, ambling toward her son and placing a hoof on his head. She brushed the light pink gossamer from his eyes, kissing him on the horn. "Dinner's ready, honey."
Pentagon smiled as he rose up from his bed of silken web and organized twigs, striding hungrily toward the bound and captive pony, ready to feast on his love.
Pentagon remembered that night, as he stared wistfully into the distance. He had his hoof tapping on the kitchen counter as he sat on a barstool. It was pouring down raining in the middle of the afternoon in Manehattan, and it was especially lonely in the apartment since the gang had gone costume shopping for the triplets.
Nightmare Night was in a few weeks, by the way. The time where everything was all shock value and fear factor. Pentagon never understood what all the hype was about. Heck, he was even put off by the idea that spiders were thrown into the mix, added just to scare away the thrill-seeking foals, or something. Spiders weren't that bad, were they?
Maybe that was biased.
Even still, one of Pentagon's biggest insecurities was being a spider-ling, but in secrecy. It hurt knowing that spiders were creatures that were most feared of, simply because of their multiple limbs, or their extra pairs of eyes, or even the fact that they're small, fuzzy, and fast. Pentagon only really had two of those defining features, when he wasn't transformed. He was fuzzy, and had multiple legs. Six, to be exact. Sure, it may have looked like he had four now, but-
Oh, wait.
The "looks" portion of it.
Yes, Pentagon had been hiding his true form. Ever since he started making new friends, he would transform into a somewhat "normal" changeling and disobey his heritage. It was a tiring form to maintain, especially with all of the joking about his color scheme. In reality, most spider-based changelings were unreformed, because, well, there haven't been very many spiders with a color scheme as bright as Pentagon's.
It was more of a natural occurance.
Pentagon sighed.
It was even worse to be dating a butterfly, really.
It was almost like being in love with a slice of cake, even. Being in love with it for what it is, but being tempted each and every day to just cave in and devour it like the confection loving monster you are.
That was the kind of situation Pentagon was in right now. And it'd definitely be significantly less difficult if he weren't so obsessive. In truth, Pentagon had been courting his boyfriend, Oculus, for years before they even started officially dating. He didn't know if it were more of a sixth sense as to why he wanted to be with him so bad, not knowing that Oculus was a butterfly all those years before.
Was that weird?
That was weird.
Still, "love at first sight" (though Pentagon didn't believe in that) always began with physical attraction. It was always healthy as long as it wasn't the dangling shoestring the relationship was hanging onto so desperately. It was a good thing Pentagon's relationship with Oculus wasn't like that, despite the latter also dating Ocellus.
Digressing.
"Yo. You look lonely," a familiar voice quipped from across the kitchen-living room combo. Oculus was leaning against the wall adjacent to the corridor, smirking with a possibly devilish intent. Pentagon circled his hoof on the counter. For the first time, it wasn't exactly in a playful manner.
"I'm not," he said, looking up and smiling at his boyfriend. "I've got you, stupid."
"Heheh, okay, you got me." Oculus strode over to Pentagon at the kitchen counter, now bending his foreleg so that it could rest on the counter at an angle where he could lean. "Just us?"
Pentagon blanked as he looked at Oculus' gingerly fluttering wings, something pounding in his chest. It was either his heart, or his fiendish intent to feed again. No, it never really disappeared from all those years of "reformation", quotation marks around the last statement because as mentioned before, spider type changelings could never really reform like the other changelings could.
Of course, the cherrybug never had been starving all these years. Though blood was a bit of a better snack, there was always love to feed on like he used to. And love was more like a softer, more subtle tasting baby food. That was why it was so effective when the changeling was younger, but not now. He was about seventeen, now. Nearly a legal adult, according to Equestria's laws.
And when it came to spider-type changelings and coming of age, they were more likely to cycle into full-grown adults and begin feeding off of... well, blood.
And so, he answered, "Just us." More confidently than he thought he could, however. He heard Oculus chuckle, another grin on his face.
"Good."
Not good. Not good at all.
Pentagon found himself gazing hungrily at his boyfriend's wings again, thinking more and more about draining blood from them each and every second. There was a small amount of love coming off Oculus already; nothing Pentagon couldn't take a bit of and nibble off that, but... well, he wasn't in the mood for a small snack right now; he wanted a thick, rich meal.
"Err... Penny? You alright?" Pentagon finally realized that Oculus had caught him staring, though he probably wasn't aware as to why he was staring at him so intensely.
So instead of properly answering the question, Pentagon stood up, feeling as if a little bit of a test demonstration about what he was feeling couldn't really hurt. Stepping forward and pushing Oculus to the floor, he pinned him down with his hooves.
"Woah, what the-?!"
He silenced his prey by gently lifting his head to expose his neck. Then, Pentagon would bear his fangs and dive forward, stabbing his sharp teeth straight into the crook of Oculus' chitinous neck. The latter let out a terrified scream, but Pentagon didn't mind it, continuing to feed off the abundant drops of bitter, red liquid.
And then he opened his eyes and recovered himself from the violently charged daydream.
"Pentagon? Pentagon?"
"Eh, right, sorry..." The cherry-chitined spider perked up once again. "What were you saying?"
"Nothing," Oculus said, standing up straight so that he wasn't leaning on the counter anymore. He gazed confusedly at Pentagon instead, a hoof raised and a brow quirked in question. "Just tryin'a see if you were, like, spacin' out or somethin'."
Oculus was right. Pentagon was spacing out, but not the good kind of spacing out. It was actually the violent, accidentally plot to inadvertently kill your non-sensual appetite arousing boyfriend kind of spacing out. That was definitely not the good kind, and Pentagon knew that. What he was after wasn't love in particular anymore, no. Oculus already gave him enough of that.
(He noted that dually with a blush).
What he was after now was pure, freshly drawn blood.
And what a perfect time to begin going through spider-bug puberty. Just a few days before Nightmare Night, of course.
