“Your son has had this fever for how long?” the doctor asked.

“It increased rapidly two days ago,” the father replied.

“My time has been stretched thin lately…” the doctor said apologetically. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back to check up on him tomorrow.”

The father was distraught. The town was struck with a strange bug this week, and the doctor was doing the best that he could do. There were other folk to attend to, so the doctor was on his way.

The doctor looked up at the sickle-shaped moon, which hung high in the sky, then turned into a dark and narrow alley.

Four additional limbs burst forth from his enlarging ribcage. His eight limbs extended and became thin and multi-jointed. His skull joined with a newly formed thorax. Two mandibles clicked and clacked. He was a large fiendish arachnid with an abdomen covered in small orifices.

He climbed up a wall, and when he reached the roof, he raised his abdomen to the night breeze. A burst of spores misted into the air.

He was getting better at his job.