I went into the garage just to grab an old toolbox. Usually, it’s my husband who goes in there — he keeps it organized and knows where everything is. But me… I almost never go in. Still, that morning, for some reason, I felt like going inside.
The light in the garage was dim, the lamp was flickering — it should’ve been replaced long ago. I walked along the wall and suddenly stopped. In the far corner, where the old cabinet with paint and random junk always stood, I noticed… something.
At first, I couldn’t tell what it was. It looked like it was covered in a thick layer of dust, but something inside that “thing” moved.
I came closer. And in that moment, I felt a chill, like the temperature had suddenly dropped. I was absolutely terrified when I realized what it was
It was… a nest. Huge, grayish-white, as if it were made of cotton and spiderwebs. And inside — dozens, if not hundreds, of tiny creatures.
Spiders. Some were crawling along the surface, others were still, but I saw: it was all alive. This wasn’t old dust or debris — it was a lair.
I didn’t scream. I just bolted out of the garage like a bullet and slammed the door behind me. It took me a full hour — and my husband arriving — to convince myself to go back in, and only with him. At first he laughed, until he looked for himself.
The spiders had been living there for a long time. Their nest had grown, hidden behind the cabinet, among forgotten boxes.
The walls were covered in fine webs, and crawling along them were hairy creatures — some the size of a fingernail, others much bigger. And eggs. There were egg clusters.
“How did we even live here all this time?” I whispered as we called the exterminator.
