A Break for the Movies

Airachnid and I finally got off the bus, feeling the sun hit our faces directly. My back was a bit stiff, nothing unexpected after hours on that hard seat.

"We'll need a few days to reach the Idaho border," I said, glancing at the sky. "It should be around nine in the morning."

During the trip, we'd seen a growing military presence. Judging by the number of vehicles and the soldiers' behavior, the state would probably be locked down soon. Makes sense. It's a reasonable move when no one really understands what's going on.

Airachnid walked beside me, observing everything intently until she stopped and sniffed herself. She made a face of pure disgust.

"Ugh! I'm soaked in human sweat! Disgusting! I want my normal form back right now."

"If you do that now, you'll draw more attention than a meteor crashing into the White House," I replied, glancing at her sideways. "We need to use the confusion and move discreetly toward the cocoon. That was the deal."

She rolled her eyes and huffed but didn't argue further. She knew I was right.

"But since we're in this city…" I added casually, "…how about we catch a movie?"

Airachnid instantly seemed more interested. The curiosity about those horror movies I'd mentioned earlier flickered in her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure, crossing her arms and pretending to be serious.

"You're really thinking about fun, considering your… situation?" she asked, trying to sound concerned, but that hint of curiosity still slipped through.

"The risk is in using my powers," I replied with a faint smile. "As long as I stay like an ordinary human, without activating anything… there's no danger."

She arched a skeptical brow but didn't press further. Deep down, I knew she was just trying to hide how badly she wanted to see a horror movie.

"The only problem is… I don't have much cash left," I admitted, pulling a few crumpled bills from my pocket. "I can't just print money like I used to, not with my powers unstable like this."

Airachnid gave the most straightforward answer possible, as if it were the obvious choice: "Then we'll steal."

I sighed, already expecting that kind of suggestion. "Yeah, not really in the mood for robbing a bank today, thanks."

She frowned. "Bank?" she repeated the word like it was new to her, then gave a sly little smile. "Sounds like a good place to cause some chaos…"

"No. Chaos, no," I warned, shooting her a serious look, or at least trying to. To her, everything was either a game or an excuse to stir trouble.

She muttered something in Cybertronian, probably an insult or a provocation, I'm sure and then walked off. Within seconds, she was behind some distracted guy, and with frightening natural ease, she plucked his wallet from his pocket like she was just flipping a TV channel.

I just stood there, staring, somewhere between shocked and impressed. She was definitely adapting to her human body faster than I'd anticipated.

"Seriously, where did you even learn that?"

She just came back with a smug little smile, tossing the wallet to me like it was a trophy.

We went to the movie theater. I bought some soda and popcorn, just the basics. Nothing flashy.

Airachnid grabbed a few pieces of popcorn curiously and put them in her mouth. For a moment, her purple eyes lit up with an intensity that could only mean one thing. Before I could react, she yanked the bucket from my hands like it was sacred treasure.

By the time we even reached the theater doors, the bucket was completely empty, with only a few kernels clinging to the bottom. She turned to me, gave me a serious look, and… demanded more.

I sighed, resigning myself to defeat. Okay, I'll admit it, she actually looked… cute. Yeah. A robotic alien spider assassin… cute. Don't judge me.

The only thing that left a tiny pang of guilt was imagining the poor guy whose wallet she'd stolen, probably had gas money or a dinner date planned and now his cash was used to satisfy the absurd popcorn craving of an intergalactic predator.

"Airachnid, just so you know…" I tried to explain as she practically buried her face into the bucket, munching like she hadn't eaten in centuries. "In the theater, you can't make noise. Or at least… try not to ruin the experience for everyone else, okay?"

She nodded automatically, the kind of nod you give when you're clearly not paying the slightest bit of attention. Still, I pretended it meant something.

The screen lit up. The lights went out.

And then… the ads began. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes of trailers, commercials, and those polite-but-annoying warnings about not using your phone. And still no actual movie.

Airachnid was visibly irritated, glaring at the screen like it was personally responsible for the delay. She'd already devoured her entire bucket of popcorn before the movie even thought about starting. Now, her purple eyes slowly turned toward me… or more specifically, toward my popcorn bucket.

I sighed, already defeated, and handed it over like I was signing my own death warrant. She took it with the silent satisfaction of someone who'd just won an invisible war.

The movie finally started, with that classic slow build introducing the cast, accompanied by a soundtrack that was trying to be mysterious but sounded more like an old man climbing a flight of stairs.

Next to me, Airachnid's rhythm also changed, her voracious munching shifted into a slow, thoughtful chew. Almost elegant. Mental note: bribing this creature with food works better than any containment strategy I've ever seen. Popcorn: 1, genocide: 0.

The first kill came shortly after, one of those predictable, slow-motion deaths with overdone screams and artistically splattered blood. The audience around us let out a collective gasp.

I didn't even blink. Predictable.

But Airachnid?

She threw her head back and laughed.

A laugh so genuine, clear, and terrifying it made the scene feel like the punchline of the best joke in the galaxy. A few people turned to look. A woman in the front row gave the classic "who brought this demon child?" stare.

The next death scene was even bloodier, more graphic. And Airachnid lost it again, this time clutching her stomach, tears in her eyes. I was sinking into my seat, wishing I could just disappear into the soda cup.

Ok, conclusion: her sense of humor is… questionable. Other people's suffering is apparently her version of a Saturday night comedy show. The audience was getting more and more annoyed, probably trying to immerse themselves in the "psychological horror" vibe, while the adorable alien spider assassin was just having the time of her life.

When we finally left the theater, some people were still giving us those judgmental glares. An old lady even muttered something about "respecting the horror genre," but honestly? I didn't bother replying.

Airachnid, on the other hand, was beaming.

That same killer who could turn into a six-meter-tall spider and tear humans apart out of boredom… now looked like a teenager leaving an amusement park.

"Ok, that was AMAZING!" she said, licking her fingers with almost childlike enthusiasm. "I have to do that again. The part where the head exploded? Hilarious!"

Hilarious. Right. If she found that funny, I'm almost scared to imagine how she'd react to playing Mortal Kombat. Would she just roll on the floor laughing at the Fatalities? One day, I'm definitely testing this.

As we walked, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. I followed her gaze… to a small cotton candy stand.

She didn't even need to speak. Her claws subtly dug into my side with delicate menace, while she looked up at me with the closest thing an alien killing machine can manage to "cute."

"Pleeease…" she said, in the sweetest, most sugar-coated voice I've ever heard from her.

I sighed and paid for the damned cotton candy.

The moment she put that fluffy pink cloud into her mouth, her purple eyes lit up, literally widened as if she'd just unlocked the secrets of the cosmos.

"What… is… THIS?!" she exclaimed, staring at the candy like it was a sacred artifact.

"Just… sugar," I said, stepping back slightly because something didn't feel right.

And then it happened.

She started laughing to herself, her pupils spinning like a pinwheel. She began walking in circles with a level of energy that was… concerning.

"I can FEEL the colors! Lux, the sky is hugging me!"

Okay. So sugar affects her like LSD.

"Airachnid, are you okay?"

"I'm PERFECT! The ground is dancing with me!"

"Right. Now I know that sugar itself makes you more of an idiot than getting drunk... Damn, how does she get like that?"

She ran up to a giant inflatable hot dog and started talking to it.

I took a deep breath, then slapped myself hard across the face. "Congratulations, Lux. You've created a hyperactive maniac with questionable humor and the palate of a child."