Bad Seeds | Dai semi cattivi crescono le mele marce #3

Brotherhood of Evil Writers
B.E.W is an anonymous collective of American authors brought together for this collection of stories and inspired by illustrations. We gave each of them a selection of pictures with just one request: the stories must contain the word “seed” or “seeds.”

Copyright di Isa Bancewicz

SPIDERWEB
Written by Magma illustrated by Isa Bancevicz

Spider-girl wasn’t bad looking, nor was she particularly good looking.
Her only good feature were her eyes: two black buttons on a dull face.
She wasn’t stupid, but you couldn’t say she was smart. She didn’t know how to do anything. The only thing she could do was weave her web, which she used to catch and devour men.
Sometimes they suffocated and died before she ate them, so she’d let them go.
She didn’t like eating dead meat. She preferred her victims when they were still moving. You shouldn’t think that she was cruel. She just followed her natural instinct.
She lived outside of town but this didn’t prevent her from finding her prey.
It was the women who took action. They decided that they would kill her. But no one wanted to soil her own hands with blood. And they couldn’t say anything to the men because she would find out at once. So they called the village fool, gave him instructions, and sent him to Spider-girl’s house.
She didn’t suspect a thing… not until she kissed him. It was then that the fool, who hadn’t spoken until that moment, blew poisonous seeds down her throat.
Spider-girl died while having convulsions. A week later, the fool died too.
After a while a new fool came to live in town.
But no other spider-girl ever came to live there again…

* * *

Copyright di Valentina Sani

YOU’RE ALL THE SAME
Written by Ultraviolet illustrated by Valentina Sani

You all think you’re special, said the fortune teller to the girl.
You come here and think that you already know your future, the luck waiting for you right around the corner, the love that’s going to take you far away.
Do you want to know the truth? You’re all the same.
And she showed her pictures of the girls who were exactly the same as her. Girls who came before her, asking to know their future. They had the same eyes as her, and the same hair, the same defiant look of someone who thinks she is unique and precious
Here’s your future, the fortune-teller then said.
When the girl left the tent it was dark out. The May air was full of seeds and looking at herself in a window she realized that the only thing that she had, and which she had believed to be the only one in the world to possess, was beginning to fade.

* * *

Copyright di Claudia Palmarucci

THE COLLECTION
Written by Babyshamble illustrated by Claudia Palmarucci

I used to know this old man who collected seeds.
He was an old piano teacher, or at least I think he was.
Anyway, there was a piano in his house and he looked like an old teacher.
Well, in his house everything was old.
As I said he had this collection of seeds. I used to go and clean his house every week and each time he would show me his collection. It was in a wooden box, with lots of little drawers. He had a story for each seed. It were as if he lived for those seeds.
The morning he died I went to clean his house but they sent me home.
A couple of days later I passed by and saw that his son was getting rid of his old furniture. He was loading some stuff onto a truck, but he was leaving most of it in the trash.
And there in the garbage I found it: his collection of seeds. On my way home that night I couldn’t help but think that sometimes we believe to raise our own children when actually we raise total strangers.

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