Captain Commander and the Space Spiders From Space!

By James Noll

Get ready for a spine-tingling space adventure like no other!

 

Introducing "Captain Commander and the Space Spiders... FROM SPACE!" - a side-splitting, heart-racing, and fear-inducing novella that will have you laughing, trembling, and questioning the sanity of the cosmos!

 

Brace yourself for a hilarious yet terrifying tale of intergalactic arachnids, cosmic chaos, and a hero who might be in way over his head.

Join Captain Commander, the intrepid (and slightly clueless) space explorer, as he faces his greatest challenge yet: an invasion of enormous, eight-legged extraterrestrial spiders! From the darkest corners of the universe, these creepy crawlies are hell-bent on conquering the galaxy and spinning their intricate webs of terror.

 

But fear not, dear reader! With wit, charm, and an impressive arsenal of unconventional weapons, Captain Commander is ready to do battle. Prepare for non-stop laughter as he navigates bizarre encounters, quirky alien species, and his own bumbling mistakes while attempting to save the universe from these nightmarish, eight-eyed invaders.

 

Combining the best elements of horror, science fiction, and humor, "Captain Commander and the Space Spiders... FROM SPACE!" will leave you clutching your sides with laughter one moment and checking under your bed for spiders the next. It's a rollercoaster ride through the cosmos that will keep you on the edge of your seat, eagerly flipping pages, and wondering if you'll ever look at spiders the same way again!

 

Don't miss out on this wildly entertaining and delightfully absurd novella. Pre-order your copy now and prepare for an adventure that will have you simultaneously chuckling and shrieking! The space spiders are coming... from space!

 

Get your copy today!

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Silvherhammer Studios
• Release date: Jun 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9781733744386

James Noll

James Noll has worked as a sandwich maker, a yogurt dispenser, a day care provider, a video store clerk, a day care provider (again), a summer camp counselor, a waiter, a prep. cook, a sandwich maker (again), a line cook, a security guard, a line cook (again), a waiter (again), a bartender, a librarian, and a teacher. Somewhere in there he played drums in punk rock bands, recorded several albums, and wrote dozens of short stories and a handful of novels.

Book preview

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Mad Tales (Compendium)

Don't Turn Around (Illustrated Compendium)

Thirteen Tales (Short Story Compilation)

The Wounded, The Sick, & The Dead (Short Stories & Novellas)

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A Knife in the Back

Thirteen Tales

The Hive: Seasons 1-4

The Wounded, The Sick, & The Dead

The Rabbit, The Jaguar, & The Snake

Mungwort

Captain Commander & The Space Spiders... FROM SPACE!

CAPTAIN COMMANDER AND THE SPACE SPIDERS... FROM SPACE!

JAMES NOLL

SILVERHAMMER STUDIOS

Horror, Post-Apocalyptic, and Science Fiction

This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. I tell you true.

Captain Commander and the Space Spiders... FROM SPACE! Copyright © 2023 by James Noll All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Silverhammer books may be purchased for educational, business, or sales promotional use. For information, visit www.silverhammer.studio

Book & Cover Design by James Noll

Cover Art by Wonder

Author Photo by Haley Noll

ISBN-13 (trade paperback): 978-1-7337443-9-3 (PULP!)

ISBN-13 (ebook): 978-1-7337443-8-6 (PULP!)

For Larry, Mark, Missy, and Donny

THE HAIRY TONGUE THINGIES

Moon colony Firenzuola 44f (named after the famed Firenzuola intergalactic telescope) was established as a terraforming colony for Firenzuola 134c—the Super-Earth exoplanet orbiting within the habitable zone of Firenzuola 134a, a distant sun in a distant system approximately 1,007 billion light-years from Earth.

Regular-sized Earth.

Original formula.

As a boy, Scott Castelan often cracked open the solitary window to his seventeenth-floor NeuTen Cribs™, by SingleCorp, apartment, crawled out to the kiddie cage his parents used to store him in as a toddler for fresh air and, laying on his back, head resting in his open palms, gazed up at the stars, wondering about such a moon orbiting such a planet and trying not to think about what would happen if the rusty bolts anchoring the cage into the century-old bricks snapped in half.

It happened before.

Not to him, of course, but the Morton twins.

The Morton twins were Scott’s best friends. They did everything together. Frolicked in the gutters, prowled the alleys, stole apples from fruit carts, terrorized the codgers on the front stoop, threw rocks at the PEECCorp™ corps.

Unfortunately, the Morton twins lived in apartment 1313. On the 13th floor. The fact that their parents chose that particular apartment alone should have disqualified them from obtaining a reproductive license in the first place, but the government, having eradicated the evils of both religiosity and public education, had no time for superstition or building codes as it was too busy fighting off the hordes of refugees paddling to the interminable shores of the east, west, and, thanks to the War of Texan Independence, newly formed southern coast.

What happened to the Morton twins was a tragedy, of course, but the tenement didn’t have a functioning HVAC system, as was the case with nearly all NeuTen Cribs™, and it was difficult to cool off. The systems had been constructed with brand-new vents and electronics and solar panels installed on the roof and all of the windows, but those systems had fritzed out years before Scott’s generation was born, the electronics plundered for copper, the wires recycled into makeshift hotplates, the corrugated metal vents ripped out and used to reinforce the shoddy pine doors against intruders, or as makeshift window shields against the periodic Molotov cocktail parades hosted by the local gangs and the mostly accidental stray bullets fired by PEECCorp™ corps sent to deal with those local gangs or evict a tenant or demand tribute from the bodega owners or harass the codgers sitting on the front stoop.

During the winter, the only way for the residents to stay warm was to burn a hot fire in the cast-iron stove. During the summer, the only way to escape the heat was to find a way not to be in the apartment itself, hence, Scott’s habit of crawling out onto the kiddie cages, a habit that was shared by nearly all the children in his building and all the other NeuTen Cribs™ on the block, at least the ones that were too young to work in one of the many neighborhood sweatshops that populated the city or whose parents barred them from doing so.

When the thrill of imminent death wore off, the children often played a game they called Airplane and Submarine. The rules were simple if predictable. The children in the higher cages dropped things on the children in the lower cages, and the children in the lower cages  tried to dodge them. As the alley separating the buildings extended approximately fifty meters brick to brick, the game could be played laterally as well.

There weren’t any rules. There weren’t any winners. The game was the goal. That and trying to find something as