In the days following the deaths of the royal children, Asriel and Chara, the Underground was in turmoil. The two were much more than simply the children of the King and Queen for the monsters of the Underground – they were symbols, beacons of hope for those who wanted to believe that humans and monsters might live together on the surface once more. It was those who cherished this dream the closest who mourned the loudest in the streets.

No one knew that the spiders were in the greatest disarray of all. Few paid attention to them at all, let alone were aware that their beloved queen, Poppet, had given up her soul at last, succeeded by her only daughter. The spiders grieved in secret. That was their way. No one cared for the spiders, after all. Seen by the rest of monsterkind as not quite monster, yet not quite animal, spiders were frequently met with suspicion at best, and at times, even contempt.

Poppet was an exception. She was a true monster, the Boss Monster of spiders. She was one of the oldest beings in the Underground, much older than the King and Queen. They had always treated her graciously, and listened carefully when she spoke with the wisdom only someone of her years could have. She was certainly a capable leader and ambassador of the spiders. None of them knew how long they would have survived without one such as her.

And now she's gone, thought Muffet. And I am Queen of the Spiders.

Though Muffet was quite young, her mother, in anticipation of her death, had been teaching her of what to do when at last the time came to step forward.

"Above all," she had said, "never forget that while you are a Queen, you are a spider first of all. You must listen to each and every spider, and leave not one behind. Because in this world, if you don't, no one else will."

Muffet had listened dutifully, of course. But it had felt as though her robust mother would live forever. She had not once imagined that she would need to wear her crown so soon.

She felt overwhelmed under the weight of her new responsibility. She had been told to seek aid from the royal family if it came to that, but they were caught up in their own grief, and were accepting no visitors to the castle. And besides, she was afraid that her name would not invoke the same respect that Poppet had. Why should they grant an audience to a tiny fledgling queen, who barely had a scrap of the knowledge or power of her mother?

No. At the end of it, the spiders had no one but each other. That was how it had always been. And so they all gathered, and grieved for their queen in silence.

Muffet spoke to every one of them. She had feared she wouldn't live up to their expectations. She apologised for being so young, so inexperienced, and promised to do her best for them. And each spider crawled over her and whispered in her ear in their tiny, silent language.

We will follow you to the end, they had said. You will do your mother proud.

That was then. Now, Muffet sat alone at her wooden desk, exhausted. She had tended to her subjects and had mourned her mother. She was finally alone.

She took a crisp new book from one of the drawers. It was a large, purple diary, fresh and unopened. Poppet had told her that she had started a diary when she began her reign. Muffet wanted to continue the tradition.

Where to begin? She thought.

Two hands drummed a rhythm on the desk. One hand twirled a quill. A fourth absentmindedly stroked the spine of her diary, opened to the first page.

A spider crawled encouragingly up her arm and settled on her shoulder. She set her quill to paper.

Despite the lack of understanding that still surrounds their kind, wrote Muffet, it is common knowledge that ghosts are able to enter and leave the Underground at will. This is partly due to humanity's ineptitude with magic, and partly due to their underestimating monsterkind as a whole, let alone its lesser-known races. The greatest human magicians may cast spells, and seal exits, but there's no magic they have at their disposal able to block an incorporeal form, or close every potential escape for a being capable of indefinite flight.

Not only are ghosts among the rarest of monsters, they are also the most furtive. According to my mother, there are few among us who have seen a ghost with their own eyes since the War. Muffet paused. No one knew how ghosts passed on, or where they went to die, or even if they could. If her mother knew, she hadn't told her. However, she didn't write this down. So she continued to write. This, of course, has its reasons too. Why shouldn't ghosts keep to themselves, when the needs of food and shelter that other monsters must supply for is taken care of by their incorporeal nature? Why should they show themselves among us when they have been so mythologised by their fellow monsters that they are treated with fear?

Muffet had began awkwardly, but the words now flowed from her quill with greater speed and confidence, as she penned down the thoughts she hadn't realised she had had.

However, she continued, if there is a race understood even more poorly than ghosts, then it is the spiders. All but the Boss Monsters among us are so small that our class as monsters, and as citizens, is frequently questioned. Most of us are incapable of learning the speech that the rest of monsterkind uses, and they certainly make no attempts to learn ours. No one would see any worth in learning the speech of spiders, and it is all the more foolish of them, for we spiders are privy to countless dark and quiet secrets. No one is closer to the earth than us, and we understand how to interpret its silence. Of course, we would never share our secret knowledge with those who treat us this way. Let them think of us as knowing nothing worth learning. It's quite possible that if other races were willing to cooperate with us, we might have broken the Barrier by now.

It is common knowledge that ghosts are able to enter and leave the Underground at will, but much less so that this is a trait we spiders share. Spiders may be weak, but we possess a unique innate magic. I do not fully understand it myself. It may be that the earth is aware we listen to her, and speaks to us in return – directing us to the nooks and gaps that exist in the ceiling of our underground world that went unnoticed by the humans. We cannot simply pass through solid rock as our cousins, the ghosts, can, but we have our ways. The earth has granted us the power to travel between the two worlds that humankind split her into – a power she grants no other creature.

I have always felt a certain kinship between we spiders and the ghosts. My mother always taught me that they are a hidden ally that we must not forget. We are both poorly understood by both monsters and humans. We both live in secrecy away from those who would shun us; we each keep to our own, and follow our own customs, our own traditions. And we are both the only races capable of leaving the Underground while the Barrier remains closed.

I hope that during my time as queen, I will be able to forge an alliance – and a friendship – with the ghosts. That is what my mother would have wanted. I hope that the Underground will know that although Poppet has passed, the spiders remain proud, and able.

Listen to me ramble on, my dear diary. It's growing late, and tomorrow promises to be a busy day. There is no time to waste. I must thank you for indulging me. Ahuhu!

Until next time,
Muffet~