Getting to Know Your Everyday House Centipede
This is quite possibly one of the most unsettling creatures you can run into when you’re halfway under a bed. They’re all legs and mandibles and antennae, like a tracked vehicle with hair. And you just know Vincent D’Onofrio probably let them crawl all over him or some shit while he was studying to be Edgar in Men In Black.
But what are these hideous little monsters and can they hurt us?
Know Your Bugs: Centipedes Vs. Millipedes
First off, neither centipedes nor millipedes are true “bugs.” That designation is reserved for the Hemipteran order of insects and since neither centipedes nor millipedes are insects (6 legs, 3 body sections), well, they ain’t bugs either.
Anywho, here are some interesting centi/milli facts:
1. Both are in the subphylum Myriapoda, meaning “many legs”
2. Both are metameric, meaning their bodies are divided into mostly identical segments which is sort of obvious and lame until you know that humans have an evolutionary remnant of metamerization – our backbone’s repeating spinal discs
3. Millipedes are round and rolly, centipedes are flat and sassy
4. Millipedes always have two pairs of legs per body segment, centipedes have one
5. Centipedes always have an odd number of pairs of legs
Now that you can tell them apart in general, let’s talk about that fleet-footed beast that keeps running from cardboard box to cardboard box in your basement.
The Biggest Little Predator in Your House
House centipedes (some call them “thousand-leggers” or “million-leggers”) are rather ubiquitous varmints. They originated in the Mediterranean but are now common in the U.S., from Massachusetts on past the Rockies – though in climates with cold winters they live almost solely indoors.
Believe it or not, they’re top predators in their food chain and will hunt anything from silverfish, firebrats, worms, fly larvae and carpet beetle larvae to bedbugs, cockroaches, spiders and snails.
How do they do this? Well, Scutigera coleoptrata is more than just 15 pretty pairs of legs. Unlike most centipedes, these buggers have big, pseudofaceted eyes capable of tracking prey. And all those legs help them move at speeds up to 16 ½ inches per second – the equivalent of a human sprinting 42 mph.
“House centipedes are incredibly voracious predators,” says Linda S. Rayor of Cornell University during an episode of Syfy’s Monster Bug Wars. “They literally run down their prey.”
Then it’s time for the deathblow.
“The centipede has venomous claws,” says Rayor. “These are evolutionarily-modified front legs that are sickle-shaped organs. [They are] extraordinarily flexible and are able to inject venom into the prey – plus help tear it apart.”
(Note: this is kind of unusual, too. More often it’s a set of mandibles, not legs, that turns into fangs, so the house centipede’s “bite” is really a “sting.”)
And, in the event that the million-legger can grab up a few meals at a time, it can hold several small insects with its mandibles and front legs, making it a veritable Dr. Octopus-style killing machine.
If it wants to go after larger prey, say something it can’t pin down with one “hand,” the house centipede uses its legs to lash at the victim, beating it with its wispy limbs and then “lassoing” it in. Furthermore, they use those big ol’ eyes to make calculated strikes against prey that could potentially do them harm. They’ve been witnessed attacking wasps with a lightning quick strike of venom and then waiting from a safe distance as the poison takes effect.
So, even though they squish readily beneath a piece of tissue paper – and man, the big ones can be juicy – in their world, the house centipede is Sharptooth.
Great, Now How Do I Get Rid of Them?
Other than the aforementioned method of squishing, where you’ll have to be prepared for some detached legs that will keep kicking for a while after death, the best way to eradicate house centipedes is to remove the food source – i.e. all the little bugs upon whom they’re feasting.
But since they’ll happily do the job for you, why bother? House centipedes can almost never pierce human skin with their sting – though if they do, it’s the pain equivalent of a bee sting. They can live up to a few years and they actually mother their offspring for about two weeks, which is sort of precious.
They clean up the riff raff, keep to themselves, don’t stink or make a mess. And they eat bedbugs. Hell, you should be honored to have them.
Bittel Me More
If you like getting up close and personal with arthropods, be sure to watch Rayor on Monster Bug Wars – a delightful Science Channel program about bugs murdering each other.
Update
As pointed out to me by “vikeau” on Vinnie Vidi Vici – a lovely, Vincent D’Onofrio-centric blog – house centipedes can also be called “zillapedes,” which I rather like.













9 Comments
LOL, there should be a contest to come up with different names for this insect, but vikeau would no doubt win with hers. Thanks for the plug!
Ha, you bet: “Name That Centipede!”
There I was, minding my own business, reading some Steinbeck when my best buddy in the seventh grade said, “Dude, did you see that spider? It ran right out of your shirt sleeve!” As I was flailing off my flannel overshirt (these were the high days of grunge, mind you), a fat, three-inch centipede scuttled down the sleeve. The leggy bugger–excuse me, Hemipterror–had been in my shirt _all morning_. And, okay, maybe it wasn’t three inches, but it hardly mattered, because when you’ve got a venomous top predator stowed under your clothing, it might as well be a foot long. (Speaking of which, I think there’s a species of centipede in the Amazon that can grow up to a foot. The thing’s got armored plating and has been known to kill small dogs. Probably hangs out in the parka sleeves of very large men.) Our basement, where we unwisely kept our clean laundry in a highly accessible heap, was crawling with centipedes. There were so many, my older brother used to hunt them with a blowgun.
My tolerance for walking mustaches has barely budged in the twenty years since then. I’m much more comfortable with a spider hanging out in the corner. I know I should teach my progeny to respect all living creatures. But whaddya say we keep it to eight legs, eh?
Paul: you’re probably not going to like this video of a centipede killing a snake then. http://bit.ly/zQmrKs
Have you ever heard of them crawling in someone’s ear?
Hmm, no Sherry I haven’t. The full grown mamas wouldn’t fit. And the small ones are pretty skittish. I’d say you’re safe!
I’m more afraid of spiders and cockroaches crawling and staying in one’s ear.
Will 1000 leggers poison be strong enough to hurt my cat. caught him playing with one this morning and scared he might get hurt.
Sara, your cat should be fine. In humans, house centipede venom feels like that of a bee sting. But it’s extremely unlikely it would be able to penetrate human skin, let alone get past a cat’s layer of fur and THEN puncture its skin. Looks like you just got a new cat toy.