Subcutaneous Magazine Fall 2016 - Page 16

He felt it move. The girl’s tongue curled inside his mouth like a snake straining to wrap itself around his. Long icy fingers caressed the back of his neck in a lover’s embrace, and the girl’s body moved and grinded as if she were trying to crush herself against him. He opened his eyes, opened them wide and tore his lips from hers. She was staring right at him. “Hello, William,” she said, and as she spoke she reached for the glass figurine he had placed at her side. The statue exploded into fragments in her hands. A small shard tore into Will’s chest, and as he watched the trickle of blood spill from it, she leaned forward. Her tongue traced the thin stream that dripped from the gashed skin, and when she raised her face to his, her mouth dripped with his blood. “Your words have made us one,” she said as she drew herself to him. There was something familiar about her voice. Something so familiar… But she was again searching for his mouth, kissing him hungrily with a mixture of licks, bites, and chews. She pushed him down upon the table and climbed on top of him, her mouth still pressed to his. He pushed her aside and struggled for breath but her mouth again sought his. His eyes had remained open, and his hands slid along her back in an exhausted attempt to hold her off him. He felt something along her spine, a small lump that heaved and bubbled beneath her skin as if something inside were trying to get out. And through his fingers he felt the flesh of her back separate, tear, then explode. A pulpous object that looked like an enormous weed pushed itself out of her and grew like a pulsating tumor behind her. She straddled on top of him and he saw her silhouetted against the single light that shone from the morgue’s ceiling. He heard a sound an umbrella makes when it snaps open, a sound like a huge sheet flapping in the wind. Wings had sprouted from her back, thin membranous ݥ́ѡЁݡٔ͹Ёѡ)ѡݥ́аȁѡ͔($+ѡ͡ѕɕɥ!Ёȁ́ɕͥ)Ё́аݡЁѡ)ݡЁݽձ͕1ɐх́ɽՑ)ɽȁ̰ٕ́ѡЁѽɔЁ́Ё)͡($)!݅ѕѼ͍ɕЁѡ͍ɕ)́ѡɽи($+qeԁٕ͕ٔѼt͡ͅݥѠ)Ցqeԁٔѡݽɑ́ѡ)ѡЁѥѡЁѡЁ́ԁѼeԁٕٔ)ȁ䁙ɕѼ9ȁݔɔt($)Y͍ɄЁٕݥѼձ䁕ѥٔ)Qɽˊéݽɑ́]é̸!յ)Ʌٕ́ɕ䰁ѡѽ́ѡݽ́Ʌ)ѽ́͡ݕɔչͅ䁥Ʌͥѡ) Ё͔͡ɕ)͕ɕѼѡݥэȰݥэ)ݥѠѡݕȁ䁅ٔѠ$($+s9ȁ́ȁѼ)ѡ́ѥհչݽéͥɕ̇t͡)ɥ́͡Ցѡ͵Ѡ͠ѡ͡)܁ѕMݸЁ]͵()Ёѡ͵Ёхѡ)ѡݡЁɕq%Ё݅́ͥ)хͬѼɅѡ́չݽ]9Ёȁ)ݽݡ͕ٕ́Ʌɥ́t͡ͅ)ѡɳé́͠ЁѥѼͽ͔+q Ё$͕ѡ͕́ȁ䁽ѡɕ)Ёȁɽ䁡$܁͡ݽձЁ)͕Mɑ䁕՝ѥѼٕѡՅ՜Ёȁ䁙ɥ̸չݡɔ)ѱѼȁɽݽݥѠѼ)Qɰݥ䁥Ѽ䁍Ȱ])ٕȁՕѥݡ$ɕٕ͍ɘt($+qQȁ́ԁѼt]ͭ)ѡݽ͵($+qeԁٔѡͅѡЁ́Ѽȸ))Ё́ЁݥԁѼt͡ݕɕś$)܁ѡ́ɳéݽձ役Ѽ)$ѕɕѡȁЁѡЁȁ͔ѡЁ$)ЁЁЁЁѡ%ѕхє5ѕ%)́ѡݥ͍ٕȁݽé͔)Mи٥éMɕЁ]=͔啅)ѡЁݽѥհչ)ɰݡͼ݅ѡɕЁєЁа͕ѡ)ѡЁݽձt($)Qݥэɱ䁡ɹȁɅи])܁͡хȁݱɽѡ)ЁȁѼѡ͵ѽݸ]ѽ)ݡٕȁѡɕѕ͡܁ѡݽɑ)ѡЁݽձȁѥհɔ($)݅́͡ͼٕ䁉ѥհ($)]ȁ݅ѕѼ͍ɕ9܁)ݡЁ݅́݅ѕͼ܁ݡ)9ѡݥэȰ݅ѕ($)!ɕȁѡɰЁѡѡ)ݽ́ɽ՝ЁȁѼ̸!)ٔѽѡȁݥѠѠѡݽɑ́ѡͅ)܁ݽձѡѽѡȁݥѠ)ѡȁ̸!͕ѡɳé݅ɴѠѱ)͡ɕѡхѼͥȁ)ɕѥ́͡ձȁ́͡ɽ́иq9tݡɕѼѡݥɕɔ)ɵ̸($)!݅ѕѼȁɔ)͡ѽɔ́Ёи($($((0