Subcutaneous Magazine Fall 2016 - Page 39

Harry had been walking through suburbia all day. As night fell, he decided to cut between two houses through backyards and to other streets. He stopped, hiding behind some bushes whenever he saw movement. Lights from one home in particular drew him closer. A figure appeared in one of the windows. It was a woman, and he was amazed that he recognized her: the ball-squeezing nurse from the hospital. A fury grew inside Harry, and he snuck to the back door. He somehow knew it would be unlocked, and he slowly turned the knob, letting himself in through a small laundry room. He snuck through the house, finding the nurse in the den, sitting on a sofa with her back to him. He carefully walked in, making little noise. He crept up to within a few feet of her before she noticed him and screamed. “I see you remember me,” Harry said through gritted teeth, lunging over the couch. He tackled the nurse with an inhumane strength, dragging her to the floor. He ripped her pajama pants down, covering her mouth with the forearm of his left arm. “I’m not sure how well my cock works,” Harry said, pulling down his pants, “but I know it still has feeling, thanks to you.” Harry raped the nurse, paying her back with added interest for what she had done to him. She struggled against him, but he was able to keep her down with his good arm. His forearm slipped from her mouth, and she screamed. He wondered if anyone would hear, but he managed to keep plunging into her. Halfway through, Harry’s body stiffened and he fell, reeling onto his back. His body was in immense pain again, and he couldn’t move his appendages. Instead of feeling the hard, wooden floor on his back, he felt soft mattress. “That’s right,” the nurse said, cooing. She appeared out of the corner of his filmy, opalescent eyes. “Just lie there.” Harry was no longer in the nurse’s home. He was back in the white hospital room and his body was once again wracked with pain. He couldn’t move. The nurse was in her pink scrubs again, holding a pillow. She moved it, placing it over his nose and mouth, putting just enough pressure to keep his decrepit body from moving. As stars swam into his vision, already darkened by the pillow, he wondered how much of what he had seen since the plane crash had been a dream and w Ё݅́ɕ($)!é䁙ɐɽ䁝ɽչ́ɽɕلQЁ͍́)Mձ͍́ɕɽչȵ́Ʌɽٕ̰ɅѼѡ)ɽչݥѠѡȁɅȵ̸͡ ɥݸ!é䁅́1Սȁѽٕȁ!͡ѕѼ)Ѽɕ͕!՝Ёѡ̰ЁѼم!݅́ݥѼݡѕٕȁЁѽȁ́ɕ)ɽѡɕɕ́ݡݕɔ($)1Սȁѽٕȁ!䁅՝ܰՙѥͽչqeԁٔɕɹt()Qѱ胊qQ=5éϊt)ѥ5Ʌ((0