Tag: body horror

Two Sentence Stories (part 27)

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Infections, illness, exposure – it’s amazing that what was once a death sentence in olden times are now barely an inconvenience.

As the witch settled into a new town, she was glad that some solutions were forgotten over time.

It made sense that the starving survivors on the raft agreed to draw straws to choose which of them to eat. After all, as long as they kept bleeding to a minimum, the meat could be kept fresh.

When I found the hidden microphones, I realised the “ghostly voice” that encouraged me to do terrible things had been my husband all along.

It was sweet of him to teach me to hide the bodies without taking credit

In Growth

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He’d been scratching at the spot all day. It was right below his jawline, amongst three days’ worth of stubble. It wasn’t very noticeable, just a small red bump, but it vexed him to no end.

He’d gone to the bathroom twice at work hoping he could squeeze it, but it was yet to come to a head.

He was tempted to buy tweezers from the chemist on his way to the station, but the idea of using the mirror in a public restroom put him off immediately. He couldn’t imagine the horror of someone walking in on him.

Funnily, by the time he was home, he’d forgotten the bump. He’d been sufficiently distracted on his trip, and his hunger became his main focus.

It was after dinner that he felt the itch.

Finally in his clean and well-lit bathroom, he pulled out his tweezers from the grooming kit and scraped the skin he pulled taut with his other hand. A small black spike burst through – an ingrown hair, he thought while still pulling.

And pulling.

It was longer than he’d ever grown his beard and tapered where the tweezers held the tip, widening as he drew the strand out.

By the time he stopped pulling, it was out far enough to bend and find purchase on his jawline as the seven other legs followed.

Sacrifice

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“you chose to get pregnant, you shouldn’t complain about it”

“you should just be glad your baby is healthy”

“you’re tired now? It’ll be ten times worse when he arrives!”

It doesn’t matter how excited I am, my body still aches.

It doesn’t matter how long I prayed for this, it’s frustrating to have to wake up multiple times a night to waddle to the bathroom

It doesn’t matter what I sacrificed for this, it’s  getting tedious hearing the rapturous voice of the unborn repeating his dark plans for ascent.

Just let me complain, sheesh.

Falling Apart

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Her plans were cancelled again

While she waited at the bar

And for first time that week

She let herself fall apart

*

First, a button fell

Then, a buckle from her shoe

And when her handbag fell

Her hand went with it too

*

Tears fell, of course

And her knees then hit the ground

Then it was her tongue

And her sobs made no sound

*

Finally, she lost her mind

Loosening constraint

Tonight she would fall apart

Tomorrow, pull it together again.

Imposter

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It was thrilling, sitting in the crowded restaurant, waiting for my date.

Her photos caught my attention immediately: her soft, wavy hair resting atop heavily tattooed shoulders. Twinkling blue eyes and a small smile. I immediately matched with her, wondering what would happen.

Those weren’t my date’s photos. I had met Amanda weeks ago. The blonde and went on 3 dates before I ended things.

But now I waited for ” Samantha”, keen to find out what the scam was.

I had picked a local restaurant I regularly visited. If the point was to waste my time and stand me up I’d come out ahead.

As I waited, I mulled on my few dates with Amanda. She had told me the meanings of the vine and rose tattoos around her shoulders. She tossed her hair behind her should so many times I wanted to tell her to tie it back. She had bored me.

But I remembered her fondly, in the end. We had what fun we could together, and I always treasure those memories.

I kept an eye on the door. My bet was that a blonde would come through them. She would be a little older, fatter or less attractive than my Amanda. Claim the photos were old, or in bad lighting. I planned to play along, just have some fun and make some new memories.

She looked exactly like the photos.

Tossing her hair back as she looked around, I was so surprised that my date was able to approach and sit down before I could react.

“Hello again” she said in Amanda’s voice. Huskier, deeper than I remembered.

I went to stand, but she grabbed my arm tightly. Too tight. Amanda never had that kind of strength.

My arm was pulled across the table, drawing all of my body closer to her. To anyone else, it would look like a quiet conversation between lovers.

I saw her tattoos, intricate and expansive. I saw her unblemished skin, without scars or marks where I knew there should be. Where wounds should be. In those places I instead saw the tattoos not quite aligning: lines separated, flowers cut in bisected and not quite made whole. As though the skin healed perfectly, but was pulled over a different shape.

As her smile widened, I saw the corners of her mouth bleed, like the skin was pulled too tight.

As her nails drew blood, I realised I was wrong. That this person didn’t look exactly like the photos. Those sparkling blue eyes, which I last saw glassy and unblinking, which I closed myself, were a different colour.

Growth

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It was a disgusting habit, but Renee just couldn’t help it as she clicked on the next video.

There was something inherently satisfying in watching popping videos. Seeing people evicting the parts of themselves that were not meant to be there. As a result, Renee often found herself looking resentfully at her own growth.

She was certain she’d seen every video available online in just the last few weeks, watching them under covers so that the roommate lying next to her wouldn’t see. Renee knew she would be upset and repulsed.

Still, she needed to see more. She watched more serious removals. People gouging out larger pieces and repairing the patches left with stitches or filling them with superglue. Salving pieces until the flesh burned and pucks fell out. Her roommate noticed how tired Renee looked, but when she claimed to be feeling fine, her smile was very convincing.

Eventually she found herself watching surgery videos. People had operated on themselves before, in desperate circumstances: caesareans and appendectomies in remote locations with no other options. She felt along the edge of her growth and made a decision. She began gathering the necessary materials in secret.

The hard part was making sure that her roommate wouldn’t disrupt her. A blow to the head sorted that easily.

With all the tools at her disposal, Renee looked at the flesh that connected her to her growth, which was now mumbling as blood pooled from her head.

It didn’t matter what the doctors had told them. She could do this, she repeated as she made the first cut.

An Anniversary

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Our loved ones come to visit
For one raucous night each year
With creaking limbs to dance with us
And familiar smiles from ear to ear

They never do look quite right
Not quite what we remember
But we greet and embrace them all
Our long-lost, well-loved family members

Anne’s grandpa walked with a cane
But tonight he seems quite spry
Unfurling his crooked spine
She laughs as he lifts her to the sky

Roy’s wife had beautiful eyes
Shining, like a new penny
And as he meets her smiling gaze
He can’t recall her having so many

The barman was a large man
Muscled and barrel-chested
Now from his torso spouted beer
Twas superb, the drinkers attested

Mother sang sweet as a bird
Her voice now comes like a wave
Singing about next year’s crops
As I help her step out of her grave

For only one night each year
Never more but rarely less
We celebrate with the dead
Before we put them all back to rest

It is known by all who live
That death comes with morning light
So reunite with weapons close
They only recall us that first night