To Be Devoured by Tantlinger Sara

Author:Tantlinger, Sara [Tantlinger, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Unnerving
Published: 2019-07-29T05:00:00+00:00

5

Neon red numbers glare across the smooth clock face on the nightstand. Strange ringing tones from my dream transition into the waking world. It’s 3:00AM and Mr. Landon’s name glows on my cellphone’s screen. He’s had my cell number ever since my mom died; after all, it’s only him and me out here.

Before he started telling Luna lies about my skipping therapy sessions, he really always was a decent neighbor.

Did he see me steal the piglet?

A thin sheen of sweat sticks to my neck and forehead.

“Hello?” I answer groggily.

“You all right up there?” His normal crotchety voice is laced with notes of concern.

“Yes, why?”

“Heard something strange and the dogs have been going wild. Think a coyote got one of my pigs the other night, but now I’m thinking it might have been a person.”

“Oh,” I say. “Why is that?”

“A few reasons.” He’s being dodgy and red flags start waving in my head.

“Oh.” The glow of my phone casts faint light across my bare legs tangled in the sheets. Dried blood flakes off my free hand, but I can’t find any open wounds. Maybe I flung around while sleeping and sliced my hand on the nightstand’s corner.

Nothing. There are no cuts or scrapes on my skin.

Mr. Landon breaks the silence. “You sure everything is fine?”

“Yes.” I swallow hard and my throat is a desert. “I’m good.”

“And what about Princess Jasmine, she okay?”

I roll my eyes. Maybe he thought it was a compliment. “Do you hear how that’s racist, or is it just not a factor for you?”

“Oh shush up now,” he says, annoyed. “You know I ain’t mean nothing by it. She okay?”

An audible sigh escapes my lips, and I put the phone on speaker to examine both hands. Dried up chips of blood dot the sheet and blankets. Two bent, black feathers are stuck to the dried blood. Vulture feathers? I’d been collecting feathers on the porch for a while now in an old wicker basket, but I don’t remember going to look for more last night.

“We’re both fine. She left hours ago.”

“Then why’s her car still at your house?”

My clammy palms and fingertips slip across the nightstand lamp as I fumble for the small switch. “Jesus, old man, none of your fucking business. She’s fine.”

There’s a long pause and my chest tightens with an uncomfortable, warbling sensation.

“Luna’s fine,” I insist.

“She better be.”

He hangs up and my heart plummets.

Did I hurt Luna?

I throw on a coat and some boots and run outside. Luna’s cherry red car is indeed still parked in the driveway. My mind can’t make sense of the vehicle’s still-life existence in my yard, but I know I would never hurt her. I love her.

The blood on my hands… It has to be from another piglet. Mr. Landon’s lights are on in his house across the field. I retreat back inside and scurry into the shower. Burning drops of water scald my flesh between vigorous scrubbing. When the scarlet stains are gone, my knees give out and my body slides down the shower door.

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