Black Static #43 Horror Magazine (Nov--Dec 2014) by 2014 Nov-Dec (retail) (epub)

Black Static #43 Horror Magazine (Nov--Dec 2014) by 2014 Nov-Dec (retail) (epub)

Author:2014 Nov-Dec (retail) (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: TTA Press
Published: 2014-11-08T00:00:00+00:00


MANY-EYED MONSTERS

ALIYA WHITELEY

When the first one emerged from my mouth it interrupted one of the rare luxurious moments of my life. I was indulging in a bit of pampering, in the textbook fashion; the kind that would make other women jealous. A deep bubble bath. White wine, the condensation forming on the slippery curve of the glass. Candle flames swaying to mood music, and the rise and fall of my breasts as I breathed in the steam. It was meant to be a perfect example of luxurious relaxation, and yet I could see clearly the valley of wrinkles, that crisscross of aging skin, between those shining globes of mine. No amount of white wine was going to take away the persistent thought that I really needed to moisturise more often.

It started as a feeling of fullness. Cold wine in a hot stomach, I thought, but then the feeling moved. It became a tug, an ache, and it climbed inside me, higher, higher, until my throat was tight and sore. I sat up and put my hand to my neck, leaning over the side of the bath, caught in that fight between the desire and the disgust of sickness. And then I opened my mouth, heaved my chest, and out it popped.

A small, wrinkled bag of skin. A bag of skin that had eyes.

It watched me. There were so many eyes, each with its own lid and lashes. Brown, green, hazel, grey, and one very blue one, right at the top of its fleshy, circular body that resembled my own skin, although it was slick with mucus. Did the slime come from my stomach, or was it creating its own sticky substance? I don’t know.

I do know it didn’t repulse me. It was much like anything that the body produces. It’s difficult to be really appalled by the smell of your own faeces, or the chunkiness of your vomit; after all, these things come from inside you. And so I felt – not much, actually. I poked it with my foot, and then tried to scoop it up with the aim of flushing it down the toilet. The skin pouched under my fingers, and the thing shuddered. That was when I realised it had feelings.

I crouched down, and made eye contact with it. I chose a pair of brown ones that happened to be close to each other.

“Hello,” I said.

It rolled forward, closing each eyelid in turn as it travelled over them, and pushed itself against my right ankle.

Magnetism – that’s the only way I can describe it. A force sucked it in and held it tight against me. It was warm and wet, attached to the hollow underneath my ankle bone. A hum passed through my foot and spread upwards, until a tingling sensation reached my head and left me dizzy.

The eyes that were turned in my direction all held the same expression. Love. I felt that it loved me. It was my many-eyed monster.

“You can’t stay,” I told it. I tried to pull it free, as gently as possible, but it wouldn’t budge.



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