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Message-ID: <63856asstr$1485036604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Andrew Wood <mongolsamurai@gmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Sin Like Silk (no sex, horror, tf, tort, psych)
Lines: 912
Date: Sat, 21 Jan 2017 17:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "skin-like-silk.wrapped.txt" begin>

***************
* Notice: some tags dealing with dark topics have
*  been omitted in this listing for the sake of
*  preserving dramatic tension.
*
* The story doesn't contain any descriptions of
*  sex or graphic violence, though violence and
*  torment are major themes.
*
* This story explores fear, torment, corruption,
*  and loss of self identity. I originally meant
*  for it to contain sex, but it just didn't fit.
* What came out instead was an exploration of some
*  of the things that I find most compelling in
*  erotic horror, but it is almost certainly not
*  going to be erotic to everyone.
* My focus here is more on transformation through
*  adversity, than torture or cruelty for its own
*  sake, as the latter doesn't interest me.
*
* I welcome feedback, especially constructive
*  criticism. Thanks for reading!
***************

A dark mood was brewing in Alicia Castillo's mind, a perfect match for the 
coffee brewing in the KitchenAid on her counter. It was barely 8 AM, but 
already she had a suspicion that it was going to be one of those days that 
makes you wish you could have just slept through to the next one. She 
considered calling in sick, but decided against it, her boss was already 
making her work Saturday and taking a day off would only make things worse.
She'd gone to bed early last night but couldn't get to sleep, tossing and 
turning for hours. When her alarm went off this morning it felt as if 
she's just closed her eyes, and she hated being short on sleep. Work was 
going to be hectic as usual, the office had been in panic mode all week as 
the Downtown Business Alliance prepared for the big labor day parade that 
happened every year. To make things worse she was out of orange juice and 
yogurt, meaning her usual breakfast routine was throughly disrupted, and 
vague recollections of some disturbing dream kept popping into her head 
unwanted, then vanishing into smoke before she could figure out what the 
dream had been. Something about being watched by something evil, or 
watching something evil, or being an evil watch, she didn't remember.
Half an hour and two toaster waffles later she was turning the key in her 
ignition, cup of coffee in hand, and taking off down her long driveway 
like a race horse leaping from the gate. The trees were changing colors 
early this year, still two days until September and already the canopy was 
starting to show streaks of yellow and red, but Alicia didn't bother to 
notice. She'd lived in New York for seven years now, and she was more 
concerned with the twenty minute drive to town, and the glowing dashboard 
clock which now read 8:39.
In a classic turn of bad luck, parking was particularly elusive this 
morning. Arriving late, she had barely gotten in the door when two people 
leaped forward calling her name, and proceeded to try to pull her in two 
directions at once. Within minutes the irritations of her morning routine 
were lost and buried beneath a heap of important tasks and looming 
deadlines. By the time she was getting back in her car, significantly 
after 5, she was mentally exhausted and looking forward to a quiet bath 
and an easy dinner.

Easy dinner ultimately came down to low-fat frozen cuisine. It wasn't 
exactly satisfying, but the bath that followed it surely was. It wasn't 
until she was standing in her bedroom in a bath towel that she remembered 
her troubled dreams the night before. She felt some trepidation none the 
less as she climbed under the covers--work was hard enough right now, even 
with a good night's sleep. But her bed looked wonderfully comfortable and 
peaceful, and within moments her eyes closed and she slipped into slumber.

***
Wandering, lost, tired, through black woods. The trees towered, and 
silently wept as they stretched toward the starry sky, looking for 
purpose. Someone followed her now, staying out of sight, lashing the 
trees, tormenting them. She looked around, and saw to the left that the 
trees had lurched into order, forming a long, long corridor with no end 
and no exit. Fear, now. She looked back, but it was too late. To the right 
was another wall of wood, and she was stuck. She began to run, calling out 
for help, but the only answer was the echoes of her own voice, and the 
whispering of her pursuer. They had her now. She didn't know who, it 
didn't matter, there were no choices to make any more. Only running 
forward, toward whatever fate was planned for her. Like a rat in a maze.
***

Morning found Alicia sweaty, tangled in her sheets. She rose grudgingly. 
Her eyes were crusty and her neck hurt, and she felt as if she hadn't 
slept more than a few hours. Her dream was more vivid this time. The same 
thing, over and over, and each time she hoped it would end differently but 
each time it had been the same awful certainty that she was not in 
control. Work didn't help matters, and a lingering sensation of being 
trapped, boxed in by someone else's rules, stuck stubbornly with her. 
Excesses of coffee kept her awake, but gave her the jitters, and she had a 
throbbing headache by the end of the day.
Back at home that evening, the idea of food didn't even appeal to her. The 
only thing she wanted was a long bath. The quiet and the comforting warmth 
provided her the first measure of peace she felt like she'd had since her 
bath the previous night. She'd planned to sort some mail and pay some 
bills tonight, but she couldn't muster the willpower to rise from the tub 
until the water had cooled to nearly room temperature. When she finally 
did, she was too tired to do anything more than straighten her twisted 
sheets and climb under them.

***
Walking through the streets of an unknown city, the buildings empty and 
dark. All around were people, but they were blind to her presence, trapped 
in a deep sleep from which she knew there was no escape. Some stood dumbly 
on the sidewalks, eyes closed, breathing slowly, others sprawled behind 
the wheels of lifeless cars. She was ravenously hungry, but none of them 
woke to help her find a meal. In her frustration she struck one, but 
seeing him tumble to the ground like a rag doll was even worse than his 
silence, and she quickly moved on. Finally she spied a supermarket down 
the street, lit by only a few failing lights, and just like that she was 
inside wandering the isles. She reached for an apple and bit into it 
hungrily, but all she tasted was oily, flaking ash. Screaming in 
frustration she spit out a mouthful of powder, and grabbed a tomato from 
an adjacent rack. It was plump and smelled ripe, but her first bite 
yielded only a thin, rotting pulp. Weeping in frustration she wandered the 
isles, sweeping cans from the shelves and tearing open bags of bread and 
frozen peas, but everything she tried turned to waste on her tongue, and 
in the pit of her stomach her hunger gnawed ever more fiercely.
***

She woke, mouth foul with dried saliva, pillow wet with drool. Her 
headache was back, this time a sharp stabbing at the base of her skull. 
She opened her eyes to look at her clock, but a dark shape looming in the 
pre-dawn murk outside her window caught her eye first.
Briefly, she thought it was a face, as dark as the trees behind. It had a 
short, powerful snout and was framed in long, narrow, pointed ears. The 
edges of the shape were vague, blurry, but the eyes were just an empty 
blackness, like holes in the night, and she knew they watched her. Fear 
shot down her spine and chilled her to the bone, and she screamed. As 
suddenly as she'd seen it, it was gone. Her scream trailed off uncertainly 
and she blinked, watching the spot, but nothing reappeared. Just the dark 
shapes of trees silhouetted against the slightly-less-dark background of 
the sky. She looked at her clock carefully, afraid to take her eyes off 
the window for long. '6:17', the glowing display told her.
When the gremlin failed to reappear after several minutes, and no 
suspicious sounds troubled her further, she finally decided she hadn't 
been fully awake yet. It had only been a dream. Exhausted, she laid down 
again and closed her eyed, but sleep didn't come, only the image of the 
face she'd seen. She considered calling in sick again, but she resolved to 
get up anyways since laying in bed wasn't making her feel any better.
She was hungry this morning, and she had plenty of time after showering 
and dressing, so she made herself a scramble with some frozen hash browns, 
and was pleased to find that they tasted exactly as they should. Feeling 
heartened after a greasy, diner-style breakfast, she gathered up her keys 
thinking maybe she'd go in to work early. She'd get the coffee started so 
she could get her fill before everyone else came looking, and get some 
extra work done.
Stepping outside deflated her confidence neatly. Something savage had 
happened to her car. Three tires were blown out, and shredded beyond 
explanation. Two windows were cracked, and long scratches and dents marred 
the doors and the hood. She shivered and looked around, suddenly feeling 
unsafe. Retreating quickly to the warmth and safety of her house, she sat 
down at her dining room table again and stared at the salt shaker blankly 
for a few moments. The pain in her head swelled as if it were feeding off 
her fear, and she felt like there was a heavy stone on her chest.

Fishing her phone out of her purse she called work, and informed the 
message machine she was having a personal emergency, and she wouldn't be 
able to make it today. After that she called her insurance company and 
informed them that she wanted to file a claim, making a vague statement 
about a freak natural disaster. Next was a tow service. Two hours, the 
said. She sighed heavily and put her phone down, then went to get some 
ibuprofen.
She was closing the medicine cabinet, pill bottle in hand, when she 
thought she saw a dark silhouette in the reflection of the small bathroom 
window. A cold chill shot down her spine, and she whirled to look but saw 
nothing. Hurrying back into the kitchen, she picked up her phone, and 
stared at it for a moment. Her first instinct was to call the police, but 
she thought better of it. It was just nerves and sleep deprivation. She 
considered several options, then flipped open her phone and made a call.
"Carrie... It's Alicia. I'm so sorry to call you this early. No. I mean 
I'm fine, I'm just having a rough few days. Look, I'm calling in to work 
today. Yeah. No, I haven't been sleeping, I'm kind of a wreck right now. 
No, I'm okay, just... The craziest thing happened. My car got mauled by a 
bear or something. Last night. I don't know what time. Yeah, I called a 
tow truck but they're going to be a while, and I don't know if it's safe 
here. Look, I'm sorry to ask, but do you think you could drive out here? I 
feel like I'm going to have a breakdown. Work, I think... Things have been 
hectic, you know, with the big day coming up. That would be great. I'll 
make breakfast, or something. Thank you so much, I owe you one. How long? 
Sure, great, see you soon."

The next forty five minutes passed in ominous stillness, during which 
Alicia could not keep her mind from wandering. Her dream had faded from 
her memory by now, but images and impressions kept resurfacing without 
context, causing her an unquantifiable discomfort. She listened intently 
to the stillness that filled the house, unsure what she was listening for. 
Her instincts murmured that something disastrous was about to happen, but 
she couldn't find a reason why.
Finally, she heard an engine and the crunch of fallen leaves under tires, 
and she shook herself out of her reverie. She turned on the porch light, 
but refused to open the door until her friend knocked, and she peeked out 
to be sure it was in fact her. Satisfied she opened the door and Carrie 
stepped inside, yawning and smiling halfheartedly. Ingredients were 
gathered and a second round of breakfast cooking began. Much to her 
surprise, Alicia cooked and ate a second breakfast for herself. She hadn't 
realized how hungry she was until the eggs were in the pan again. Her 
friend looked as if she wanted to tease her over it, but she restrained 
herself. As they ate Carrie asked for more details. Had she heard 
anything? How did she know it was a bear? Was anything else damaged? 
Alicia really had no interest in dwelling on it, and avoided answering as 
much as possible.
Shortly after cleanup was complete the gravelly diesel roar of a large 
truck engine came creeping up the driveway, and was followed a minute 
later by a quick honk. The two women went outside and found the driver 
already lining up with the back wheels of the mauled vehicle. Before long 
Alicia's car was loaded and on the way to the shop, and the women were 
climbing into Carrie's small Mazda. An hour later they stood in Carrie's 
living room, in an urban second-story flat.

The friend yawned again, and headed for the shower. Sitting on the couch, 
Alicia realized she hadn't considered her plans from here on out very 
extensively. She didn't relish the idea of going home any time soon, with 
some sort of wild animal loose in the woods, but she hadn't packed for 
overnight, much less for an extended stay, and besides she wasn't even 
sure if Carrie had room for her.
Her impromptu host emerged from the shower at length, and started getting 
ready for work. Alicia tried to bring up the subject of her staying over, 
but no appropriate opening presented itself, and in short order she was 
left to her own devices. As it turned out, her own devices were rather 
limited, in uptown Wilsonville without a car. The day passed slowly, and 
all the little reasons she didn't live in town started to come back to her 
in the form of muffled voices coming through the walls and the smell of 
exhaust coming through the windows and more. By the time Carrie came home 
little of interest had happened except a call from the body shop citing a 
preliminary estimate for repairs, and Alicia was dramatically bored. Not 
wanting to seem ungrateful she tried to hide her misgivings, and suggested 
that the two of them might go out for dinner and a drink, and make the 
most of the unexpected visit. Carrie had other ideas however, citing 
tiredness in a voice that hinted that Alicia bore at least some of the 
blame. False enthusiasm dampened, Alicia at least managed to extract 
permission to sleep on the couch, which fortunately contained a 
hide-a-bed. Sleep didn't come easy to her, the bed was uneven and hard, 
and the sounds of urban comings and goings made her miss the solitude of 
the country.

The next morning Alicia's friend was in a better mood. They ate breakfast 
together and drove down to the nearest rental agency so Alicia could rent 
a car, before going their separate ways for work. She expected to answer a 
slew of questions about her absence the day before, but no one had the 
time for small talk. The hands crawled around the clock and the day seemed 
to drag on interminably. She couldn't concentrate, her mind kept wandering 
back to her car, the autumn colors in the trees around her house, the dark 
face in the window, and the disturbing dreams she could hardly recall. She 
was ravenous by lunch and she went down the block to a cafe, unwilling to 
risk being teased by her coworkers for eating so much. She wondered what 
could be causing her appetite, but nothing came to mind. The afternoon was 
no better, and by the time she was getting in her car to leave she was 
filled with an urge to do something, anything, that would bring a little 
change of pace. She called Carrie, and suggested dinner out. Alicia would 
pay. She fumed in rush-hour traffic, and arrived at the agreed-upon 
restaurant ten minutes late. They shared orders of chicken chow mein and 
spicy hoisin pork and the entire time Alicia felt a dissatisfied 
restlessness. This pace wasn't enough of a change for her. Maybe it was 
time to cash out some vacation hours.
She suggested catching a movie, but Carrie just laughed and declined. She 
had other business to attend to, and she had to get home. She didn't want 
to go through another night in Wilsonville, and as much as the idea of 
going home seemed like it should be frightening, she found herself longing 
for the quiet and the forest and nights not lit by the yellow miasma of 
street lights.She told Carrie she didn't want to impose on her any more 
and thanked her for the rescue. They parted ways again, and she considered 
going home but ultimately decided against it. Driving towards downtown 
with no real idea of where she was going, she eventually found herself 
parking outside of a seedy, smoky-looking dive that was apparently named 
"COCKTAILS". Her better sense chided her for being reckless and 
irresponsible, but it didn't stop her from going in. She sat at the bar 
and ordered a gin and tonic. She was nearly halfway through her drink 
before some slightly scummy, burnt-out looking 40-something sat next to 
her (conspicuously -- the bar was largely unoccupied) and favored her with 
a worn-thin plastic smile. She took a large gulp of her drink and choked 
it down with a grimace, then mumbled something about going to the juke 
box. She wasn't sure if the guy figured out that this dump didn't have a 
juke box before she made it out the door, but she made it unmolested 
regardless. With a furtive look around and a guilty conscience she started 
her rental and pulled out onto the road back towards home. She drove slow, 
regretting her decision to stop at the bar and looking for a park where 
she could stop and walk off some of her drink, but it was growing dark and 
all she found was a collection of other drivers who expressed their 
displeasure by tailgating her and occasionally honking.

She arrived home mentally fatigued from the gin and from checking her 
mirrors for cops. The sound of the wind in the treetops was a balm to 
soothe her jittery nerves, and all she wanted to think of was climbing 
into bed and turning the lights off. She parked the car along the side of 
her house, intuitively avoiding the spot where her own vehicle had been 
wrecked, and made straight for her bedroom. The window was open a crack. 
She didn't remember leaving it open, but the screen was in place and she 
didn't dwell on it. She was about to shut the window, but the sound of the 
woods filtering in caught her attention, and she changed her mind and 
undressed and climbed under her covers. Sleep found her quickly tonight.
She woke with a start, her heart beating quickly. Something had awoken her 
suddenly, but she wasn't sure what. As her pulse calmed she became aware 
that she was hungry and cold, and needed to have some quality time with 
the toilet. The clock told her it was 4:52. With a sigh she climbed out of 
bed, and immediately the floor twisted under her feet as vertigo played 
hell with her sense of balance. She stumbled once and almost fell back on 
the bed, but quickly adjusted, and made her way to the bathroom.
She was finishing up, washing her hands in the sink, when she noticed 
something strange. The bathroom window appeared to be obscured with 
leaves. Unless she was mistaken, she'd normally be able to see the rental 
car parked beside the house. Something was wrong.
Pulling her robe tighter and finding her slippers, she made for the living 
room and turned on the porch light. Cautiously opening the front door, she 
stepped outside into the cold night air with a deep sense of foreboding. 
Biting back a growing nervousness, she tiptoed off the porch and around 
the corner of the house.It took her a moment to realize that the large 
shadowy mass that faced her was a gum tree, laid out almost perfectly from 
one bumper to the other across the car. The roof looked crushed, and she 
could tell the windows were shattered out. Unnerved, she shuddered 
involuntarily and started back into the house. She closed the front door 
and leaned against it for a moment, made a decision to leave the porch 
light on, then headed for the bedroom to close the window. That done, she 
had paused and was debating whether it was worth going out to the kitchen 
to look for a snack when a loud *thump* from the living room made the 
house shudder.

She froze, and a chill raced up her spine. That couldn't have been her 
imagination. Hesitantly she went to the bedroom door and peeked out down 
the hall. For a moment all was still, then another loud slam made the 
front door shudder and the windows rattle. She heard a crackling, and saw 
the door frame start to give way. Fear crawled up her throat like a swarm 
of spiders, choking her, turning her voice to a faint, dry whisper. Her 
instincts screamed at her to run, but she stood frozen as a third heavy 
blow landed, ripping the door hinges from the frame. The door fell inward 
and landed on the carpet with a muffled *thud*, and behind it, back-lit by 
the reflected glow of the porch lamp, was a tall creature with pointed 
ears, and murky pits for eyes that were blacker than the night behind and 
were watching her intently.
It took a step forward. Its limbs were long and slender, but rippled with 
ropey muscle that clearly gave it strength beyond its seeming. Its face 
was dominated by a short snout, and sharp tusk-like fangs protruded from 
its lower jaw. Its stomach was sunken, and its ribs made visible lines in 
its short black fur, only partly obscured by more wiry muscle. The 
creature looked malnourished, half-starved, and its non-gaze somehow 
expressed ravenous hunger, but it showed strength as it raked two large 
chunks of the broken door frame away with its clawed and spider-like hands.
Alicia found her voice as it stepped calmly across the threshold into her 
home, and she let out a scream of terror and slammed her bedroom door and 
began shoving her bed across the room to form a barricade. She slammed it 
into place just as a slow tearing sound began to emanate from the door. It 
grew louder, and a moment later three dark claws pierced the surface of 
the cheap veneer and slowly tore a hole in the door. Alicia backed towards 
the window, her heart thundering in her ears like a trip hammer as the 
claws withdrew and one of the beast's black-hole eyes peered through and 
fixed on her. She screamed again and turned to the window while behind her 
a smooth tenor growl shot through with a high-pitched white echoed through 
the door. Numb with terror, she clawed the window open and tumbled through 
into the back yard.
Scrambling to her feet, she raced around the corner of the house and 
headed for the driveway. She cleared the side wall of the house and nearly 
ran into the waiting claws of the monster as it came bounding of the front 
porch to head her off. She screamed again and skidded to a stop, nearly 
fell over as she reversed direction and fled the other way towards the 
woods. It growled behind her as it gave chase, but no sharp claws tore 
into her shoulder, no hot carrion breath warmed her shoulders.

After a while, she realized she couldn't hear it behind her any more, and 
she slowed a little so she could listen more carefully. There in the 
forest behind her, in the distance, she thought she could hear long loping 
strides rustling the leaves. She considered trying to climb a tree and 
hide, but she quickly gave it up as a bad plan. She wasn't a good climber, 
and the thing would probably smell her, and then she'd be trapped. She 
swallowed hard and kept running, now venturing a long slow curve back 
towards her house, hoping it wasn't smart enough to catch on and head her 
off. She had to get back to civilization if she had a chance of surviving, 
she jogged every weekend but she couldn't run like this forever and 
besides the night air was chilling her to the bone. She paused a few times 
for just a moment, listening for the sounds of pursuit, but heard nothing 
until a rustle of leaves up ahead gave a moment's warning before the 
creature stepped out from behind a tree. It was ahead and slightly to the 
side, directly between her and home. She let out a breathless sob and 
darted left, but it moved to block her, tracking slightly forward, and she 
had no choice but to turn again and bolt deeper into the forest. Before 
long her breath was coming in ragged gasps, but every time she stopped for 
air she heard distant footfalls behind her. Once more she tried to circle 
back to the road, but again the creature headed her off.
Somehow it never seemed to catch her, though she knew she was tiring, and 
the thought entered her mind that she was being deliberately herded 
towards something. Unbidden, dream images came back to her of fleeing 
through a straight, dark forest row pursued by something unknown. The 
resemblance was uncanny and she felt despair begin to rise within, but she 
kept running, determined not to give up until she couldn't lift a finger 
to defend herself. She ran to exhaustion and beyond, until her lungs were 
fire and her legs were water. Pausing once more, she gulped for air 
desperately and wipe sweat from her brow. Her robe was tattered and 
smeared with dirt, and the intact parts were plastered to her sweat-soaked 
skin, and she was numb with cold. She held her breath for a moment, 
listening for footsteps in the distance, and didn't believe it when she 
heard nothing. She panted again for a few moments then stopped to listen 
again. Silence. Slowly a smile spread across her face, small and desperate 
as if she was afraid to hope. Maybe it had gotten tired of chasing her, 
and gone in search of easier prey.

Slowly, she slid down the tree she leaned against and sank to the ground. 
Still nothing. Her eyes were already starting to close, sleep rushing to 
claim her, but she registered the cold and with a tremendous effort she 
looked around. She had to find shelter, or she could freeze to death out 
here. Slowly she struggled to her feet, it felt like the hardest thing 
she'd ever done but she knew what the alternative was. The sky was 
starting to lighten, and she peered around in the murky twilight. There, 
off to the left, she thought she saw a clearing among the trees. At least 
it was different than the endless willowy birch and gum trees that spread 
off as far as she could see in all other directions. She stumbled towards 
the clearing, registering as she did the soft tinkling of water. Finally 
she broke out of the trees, and saw a small stream trickling through a 
hollow, barely more than a low spot in the forest floor. Her stumble broke 
into a run and she lurched to the stream edge and drank deeply. To hell 
with Giardia, they could cure that at a hospital. She had to survive 
through the night, and find help tomorrow, and she needed water. She 
stopped several times to gasp for air, then went back to sucking cold 
spring water from her hands as fast as she could capture it.
Finally she was satisfied, and she lifted her head and looked around 
warily for anything threatening. The gesture made her feel silly, like a 
wild deer watching for wolves, and with a snort she stood up and 
straightened her robe. She looked up and down the river, finally spying an 
outcropping of rock several hundred yards upstream. With a faint groan, 
she started toward it on uncooperative legs. At length she reached out, 
and was delighted to find a shelter of significant size between the rocks. 
She wasted no time crawling into it, too tired to check for sleeping 
bears, and in moments she was curled up asleep.

***
At home, watching TV, cup of hot chocolate in hand. Warm, comfortable, but 
it's growing dark too fast. And the light is a strange shade of green. 
Turning to look at the windows, she sees thick vines creeping over the 
glass, blocking the late afternoon sunlight with broad green leaves. It 
doesn't matter, she's safe inside with her TV and her hot chocolate. She 
turns back to the TV, but the vines are inside now, crawling up the inside 
of the TV glass, obscuring the nondescript news anchor in the ageless 
tweed suit. She watches disturbed as the vines curl around the news 
anchor's neck and slowly choke the life from him. Cracks form in the 
glass, and with a crash the growth bursts out of the TV and creeps into 
the living room. Panicked, she stands and looks around. Creepers grow and 
spread from the kitchen sink, the toilet bowl, the bedroom door, and 
spread across the walls, slowly strangling and crushing the house, tearing 
it apart board by board. Green all around now, snaking between her ankles 
and covering the carpet. One loops through the handle of her cup and 
carries it away as it grows, crushing the porcelain. Hot chocolate rains 
down, and where it lands little thorn bushes sprout. She screams in 
frustration and distress, and the smell of the plants fills the air, heady 
and savory like herbs. As if in answer to her cry, a great tearing sound 
echoes in her ears as the roof splits open and more vines pour in from 
above. She watches helplessly as her house is consumed by the spreading 
verdant carpet. One by one the walls melt away amid the crackling and 
crunching of tortured timber, and now she can see the more vines covering 
her car, growing through her driveway, and the smell of the vines hangs 
thick in the air. Somehow, over the trees, she sees great green obelisks 
in the distance, shifting and swelling, then crumbling, and she knows that 
she cold walk for miles and miles and see only this destruction, homes and 
roads disintegrating and fading away under the heedless might of nature.
***

She woke slowly, the vivid smell from her dream lingering and following 
into waking life. She opens her eyes slowly. Her vision is blurred, her 
muscles cramped and sore from her run and the cold of the night. Her head 
pounds faintly like a drum beat in the distance, and she realizes slowly 
that the air is hazy and smoky, thick with the smell of burning herbs, and 
something else that made her mouth water. Lifting her head she looks 
outside. The fallen leaves had been cleared away from the entrance to her 
cave, and a low smoky fire smoldered at the cave mouth. She coughed once, 
and tried to make sense of the fire. Rising stiffly with a groan, she 
crawled to the mouth of the cave and inspected the fire. Perhaps some 
hermit had found her and lit a fire to keep her warm. There was nothing 
else around to suggest that anyone else had passed by. Around the fire 
were several sharpened sticks, stuck in the ground and angled out over the 
coals, pieces of meat impaled on the ends and slowly blackening over the 
coals. Vaguely confused but unwilling to question the good fortune, she 
sat down and tore into the food ravenously. It wasn't cooked through, and 
parts were charred nearly to a crisp, but it didn't slow her down much.
After going through several she decided to wait and see if an unknown 
benefactor appeared, looking to share the meal. She let the fire warm her 
for a while, and looked around. The light was already turning yellow, the 
sun low in the trees and apparently heading for sunset. She debated with 
herself for some time, and finally decided perhaps it would be best to 
rest more and get a start early in the morning. She wasn't sure which way 
was back to town, and it was likely to be cold soon. She crouched by the 
smoldering fire as it burned down to coals and let the events of the past 
few days play through her mind without really trying to make sense of 
them. None of it seemed entirely real, as if the gravity of her situation 
had yet to fully sink in. Being chased by a nightmare creature, staying 
with Carrie, even the last few days at work seemed like a vision of 
someone else's life.
She looked around as twilight fell, and the darkening woods made her smile 
despite herself. It was a little bit fun, being out here alone. Even if 
she really was in trouble, at least it was exciting. It made a better 
story than dying of cancer.
As darkness gathered she withdrew into her cave and, after some 
consideration, made an effort to gather the dry leaves from the far 
corners into a pile. She curled up among them, rustling and crinkling with 
each slight twitch. They poked her and itched slightly, but it was warmer 
than sleeping on the ground. Soon enough she began to drift off, with 
thoughts of escape and adventure revolving slowly in her head until she 
finally slipped into dream. 

***
BREEP BREEP BREEP BREEP
Alarm blaring. She rolls over and slaps it, groaning in protest she sits 
up and rubs her eyes. Now in the bathroom, toothbrush in hand, eyes gritty 
like they are clogged with sand. A bleary, saggy face lined from wrinkles 
in the pillowcase stares back at her in the mirror, gaze resentful, 
blaming her for its condition. Now in the kitchen, eating yogurt and 
cereal, drinking coffee. The same breakfast as a thousand mornings gone 
by, the same as it will be a thousand mornings to come. Now in the car, 
shivering from the crispness of the morning. The sun lances through the 
trees and strikes her face, blinding her, and she looks away. Off beside 
the road, the forest calls her, serene and open. Wisps of mist curl 
between the trees, fleeing from the coming dawn, beckoning her to come 
along, abandon her thankless labors.
Dawn-blasted tree trunks and clinging fog give way to her desk. The sun 
beats in the window, glowing off a stack of paperwork and stinging her 
eyes. Form after form, the pile never seems to shrink. Permit requests, 
license applications, renewal fees, all blend together, and the glare of 
the white paper bleaches all the words into meaningless pain. The sun 
shines on her relentlessly, and she peels off her sweater, feeling warm. 
It's not enough. The air is hot, she is sweating. She stands up and her 
shirt clings to her uncomfortably as she heads for the water cooler. 
Several coworkers are already filling paper Dixie cups and drinking 
greedily. She pushes through the crowd and pulls a cup off the stack, but 
the cooler is empty now. All around her office workers push in 
desperately, thirsty, sweating, angry. Someone arrives with the spare jug, 
but it is emptied before it ever makes it to the cooler, and Alicia is so 
thirsty. Desperate now, she pushes towards the front door and throws it 
open. As she does the sun strikes her in the face and she is momentarily 
blinded, reeling from the dazzling brightness. When her vision clears all 
she sees outside is ruin, seared earth and decaying buildings, dessicated 
by the desert sun. Badlands stretch out as far as the eye can see in all 
directions. She steps back into the shade of the only crumbling corner 
that remains of her office now, and her coworkers huddle together in 
confusion, sweating and panting through cracked lips, tattered clothing 
flapping in the hot wind. If only they could find some sort of shelter, 
they could wait out the daytime and search for water in the cool, blessed 
darkness, but these shattered walls and collapsed roofs are so dry they go 
to dust at a touch, and besides the sun never sets in this hell-scape.
***

Morning came slowly, creeping in and driving the darkness back an inch at 
a time. Alicia tossed and rolled in her pile of leaves fitfully, wishing 
for some of the heat she dreamed of. She was chilled and clammy and her 
muscles refused to work properly. Finally the sun cut its way through the 
trees and the fog and stabbed into her cave, and she drew a deep breath 
and she woke enough to register the smell of wood smoke. She opened her 
eyes and crawled on aching legs to the mouth of the cave, finding the 
smoldering coals she'd left the previous evening rekindled into a small 
fire. The seared meat she'd left was gone, and she scanned the surrounding 
woods for signs of another presence, but saw nothing. She put it out of 
her mind and warmed herself as best she could by the meager flame.
Before long it began to diminish as the wood burned out, and reluctant to 
let the blessed warmth vanish she stood and began looking for fallen wood 
she could gather. Seeing something pale just across the stream, she 
stepped forward and bent at the water's edge to reach across and pick it 
up. She froze with her hand a foot from the object as she identified it as 
a bone, moist and fresh-looking with little scraps of gristle still 
clinging to it. A few flies crawled on the meaty morsels, braving the cold 
to claim a fresh and unguarded breeding ground. Another pale shape caught 
the corner of her eye and she turned her head. Her blood chilled by steps 
as she slowly realized that far from being singular, the bone was part of 
a collection, carefully laid out in a line. As she turned her head, she 
saw the circle jump the stream and curve around, apparently encircling her 
and her little cave.
Stunned and frightened, she slowly backed up and crouched in the cave 
mouth behind the dying fire, watching the empty forest suspiciously. At 
length she mustered the courage to step out again and gather a double 
handful of fallen leaves, which she carried back and fed to the fire 
slowly, enjoying the brief flares of heat. All too soon they were gone, 
and it seemed futile to gather more. Something was going on here she 
didn't understand, but it seemed that someone was at least trying to help 
her survive. Chilled both physically and spiritually, she retreated into 
the cave and curled up in the pile of leaves again, and dozed.

She woke perhaps an hour later to the smell of food and smoke and herbs. 
Sure enough, the little fire was kindled once more, and more strips of 
meat were roasting on stakes. She scrambled over, dizzy and disoriented 
from breathing in the smoldering green leaves in the fire, and tore into 
one. Again they were poorly cooked, but she paid little heed. She downed 
half the meal, and though she was hungry she left the other half for her 
unknown benefactor. Manners might be all that kept her in good standing, 
for all she knew. After eating she stood up and stretched carefully, and 
walked towards the stream, trying not to look at the bones. She knelt and 
drank from her cupped hands. Water ran down her throat and chest, making 
her shiver, but it was crisp and quenching and she didn't stop.
Thirst slaked, she straightened again, groaning at the pain in her 
overworked legs and looked around. She determined again to find something 
to stoke the fire. With some real luck she might spot a sign of 
civilization she could use to find her way out of the forest. She mastered 
her squeamishness and prepared to step over the eerie perimeter of 
remains, but was interrupted by a bone-chilling growl, tenor with a 
high-pitched whine underlining it. Her heart leaped into her throat and 
she looked around wildly. Across the stream ahead of her perhaps thirty 
yards distant was a low rise, and crouched behind its crest in the shadow 
of a wild mulberry bush she she saw a large, black shape with pointed ears 
and inky black eyes. Alicia's heart pounded in her chest and everything 
seemed to grow still and silent as she and the beast stared at each other. 
She knew instinctively that this time she would not get away, her legs 
were stiff and weak and it was hard enough for her to walk, much less run. 
She swallowed, though her mouth was dry, but the creature made no move 
closer. She slowly stepped back, and the growl cut off abruptly as if a 
button had been pushed. Slowly, careful not to make any sudden moves, she 
backed away. Seeing no reason to stay she kept backing carefully down the 
shore of the stream. Disaster did not strike, she felt like she might be 
making some sort of progress. She put another fifteen yards between the 
two of them, when suddenly the growl rose again and she thought she saw 
the shape shift tensely. Her foot came down on something cold and hard and 
damp. Instinctively she jerked her foot back and looked down. She'd 
stepped on the far side of the circle of bones. She moved away a step, 
revolted, and the growl stopped again. She looked back at its source for a 
moment, then tentatively sidled towards the cave and the fire. After a 
moment, the shadowy shape turned and vanished into the bush.
She sank to a crouch and sighed, feeling miserable. She hadn't escaped at 
all. She'd let herself be herded right where her nightmare antagonist 
wanted her, and now for some reason it wanted to keep her here. She had 
begun to believe that the creature was a delusion born of fear and 
exhaustion, perhaps it had been a wolf, she told herself. Or a kid from 
down the road playing a mean joke. But it was real. It was watching her.

Frustrated and depressed, she ate the remaining scraps of meat ringing the 
coals by her cave, partly out of hunger and partly out of some fruitless 
gesture of rudeness. It made her just a little bit better. She sat by the 
fire a little longer, but the feeling of being watched was unnerving and 
she went back into the cave and settled in her bed of leaves again. The 
cold was lessening slightly, but she still shivered from time to time.
The day passed in a haze. The air warmed enough that she no longer 
shivered by late morning, but it never grew warm enough to chase the last 
bit of chill from her bones, and she wished fervently that she had thought 
to grab a blanket from her bed before scrambling out of her window. She 
wrapped her tattered and dirty robe around herself as best she could, 
though it didn't help much, and she dozed sporadically, when sleep would 
come. Twice during the day she woke with a start with a memory of a 
distant scream ringing in her ears. Eventually she settled again. Screech 
owls weren't unknown in this area, and besides she was frightened and 
paranoid.
She woke in the evening after an extended nap to the now-familiar smell of 
heady smoke and cooking meat. This time she found a thick slab that was 
probably thigh muscle cooking on a primitive spit, just a thin branch 
ripped green from a tree and leaned diagonally against a forked stick 
stuck in the soft earth. She sat by the fire and decided this time to try 
to cook the meat a little better. She turned the spit with clumsy, numb 
fingers, and tried to wave away some of the smoke. The smell of the herbs 
smoldering in the coals made her head cloudy, made it hard to think, but 
she wasn't going to try to pick them out with her fingers, and she 
certainly wasn't going to attempt to dampen the fire, so they stayed and 
smoked.

She ate the half-cooked dinner slowly, her appetite fading before long. 
Finally she put the stake back in the ground beside the fire, leaving the 
meat to cook further, and sat watching the woods impassively. What was she 
going to do? The thought occurred to her that the ring of bones around her 
cave might somehow be keeping her tormentor at bay, but the idea seemed 
rather optimistic. Why would it warn her off just as she was about to 
leave safety? Furthermore, she still hadn't seen anything to suggest there 
was anything else living in this forest except squirrels and birds. 
Besides, it would explain how she had made it so far without being caught 
during her flight into the woods. The dark hunter was tall, and very 
strong, certainly it must run faster than her. What did it want with her? 
Why was it feeding her?
She turned and crawled into the cave, curled up in her nest of dry leaves 
and finally, out of nowhere, tears came. Silent whimpering slowly gave way 
to great racking sobs as the stress and the fear and the despair all came 
up from dark corners of her heart and filled her head with images of 
tragedy and torment. She cried herself to sleep, seriously considering for 
the first time that she might not leave this forest alive. In the 
distance, the chilling cry of a screech owl echoed through the woods, 
sounding for all the world like a distant scream.

***
So hungry, like she will never be full. Woodsmoke and the smell of burning 
herbs fills her nose and stings her eyes, and she clutches the morsel of 
food greedily. Lifting it to her mouth again she sinks her teeth into the 
juicy flesh and pulls, tearing muscle and skin from bone and bolting it 
down. The hunger has her still, but the meat tastes so good, she thinks 
she could eat forever. She picks the bone clean and gnaws at the scraps, 
still unsatisfied. She snorts and tosses the remnants into the smoking 
fire and reaches for more, pulling a juicy-looking foot off a long black 
curved stake and tears into it with unflagging fervor. She sees something 
watching her as she eats, and she glances up. Behind a plump thigh is a 
face. Clear brown eyes watch her, expression sad, accusing. She hisses and 
turns away, tearing off another delicious mouthful. To soon this one too 
is done, and she reaches for a plump, perfectly-cooked hand. Disgusted, 
she wrestles a ring off one finger and throws it away. The face watches 
her still, and when she looks up its lips are moving, speaking a silent 
plea, and she can see the smooth black shape of the strange stake impaling 
the mouth cavity and penetrating into the brain. She grimaces at it. 
"Don't look at me like that, Carrie. I'm just hungry, that's all. No one 
else would come all the way out here."
***

She woke with a start, covered in cold sweat, and moaned at the horror of 
the dream. "Oh, god..." she murmured, and stared at the lichen-splattered 
stone wall of the cave for a time. Eventually she looked out, and saw the 
small fire she had come to expect, but no meat staked out to cook. She 
didn't think she could bear to eat right now anyways. She struggled to a 
standing crouch and stumbled her way out of the cave, then made her way 
down to the stream and splashed cold water on her face, trying to banish 
the lingering images of her dream. Her stomach gurgled quietly, and she 
closed her eyes and silently told it to shut up. Realizing she was thirsty 
she knelt and drank, then hurried shivering back to the fire. The sky was 
overcast today, and she hoped with more conviction than she had ever felt 
in church that it was not going to rain. Just in case it was, she put her 
back to the cave so she could quickly dive for shelter if the clouds 
burst. She sat and stared blankly, going over in her head the list of all 
the things she was going to do if she got back to civilization. Take a 
shower. Get a boyfriend. Go bowling. Ask for a raise... The list was 
silly, she knew. It was just something to think about, but she wasn't sure 
she really believed she'd ever get a chance to do any of those things. 
Besides, it was all stupid anyways. Bowling would be as boring as it 
always was, life-threatening ordeal or no.

Eventually she became aware of a presence. She looked up, and there it 
was. The dark hunter. It seemed a fitting name, and that's what she called 
it now. It sat on its heels between two small birches, fingers buried in 
the leaves, maybe fifty yards away in the forest. Her pulse fluttered and 
raced, but the fear didn't master her now as it had before. She stared 
back in silence, and seconds ticked off uncounted. Eventually, her 
frustration outweighed the fear and she screamed. "What do you want from 
me!?"
The creature neither moved nor made a sound. "What are you?" she cried, 
hating how desperate and strained her voice sounded. Still, no response. 
Silence fell again. She stifled a sudden sob of frustration, and her anger 
evaporated, leaving her with only despair.
She couldn't stand the creature's gaze any longer, so she retreated into 
the darkness of the cave and curled up again, turning her back to the fire 
and the monster beyond it.
She covered her ears with her hands and shut her eyes, and eventually her 
mind slipped into the uncharted space between sleeping and waking. Time 
passed, broken only by the occasional rumble of her stomach as her hunger 
slowly grew, and once the distant owl's cry.
Morning slipped away, and some time in midday the smell of burning herbs 
again filled the cave. Consciousness resurfacing, and stirred and observed 
that the fire had once again been rekindled and something was roasting 
over it. She sniffed disdainfully, prepared to refuse the food on 
principle. After a moment she considered the smell of the herbs, how they 
accompanied the fire, but not always the food. Suspicious, she decided to 
escape the cloying smell, it fogged her mind and made it hard to focus, 
hard to recall anything except her immediate reality. She clambered out of 
the cave and went to sit by the stream, back still turned to the woods, 
not wishing to spot the creature watching her again.

The soil by the stream was damp, and cold. It didn't seem to have rained, 
but the cloud cover kept the sun from warming the open ground. Her hunger 
was growing powerful, and the meat slowly cooking over the fire was 
starting to look very tempting. Eventually she relented, and moved closer 
to the fire. Her meal today was a large rack of ribs, cracked and torn 
raggedly off whatever poor beast had provided it. Apparently the dark 
hunter didn't have a bone saw. Alicia giggled halfheartedly at the 
thought, and poked at the meat. It was looking almost fully cooked, and 
smelled good. Her hunger got the best of her and she plucked the skewer 
from its crooked rest against the notched branch, and waited for the meat 
to cool before sinking her teeth in with enthusiasm. She bit here and 
there, choosing the tenderest and juiciest-looking morsels.
Her persistent melancholy gave way to a simple and powerful satisfaction 
that tonight at least she would not go to sleep hungry. This simple 
pleasure seemed of fundamental worth and filled her with an unjustifiable 
contentment, but she didn't argue the reason of it. She ate leisurely, 
hardly even bothered when she bit down on a chunk of rib that came away in 
her teeth, until she pulled the meat off it with her teeth and looked down 
to find something not at all bone-like. It was metallic, round and flat 
with smooth edges, about the size of a silver dollar. One edge featured a 
segment of clear molded plastic, and as she looked closer, she realized 
with growing apprehension that the metallic casing bore blue printed 
lettering.

"Medtronic"
"Revo MRI(tm) Pacing System"
"Engineered with SureScan technology"

Her good mood collapsed, as it had seemed to without fail this past week, 
under a growing sense of horror. It was medical equipment. She tried to 
think of something else, put the thought out of her mind, but it came 
unbidden. The device was a pacemaker. She had seen the one they'd put in 
her uncle during the presurgery consultation. Her blood ran cold, and the 
juicy ribs slipped from numb fingers. Her lips peeled back in an ugly 
grimace as she stumbled back, eyes fixed on the meat, face a mask of 
revulsion. A high keening cry spilled forth from her, then broke into a 
sobbing howl of torment and denial as her mind went racing through the 
implications. Dogs were given pacemakers, too. But it would be an enormous 
dog to have ribs like that. And it was too tender for dog meat. She'd 
eaten dog, visiting relatives in Oaxaca, it was tough and oily. And that 
screech owl she kept hearing...
Scenes from last night's dream flooded into her mind unbidden, and she 
turned away and collapsed to the ground, retching uncontrollably, tears 
streaming from her eyes. She purged until she felt hollow and wrung out, 
then finally lay down in the leaves and sobbed softly. At length she 
gathered her wits and slowly sat up, crossed herself, and began to stumble 
her way through a prayer she remembered from childhood, hoping the gesture 
would provide her with a measure of comfort. Behind her she heard a raspy, 
grating chuckle, close enough that it made the back of her neck itch with 
the feeling of immediate danger, but weary indifference kept her from 
panicking this time. If the dark hunter wanted to hurt her, there was 
little she could do to stop it. So she continued with her prayer, 
struggling to remember words, filling in where she had to with what seemed 
most appropriate.
Behind her, she heard a heavy thud like a shovel in wet sand. Momentarily 
distracted she turned to see a stick topped with a freshly-denuded skull 
that grinned cruelly at her. She turned away again. It was only another 
burden, it seemed insignificant now before the weight of this damnation 
she felt.

After that afternoon it was as if something had slipped loose in her head. 
Hours oozed by in a sluggish smear. She felt as if her ideas of the way 
the world was were melting and being washed away in the stream, leaving 
behind a place where life and death each implied the other, and pain was 
the only language that could be shared. Daylight came and went but the 
cold was constant, as was the cloying smell of her keeper's herbs. Hunger 
slowly grew in her but she could not bear the thought of food, not after 
what she had done. She would starve now, in this cold cave, and in so 
doing she would do penance for her sin. It was the only thing left that 
made sense.
She existed now in a self-imposed exile in the darkness of the cave, 
feeling indecent even to feel the warmth of the sun. As the hours 
stretched into days, the horror she felt slowly devoured her thoughts, and 
eventually silence reigned inside her mind. She became subliminally aware 
of the rhythms of the forest. She felt, more than saw, a dark shadow come 
to the mouth of her cave and leave a leather-lined hollow of bark filled 
to the brim with water. She railed against her thirst, but thirst won. The 
water was dirty, and smelled faintly of animal, but she drank. More days 
passed and more water came, but the hunger only grew.
She slept only after days awake, knowing the burning herbs would bring her 
nightmares, but what she saw when she finally succumbed was beyond her 
mind's ability to comprehend, a message spoken in the language of 
sightless things that crawl under the earth.
She awoke with a terrible foreboding, certain she had been shown an 
apocalyptic truth that she could not remember. Feeling a presence she 
rolled over and saw the monstrous and emaciated form of her keeper 
crouched in the doorway, silhouetted against the dying light of the last 
fragments of sundown. Fear registered to her mind but rolled off her, her 
being already saturated with despair and final certainty. The monster's 
presence seemed proper, and she thought maybe her dream had told of this.
It took a long breath, and moved towards her. Her half-drowned instincts 
gave a feeble kick and she sat up slowly and scooted away from the 
creature, but there was nowhere to go.
It closed on her, sniffing the air. Now within reach of its long arms, it 
reached out and pulled away the filthy and tattered remnants of her gown, 
baring her now-gaunt frame. She stayed frozen, quiet, as the murky pits of 
its eyes beheld her bare and beleaguered form. It lifted her thigh and 
exposed the soft, curly hair at her center, black like the beast's short 
fur. Its fingers caressed her firm breast, gentleness belied by the scrape 
of thick claws. Her captor leaned close and sniffed her lips, her ear, her 
tender neck where her pulse fluttered like a bird in a trap, then it ran 
its tongue across her throat and slowly up her cheek. Its breath smelled 
like blood and rotten wood.
Alicia squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and swallowed. Silence for a 
moment, then she felt hot breath on her ear, and heard a slow breath being 
drawn. "I can feel you stirring inside. I've searched so long, but it was 
worth every day and every mistake. Now is the time."
The creature laid a hand on her cheek, and after a moment she realized it 
was waiting for something. She opened her eyes, and found herself staring 
into the face of the beast. Even from inches away, she couldn't make out a 
hint of eyes in its face, only two inky black pits that emitted no light. 
Its other hand was raised, and she watched with helpless apprehension as 
it lowered those claws, down, to her bare belly. She felt them come to 
rest across her navel. Her breath caught in her throat as they slowly 
pushed deeper. Pain blossomed in her stomach as they pierced her skin and 
dug in. With a deliberate twitch the beast split a twelve inch tear in her 
gut, deep enough to expose her entrails. She watched in a distant and 
dreamlike panic, and absurdly the single thought she was able to form was 
that she thought her guts would be red and shiny, not black and matted.

Instinctively she clasped her hands over her abdomen, but everything 
seemed far away now, as if she were watching a grainy movie of reality. 
She sat in shock listening to the blood rush in her ears and seeing that 
momentary glimpse of her own insides. Something about it seemed strange. 
Wrong. At length she marshaled the will to look down again. There was 
blood on her hands, but none trickled from the wound. A realization dawned 
slowly, like a bubble of air rising through honey, that there was no pain.
With a mixture of caution and curiosity she relaxed one finger at a time. 
No pain came. No blood. Finally she could see. It wasn't enough, she 
didn't understand, so she spread the rent in her flesh wider. She took a 
deep breath, and it felt good. Carefully she touched the glistening black 
mess, then slid her finger lower, under soft flesh. It felt like she could 
breathe for the first time in her life. The edges of the wound itched, and 
she prodded at them, then slid her fingers into the bloody flesh and gave 
an experimental tug. Suddenly she felt cramped, constricted, and she 
pulled at the slippery flesh again. It wouldn't give under her merely 
human strength, her fingers kept slipping. With a frustrated grunt she 
clawed at her stomach, but to no avail. Lifting her hand to her mouth she 
bit down between thumb and forefinger and pulled until the skin came 
loose. She bit again, and again, and soon she had peeled the flesh away 
from her first two fingers. She flexed her spidery digits and marveled at 
the sharpness of her claws. She could hardly breathe now, and her 
movements became frantic as she dug her bared thumb into the tender 
undersides of her other arm, parting too-tight flesh to reveal 
blood-matted black fur beneath. She freed her arms first, then peeled away 
the constricting chest, pulled the legs off one by one like thick, rubbery 
stockings, then finally slid her claws under her chin and tore the bare 
skin away from her face.
She knelt, panting and gasping for air, crouched in the tiny cave. All 
around her lay discarded shreds of husking, fragments of her delicate 
shell. She looked out into the gathering night with longing, but instinct 
told her she was not finished. She had to show that she was fully born, 
that there was nothing left of the myopic whelp she had emerged from, if 
she were to be worthy of what she most desired. With a sigh she looked 
down again, and wondered how she had ever fit inside that tiny skin. It 
was sweet, soft, and foul in her mouth like a French pate made with 
spoiled fruit, but she ate every scrap she could find, until nothing but 
blood and dirt remained.
Soon, it was done, and she emerged at last from the site of her trial. Her 
senses were finally clear, clearer than they had ever been, as if she had 
pulled a cowl off of her mind as well as her body. All around, the night 
whispered secrets to her, and she could smell the giddy anticipation of 
the one who had found her and cared for her and wiped her mind clean of 
thought just so she could witness the cool simplicity of the world. He had 
been waiting for her for a long time, but he would not have to wait any 
longer. She was born. She drew a deep breath, and howled for her mate.
<1st attachment end>


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