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movement was betrayed only by the overabundance of its
silence.
My speed bested the creature’s next swipe as I plunged
into my own gathering of supplicant shadows. A split-second
after my deep dive, my sisters blazed a wet and glittering
path across a monstrous appendage, the fluids that followed
as foreign as the creature itself. It wailed with such intensity,
the stones of the ceiling awoke from their abiding sleep and
rained down around me.
A world of teeth snapped shut inches from my face.
Before the creature could raise its head beyond my reach,
I sprang at its face, my sisters full of glee. The creature’s
flesh was an inconsistent tangle of competing textures, as
if it were stitched together from dozens of different species.
Its eyes were traditional enough, however, thankfully
resting in relatively customary places. My sisters liberated
them from their sockets. The weight of the giant orbs and
the accompanying optic fluids sent me to the ground with a
squishy thud.
It wasn’t until it bellowed at me that I realized I was
locked in mortal combat with a thinking, feeling creature.
“Wretched little thing! I’ll spin the flesh of your soul into a
hatchery for flies! Their tiny white children will gnaw at you
until your spirit has nourished a swarm to rival the sky!”
I saw no harm in engaging the creature in conversation.
“As I have no intention of being sewn into a worm garden,
perhaps I should introduce you to another member of my
family. His bite may rival your own, creature.” My father
roared every bit as loudly as the nightmare, tracing an arc
of fire and rage through the darkness so bright, it sent the
shadows fleeing. The monstrosity’s head burst in a spray of
gore and bone, yet it didn’t seem fazed. Unlike its eyes, its
brain must have been more uniquely situated.
Surprisingly, without benefit of a head, the monster
took its turn within our burgeoning dialogue. “You have a
lovely little family, my plucky friend. I only wish I could
204 | Mark Anzalone