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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
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