Wednesday, 9 May 2012
03:34:48 PM (GMT)
The light from the hallway spilled across a women sitting motionless in a rocking
chair. She carried a small, squirming bundle in her arms. It was feeding. "Hello?"
Reggie's voice sounded thin, like old parchment. The women did not answer, but at the
sound of Reggie's voice, the infant at her breast stopped sucking. Her heart pounded
as she fumbled for the light switch and turned it on. The mother had been dead for
hours, her eyes still open, her tongue hanging out, purple and swollen. But her child
had continued to feed, tiny hands scratching at grey, sagging flesh. The baby did not
feast on its mothers milk, but on her blood and flesh. With tiny, needlelike fangs,
it had bored an apple-sized hole through her chest, and a stream of deep red dripped
down the soft rolls of the creatures chin. The mother's abdomen was ripped open, as
if the ravenous offspring had eaten its way out of her. What remained of her
entrails spilled over her lap and down onto the floor.