Molly woke up late, or more accurately she thought it was late, because sun was drifting in through the open windows, and open door. She watched dust motes spin in the light for a moment, and then realized there was a strange weight on her bed. Looking down, she saw the nude flute player laying across her abdomen. Scrambling, she moved away from him, and felt her hand fall on flesh. Jerking back, she realized with a blush that she had just touched a nipple. There was someone standing in the doorway, looking at her, waiting patiently for her to untangle her limbs from theirs.
It seemed unnatural to her to have so many bodies so tangled and to know that nothing lascivious had led up to it. In contrast to the sexual perspective she had had yesterday upon arrival, today’s puppy pile seemed innocent. Or was she becoming warped? She didn’t want to think too much about it. Twisting her ankle at an uncomfortable angle she was able to pull free of flute boy.
The figure moved back from the door and out into the sunlight, she heard someone else shift on the bed, and wondered if everyone here always slept until midday. She didn’t look back to see if someone else was waking up. She walked to the edge of the cottage door, and then stopped. Did she really want to go out?
The answer came to her as a resounding “no.” She didn’t know one naked man from the next, she hadn’t seen them often enough to recognize friend from foe. But she did know that as long as she had been here the rules of nature hadn’t changed, sure, the obligation to civil behavior seemed less concrete, but night time wasn’t a death sentence in her world, and surely not here. The screams came back to her sending another shiver down her spine.
“Molly?” Flute boy asked sleepily rubbing his eyes.
Molly looked over at him, he looked delicious, like every Calvin Klein model formed into the epitome of perfection. She had noticed it before, but not really wondered at it. He blinked at her blearily.
“Did you open the windows?” he asked confused.
“No,” Molly responded in a loud whisper.
He looked around, and seemed to be taking attendance. She wondered why someone hadn’t done that before last night. He nodded to himself, “Ben.”
“Is it safe outside?” Molly asked, moving closer so she didn’t have to raise her voice.
“It’s light,” he said and smiled as if that settled things.
Molly shook her head, and held out a hand to help pull him up. As soon as she realized she had touched this naked man, even innocently, she withdrew her hand. He faltered a moment, and then smiled at her. He had good balance she noticed, he lifted his flute from under a girl’s thigh, and led the way outside. Molly concluded that if he didn’t scream after crossing the threshold that it was most likely safe. She stepped out as well.
It took a moment to adjust to the bright light, but when she did, Molly saw that three or four people had gathered by the corner of the cottage. One of the people was the woman that had been crying the night before. She walked over, and gagged unwillingly.
On the ground was the body of a man. His spleen was resting outside of his skin, and his mouth was frozen open, his eyes wide with horror. No one she noticed had touched him, not even to offer his eyes the solitude that closing them gave most corpses. It was grotesque. She heaved, moving so that it would not land on the body. She had heard him screaming. Seen more than one person move to help him. She had heard him dying. The smell hit her, death, it surrounded her, over the scent of daisies and perfume she had enjoyed the day before. Death, and the smell was compounded by the smell of her own vomit and the forlorn sense of defeat in the community.
Molly took a deep breath and caught more death in her lungs. She had to move away around the side of the building. Her stomach gave up all that she had left. She fell to her knees crying, sobbing, and heaving until she had nothing left. Her stomach hurt, her head hurt, and somewhere between the two her heart hurt. The woman walked over to her, the one she had so ineffectively comforted last night and put a hand on her shoulder.
“The Darkness took him,” she whispered, sweeping Molly’s hair back out of the line of fire. The woman was moving mechanically, and Molly thought she might be in shock.
Molly shook her head as if she could deny what she was beginning to believe was true. She hadn’t been afraid of the dark since she was a child. Had this strange world somehow taken in the darkness that seemed to belong in children’s nightmares? She shook her head. That was ridiculous, this was the same world, just a different culture, or time, or something.
Standing, Molly looked back over her shoulder. The man from last night that had seemed cruel and calculating walked over.
“We’ll send someone to notify him,” the man reassured the woman. She nodded briefly, but Molly didn’t think she had absorbed the words.
The woman squeezed her hand, and Molly stood, turning away from the soiled grass. There was a line of blood that ran around the house. The thing had dragged his body. Molly bent from her waist again, and took another deep breath, this time smelling less death, and more puke and florals.
Everyone gathered together outside around the body, as if now they could pay tribute to the man no one had moved to protect the night before. She hated them all suddenly. Hated that they had let this happen. Hated that she hadn’t fought to get to the door as the woman had. These people would willingly let one of their own suffer and die?
She turned her back, and began to walk up the hill toward the path…
It seemed unnatural to her to have so many bodies so tangled and to know that nothing lascivious had led up to it. In contrast to the sexual perspective she had had yesterday upon arrival, today’s puppy pile seemed innocent. Or was she becoming warped? She didn’t want to think too much about it. Twisting her ankle at an uncomfortable angle she was able to pull free of flute boy.
The figure moved back from the door and out into the sunlight, she heard someone else shift on the bed, and wondered if everyone here always slept until midday. She didn’t look back to see if someone else was waking up. She walked to the edge of the cottage door, and then stopped. Did she really want to go out?
The answer came to her as a resounding “no.” She didn’t know one naked man from the next, she hadn’t seen them often enough to recognize friend from foe. But she did know that as long as she had been here the rules of nature hadn’t changed, sure, the obligation to civil behavior seemed less concrete, but night time wasn’t a death sentence in her world, and surely not here. The screams came back to her sending another shiver down her spine.
“Molly?” Flute boy asked sleepily rubbing his eyes.
Molly looked over at him, he looked delicious, like every Calvin Klein model formed into the epitome of perfection. She had noticed it before, but not really wondered at it. He blinked at her blearily.
“Did you open the windows?” he asked confused.
“No,” Molly responded in a loud whisper.
He looked around, and seemed to be taking attendance. She wondered why someone hadn’t done that before last night. He nodded to himself, “Ben.”
“Is it safe outside?” Molly asked, moving closer so she didn’t have to raise her voice.
“It’s light,” he said and smiled as if that settled things.
Molly shook her head, and held out a hand to help pull him up. As soon as she realized she had touched this naked man, even innocently, she withdrew her hand. He faltered a moment, and then smiled at her. He had good balance she noticed, he lifted his flute from under a girl’s thigh, and led the way outside. Molly concluded that if he didn’t scream after crossing the threshold that it was most likely safe. She stepped out as well.
It took a moment to adjust to the bright light, but when she did, Molly saw that three or four people had gathered by the corner of the cottage. One of the people was the woman that had been crying the night before. She walked over, and gagged unwillingly.
On the ground was the body of a man. His spleen was resting outside of his skin, and his mouth was frozen open, his eyes wide with horror. No one she noticed had touched him, not even to offer his eyes the solitude that closing them gave most corpses. It was grotesque. She heaved, moving so that it would not land on the body. She had heard him screaming. Seen more than one person move to help him. She had heard him dying. The smell hit her, death, it surrounded her, over the scent of daisies and perfume she had enjoyed the day before. Death, and the smell was compounded by the smell of her own vomit and the forlorn sense of defeat in the community.
Molly took a deep breath and caught more death in her lungs. She had to move away around the side of the building. Her stomach gave up all that she had left. She fell to her knees crying, sobbing, and heaving until she had nothing left. Her stomach hurt, her head hurt, and somewhere between the two her heart hurt. The woman walked over to her, the one she had so ineffectively comforted last night and put a hand on her shoulder.
“The Darkness took him,” she whispered, sweeping Molly’s hair back out of the line of fire. The woman was moving mechanically, and Molly thought she might be in shock.
Molly shook her head as if she could deny what she was beginning to believe was true. She hadn’t been afraid of the dark since she was a child. Had this strange world somehow taken in the darkness that seemed to belong in children’s nightmares? She shook her head. That was ridiculous, this was the same world, just a different culture, or time, or something.
Standing, Molly looked back over her shoulder. The man from last night that had seemed cruel and calculating walked over.
“We’ll send someone to notify him,” the man reassured the woman. She nodded briefly, but Molly didn’t think she had absorbed the words.
The woman squeezed her hand, and Molly stood, turning away from the soiled grass. There was a line of blood that ran around the house. The thing had dragged his body. Molly bent from her waist again, and took another deep breath, this time smelling less death, and more puke and florals.
Everyone gathered together outside around the body, as if now they could pay tribute to the man no one had moved to protect the night before. She hated them all suddenly. Hated that they had let this happen. Hated that she hadn’t fought to get to the door as the woman had. These people would willingly let one of their own suffer and die?
She turned her back, and began to walk up the hill toward the path…
Choose:
- ID: 38468
- Nickname: stay death
- Hits: 138
