_Anthology - Monsters

by _Anthology

  She touched herself softly, allowing her hand to wander over her body as if it were unfamiliar. With one hand she cupped her straining breast and with the other she rolled the sensitive flesh of her clitoris between her first two fingers, letting her other fingers part the swollen flesh of her labia minora to creep into the slick heat there. Gina was reminded of the whispered, ‘Come to me’.

  She sighed. "No, come to Me. Belong to Me." The salty drip on her skin became reality. The strange creature leaned over her, the freezing blue lips settling on her breast. Gina arched into the sensation, her breath coming in short gasps. The webbed-fingers adhered strictly to her fantasy and plunged within her, expertly traveling the aching passage while the thumb traced tantalizing circles over her engorged nub. In her heightened state of arousal, Gina only took moments to climax against the working fingers. She shuddered violently as the pleasure washed over her.

  The woman was not content with that, she had to taste Gina. "I will have your salt." Then her serpentine tongue shot out to lave the honey that flowed in her thighs. The woman gorged herself on the salty-sweet taste that poured around her tongue. Gina's shudders continued in growing intensity until she grit her teeth and dug her nails into the softness of her own palms, screaming her second orgasm with an unholy guttural sound.

  Gina had to push her off, unable to stand the ferocity of the sensation.

  "I have come to you. Will you now come with me?" The being asked her, the endless abyss of her eyes searching Gina's for an answer.

  "I will die." Gina was matter-of-fact.

  A laugh escaped her. "Ageanna, my love. You do not know?"

  Gina's answer was an uncomprehending stare.

  "Didn't you read your father's words?"

  "The book was taken from my room." Gina ventured. "Did you never wonder why your father called his empire Atlantis? It is all very trite. Your mother saved him from drowning and she fell in love with him. She gave him her body and the wealth of the sea to spawn his dynasty. He betrayed her by taking a human woman to wife. Your mother punished him by sending you to change places with his son. Your father wanted you to know the truth of what you are before you choose. Come see."

  Gina allowed the woman to pull her over the railing and fell into the deep darkness of the waiting ocean. Then, Gina felt nothing but the call of the Deep and the momentary pain as the newly emerging gills behind her ears split through the skin with the sharpness of a blade. They found each other's mouths again; sharing breath and salt.

  A search was made for Gina when she did not return for the reading of the will. They searched the ship from stem to stern, but they feared the worst. Perhaps her father's words had driven her to suicide, was the smug comment garnered from Heather. But a short time later, she was given a reason to fear. It was when Gina returned, rising up from the dark, tumultuous waves to scale the side of the ship. Her eyes focused on Heather alone. But Heather could not see herself in her cousin's gaze, only the eternal blackness of the Deep that awaited her.

  Stages of Waking

  by KT Zheng

  Cole came back to himself, shivering.

  Every muscle in his body felt stretched and aching. His mouth tasted awful, the lingering memory of vomit and blood still clinging to his tongue. A hand was in his hair, making slow, comforting caresses. There was cotton under his cheek, warmed by the body beneath it. Calm, even breaths lifted and lowered his head, the relaxing thump of a heartbeat steady under his ear. The sound soothed him, coaxed him to surrender himself back into sleep.

  Nearly under the spell of dreaming again, something stirred beneath his skin, sending it prickling into gooseflesh. He sat up abruptly and turned, trying to cover his mouth, but he was not quick enough -- he vomited on the socks and shoes strewn about the floor beside his bed.

  Strong hands pulled him back and wiped his lips with a soft tissue. "Bathroom," a familiar voice murmured into his ear, steady hands guiding him forward.

  As he passed the mirror, he got a glimpse of his face, pale and sunken and awful.

  ***

  "How are you feeling?" Cole looked up in surprise as he emerged from the bathroom, toweling off his hair. His roommate Albert was just stepping out of the kitchen, a pan of bacon still sizzling in his hands. The smell made Cole's stomach growl with unusual demand. "Fine," he said, casually. Plenty of toothpaste and mouthwash covered up the taste of being ill well enough. "Just the usual, I guess."

  Albert frowned, a severe expression on an already severe face. "I guess," he said, retreating into the breakfast nook without looking back.

  "Don't forget, housewarming party tonight!" Cole shouted after him.

  There was a long pause and then Albert's voice drifted from down the hall. "I already told you, I'm teaching." Cole shrugged and threw his damp towel over a chair, turning on his stereo as he entered his bedroom. Figuring he owed Albert a little this morning, he put in Ministry of Sound and turned up the volume. Techno was the only type of music they shared an interest in. He tore yesterday's red-circled page off his Dilbert daily calendar and tossed it in the trash.

  Stepping to the beat with a grin, he shimmied over to the walk-in closet. It was strange, but he always felt more alive, more vibrant after one of his spells, especially when he woke up feeling as awful as he had this morning. Everything looked brighter, tasted sharper, smelled more interesting and exciting. It was the perfect mood to be in for the party tonight. He mentally checked off errands he'd have to do before the evening while he pawed through outfitting options.

  A soft knock interrupted him.

  "Yeah?" He reached into a drawer and quickly stepped into a pair of silk boxers. The door opened just a crack. "Is it safe?"

  "Yup."

  Albert stepped into the room, the scent of bacon following him in from the hallway. Cole's stomach growled again and he laughed. "What's up?"

  "Hey. Uh, I know it's none of my business, but," Albert fiddled with the thin book he carried in one hand. "I don't think you should have the party tonight." "What! Are you kidding? I've only been planning this since before we moved in!" He blinked, seeing his roommate's face and realizing he was serious. "No way man. It's totally impossible. People would explode! I had to do some real persuading to get some of them to come."

  Albert watched him from behind wire-rimmed glasses, looking as if he couldn't decide between annoyance and concern. "You were pretty sick last night." "I'm always sick around this time of the month." Cole leered. "Regular as some chick on the pill. Anyway, it's done now. I'm okay." Albert looked unconvinced. Cole put on a big smile, trying to reassure him. "Dude, I feel good! I feel better than good!"

  "I just... I think you should wait. Even just a couple of days."

  Cole arched an eyebrow. "Why are you being so weird, man?" He finally settled on a long-sleeved navy polo, pulling it off its hanger and shrugging it on. "You know it's no big deal."

  Albert shifted his weight, but he held Cole's eyes. "I'm just worried." "Chill, dude. Don't worry about me. You don't have to be my mum, you know." "I might as well have been," Albert muttered. "She wasn't the one who was always around when you were -you know, having a fit." His lips pressed into a thin line. It was an old anger, a sense of disapproval Albert had picked up from his own mother. She had once been a close friend of Cole's parents until one nasty argument even Cole had overheard, playing with Albert in his bedroom all the way in the south wing.

  Cole turned and gave Albert a dazzling smile, his lady-killer smile. He slung an arm over Albert's shoulders. "All the more reason, best friend o' mine, for you to come to the party, right?" "Knowing me since we were four doesn't make us best friends." Albert pushed him away, frowning. "I still think it's dangerous." He paused, struggling with something. "You know how you are when you get all worked up right after -- "

  "That was when I was a kid." Cole scowled. "I can control it now. I mean, not really control but predict, you know. It's on a schedule, I mean." "This isn't some funny thing that just happens on
ce in a while, Cole." Albert sounded strange. There was something else, Cole was sure, something he wasn't letting on. "You could really get hurt, especially if you were by yourself. I'm not always going to be here when it happens, you know."

  Cole narrowed his eyes, catching Albert's arm. "Hey. Why wouldn't you be?"

  Albert's sudden lack of expression was enough to make the hairs on the back of Cole's neck rise. He wondered if he'd pushed too hard this time; but his friend relented, shaking his head. "Never mind. Nothing." "Don't scare me like that, geez!" Cole punched his friend lightly on the shoulder, trying to laugh off his momentary panic. "Why would you ever abandon little ole me?" He made a mock cutesy-face at Albert. "You know..." Albert paused. His thick, dark eyebrows drew together and his mouth took on a crooked frown "There are some people I know, people you could talk to about-"

  Cole waved him off with a smile and the sort of careless laugh he knew infuriated Albert at times like this. He hated being treated like an invalid, especially by Albert who should know better, who'd seen him in plenty worse situations. "No, dude, I'm totally fine this morning, ready to party! I don't need help from some, whatever, quacks."

  Albert's dark skin flushed and his lips tightened. "Your call," he said in clipped tones. "I've got to grade some papers. Tell Lindsay I said hi." Cole watched him stalk off and winced slightly at the sound of his bedroom door slamming. Something ached dully behind his eyes and for a moment he remembered that horrible skin-crawling feeling from his dream, but he shook his head and it was gone.

  *** By nine-thirty the apartment was packed, buzzing with the pleasant white noise of twenty-odd conversations happening at once, wine and gossip flowing freely. This was Cole's native environment, the one he felt most comfortable in, mingling and smiling, moving through and in and out and between conversations. He accepted the "lovely new place, Cole,"s and the "charming, much better than your father's stuffy old estate"s with the same plastic smiles he was given. This was pleasant, arm's length, attractive.

  As he greeted a few latecomers he looked up to see Albert hovering at the edge of the crowd, dressed in a rumpled pair of navy pinstripe pants and a half-tucked in dress shirt. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. Surprised, Cole waved to him, moving through the crowd to his side and grinning. He'd noticed earlier that Albert had left his door closed, but assumed it was to keep wandering partygoers from using his room to mess around. "Thought you had class?"

  His smile faded abruptly as Albert turned to look at him. His friend's face was tight, angry; his pupils seemed constricted to small black points in the hazel rings of his irises. Cole wondered if he was sick -- or if someone had slipped him some favors.

  "Cole," Albert said, almost hissing, "We have to talk." Cole looked around, tried to laugh. "Everyone's here. Can't it wait?"

  "No." Albert's nostrils flared and his mouth tightened further.

  "It's not about the floors, is it? I promised I'll get them cleaned and I mean it-"

  "I don't care about the floors!"

  Cole recoiled. He'd never heard such a tone from Albert, his meek little childhood playmate. "Fuck, cool down!"

  "Now, Cole." Albert scanned the room. Cole tried to follow his line of sight when a cloud of light citrus perfume surrounded him, followed almost immediately by arms encircling his waist. "Cole, Ahbay," a voice purred. Cole grinned and turned. Lindsay always used Albert's Indian name -- Ahbay -which had endeared her to him permanently. He'd once told Cole that she was the only person who bothered to even ask for his "real" name.

  "Lindsay!" He glanced over at Albert and was surprised to see his roommate still glowering.

  "Hello, Lindsay." Albert nodded, face stiff. "Cole -- look, it won't take a minute-"

  Cole leaned over and whispered in Lindsay's ear. "Ask me to dance?" He ignored the growing irritation on Albert's face.

  Lindsay laughed and obligingly hooked her arm through his, pulling him toward what was usually the living room. "How can you boys stand still when they're playing 'Dancing Queen'?"

  Cole gave Albert a little wave. "How can we? Come on, dance!" he called back, knowing full well that Albert would never do so. He smiled, triumphant, as his roommate disappeared back into his room. He wrinkled his nose, feeling bratty. "Christ, I have no idea what he's so fucking cranky about," he shouted to Lindsay as they cut through the crowd of moving bodies. Lindsay arched an eyebrow and pulled Cole close. Her hair smelled good, strawberry conditioner overlaying an almost woodsy scent. "Don't be mean," she tsked, her mouth warm against his ear. "After all, he agreed to live with you, Mr. Kipling the Third. You know perfectly well he can afford a decent place on his own now that he's teaching."

  Cole groaned. "Don't side with him, please!"

  "If you ask me-" "Don't say it!"

  "-he's still got a bit of a crush on you. Same one he's had since junior high and you kissed him on that dare."

  Cole frowned. "I told you not to say it."

  "You can't shut me up," Lindsay said brightly. "I'm not one of your adoring trophy-wife-wannabes. Besides, I just rescued your ass back there. You owe me!"

  "He doesn't have a crush on me! I don't think Albert even likes other people. I don't think he even jerks off-" Lindsay wrinkled her nose. "Ew! Cole!"

  "I mean it! Maybe I should fuck him so he'd be less uptight."

  "You are such an ass," Lindsay said, but she was laughing.

  He picked her up and dipped her, ignoring the annoyed comments from other dancers jostled by the sudden move. Lindsay squealed and swatted him until he put her back down onto her feet. She smoothed out her tiny red top and poked him lightly in the arm. "Alright, you. I'm going to get a drink and find out where-" She stopped abruptly, her face brightening as she waved in the direction of the door. Cole's eyebrows raised and he turned to see who was waving back.

  He had time to register auburn hair falling into a square face, a lopsided grin, friendly eyes, Lindsay's happy shout, and then he was smothered, overwhelmed by a musk as powerful as the smell of sex, at once heady and inviting and challenging.

  The beginning of a spell slammed into him, black stars dancing in front of his eyes. He grabbed for Lindsay's arm but his fingers skidded over her smooth skin and caught in her bracelet. It snapped apart under his hand, the rap of the beads striking and scattering over the floor too sharp in his ears. People parted before him, startled as he tripped and stumbled for the bathroom.

  He could just hear Lindsay yelling through the deafening rush of blood in his ears, her voice following after him. "Cole! Cole! Are you all right? Cole!"

  He made it to the bathroom just as she caught up with him; as he slammed the door, he caught a glimpse of her face through the narrowing gap, gone white and tense. Cole slumped against the bathroom door, gasping and clutching at his chest. A sharp pain shot through his ribs with each breath. The door rattled against his back as Lindsay pounded on it, shouting something, but he couldn't process what she was saying at all. He could smell her though, even through the heavy oak -- the sickening sweetness of her perfume overpowering the salty-rich female musk of her skin.

  "I'm just sick!" he tried to tell her, but the words stuck in his throat, came out in awkward barks that sounded barely human. His lips felt tight and stretched, like they couldn't fit over his teeth properly. A grinding ache spread along his jaw.

  He prayed for the usual blackness that came with the spells, but it didn't come this time.

  It's not supposed to be today, he thought. Last night -- last night was the half moon. His body crumpled underneath him, stabbing pains shooting through his joints, wrenching through his muscles, along his bones. His legs felt twisted and strange under him, pants falling off his waist and tangling around his ankles until he clawed them off. He slid down the door to the floor, gasping; the collar of his shirt was choking him, so he tore that away too, not caring about the shredded fabric. His hands began to burn, and he watched in horror as his fingers curled into short, white-furred paws. Looking up, he
recoiled when in the floor-length mirror on the far wall he saw only a beast staring back at him. His face pushed outward with a wet, sick crunch, the agony of it blinding and distracting him from everything else.

  He moaned, slumping to brace his arms -- paws -- against the floor. Was it always like this? What was he? Why hadn't Albert said anything about him being a fucking monster? "Albert -- help!" The words were less words than incoherent whining, inhuman noises like an injured dog would make. He shuddered as the pain subsided, his skin still slithering over him like a live thing. In the mirror, blue eyes were the only familiar thing left of himself in the reflection of the wolf.

  Behind him, the pounding on the door stopped. Muffled voices consulted, clearer to his ears than they should have been; but even sharper were the scents. Spice and sweat blended with the overpowering sweet of Lindsay's perfume, smoothing it out. Something scraped between the door and doorjamb.

  The lock clicked. Cole was on his feet -- all four of them -- and growling before he could help it, fear rising thick in the back of his throat. He recognized the smell of sandalwood and soft cotton slacks first; then the dim light caught the lenses of John Lennon-style glasses, small and round on a narrow, dark face. Albert's smile was strange and sad as he knelt before Cole, wolf-Cole with his pale pelt and blue, blue eyes.

  "I told you I could smell him on her," Albert was saying, his hands gently cupping Cole's muzzle. "I told you she was hanging around with another."