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Chapter 5

     The Story The Authors
Hissssssssssssss...went the escaping shadow. Triple-f*ck it all! cursed Tiki, yet she was unable to subdue the smile which rose to her face. An unwarranted accident, to be sure; but "Coincidence is the Mother of Invention," as the saying goes...
And down below, if there was one hitch which the insidiously promethean mind of Bitsy Bootleg had not considered, it was the oily black fog of adipose shadow which had begun to seep down from the ceiling, covering the room and the vision of the two in the room in an ever-thickening film of liquid soot. It gave her the opportunity she was looking for to get closer to Dr. Smack -- "What's happening, Dr.? It's like the End of the World...it's...Hold me, Dr. Smack, I'm scared. I've, I've always been scared of the dark..." -- she wasted no time in draping herself about him like an overly needy devilfish as the darkness settled upon the room and on the whole East Wing of the hospital, until it seemed that the sun might as well have gone out for the way an impenetrably pitch blackness covered everything, sight and sound, then smell and taste; andf finally even tactility, for the boundaries of objects and identities began to soften in the darkness much as vegetables begin to soften and dissolve into the greater Gestalt of a pot of soup. Soon the only thing of any specificity remaining in the East Wing of the hospital was Tiki's pair of enormous, luminous eyes, glowing in their tiny pocket of light in the darkness above the ceiling of Dr. Smack's office, and listening intently to the hideous sounds of lip-smacking and cheweing and swallowing which rose to her ears from below.
Philip Welsh
Tiki wasn't afraid of the dark like Bitsy Bootleg. She remembered her youth, and the mud. She had lived in mud, always attracted to the warmth and grime. It made her dirty and wormy on the outside, to cover up the dirt she felt within. She'd slither in it till it filled her ears and crusted her hair. Now she wanted to fill the mouths and ears of Bitsy Bootleg with muddy shadows. To let Bitsy know what it feels like to be a mud baby, to make it so she is unable to love. Omigod
"Steady there" growled Dr. Smack as he deftly patted his numerous pockets for a match."This is no time for histrionics." Quickly but firmly he attempted to wriggle from the engulfing grasp of Bitsy Bootleg. The ominous hissing continued on like a leak in a garden hose. Dr. Smack could feel it tugging at his pants cuff. It seemed as if even the encompassing darkeness were being slowly and inexorably being sucked out of the room. "Perhaps, um, it might be a good time to check on the, um, patients" stuttered Dr. Smack as he found the match he'd been searching for. while sidling towards the door with Bitsy still attached. "You can release me if you like. You're perfectly safe with me." "I'm still too scared."cooed Bitsy as she sought a firmer grasp just under the good doctor's beltline. Doctor's poise began to loosen with his belt and he lit the match. The room exploded with light and noise for a brief second illuminating a small dimesize hole in the far corner. This was the source of the hissing sound and the entire office, walls, furniture, potted plants, bookshelves and knick knacks alike were being slowly sucked into it like so much bathwater. Lanark
Tiki, above, hadn't counted on the appearance of a material vortex. jermy
Neither, for that matter, had Bitsy, anymore than she'd figured in the matter of Dr. Smack's having contracted leprosy during his youthful days as a medical resident in a charity hospital in the slums of Calcutta, which, although fully cured, left him with a complete lack of feeling in his extremities. Why, she'd literally eaten a proverbial pound of his flesh, and the fool hadn't even noticed! She unlocked her pelvis from the wound it had gnawed it Smack's leg, and as she stood, skirt still hiked up and lodged in her waistband, she turned her exposed pelvis toward the vortex. Instantly her most secret secret, the dreaded razorsharp rows of dentata vaginal, or lower teeth, as hollow as hungry as a vampire's fangs, were seized in the hyperdensifying magneto-dimensional tug of the vortex, plucked from her flesh, and disappeared into the swirling cosmic maw. She fainted. So did Smack, noticing for the first time the gaping wounds in his leg where Bitsy had been feeding. Philip Welsh


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