by Hari Navarro
The tip of his stake pushes the cloth from my chest and settles against my hardening nipple. I prick my tongue on the rapier prongs in my mouth, and I open the moist stick of my lips and offer he, who would be my killer, a glimpse of their reddening shine.
“I’m human. See in me a ghost of the life that was torn from my neck?” I whisper as my long fingers wrap around the hard black wood in his fist.
“I see you. I’m not here to kill the beast. I’m killing the wretched man you once were.”
Hari Navarro has for many years now been locked in his neighbours cellar. He survives due to an intravenous feed of puréed extreme horror and sticky-spiced unicorn wings. His anguished cries for help can be found via 365 Tomorrows, Breachzine, AntipodeanSF, Black Hare Press and HellBound books.
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