by LJ McLeod
Once a month, when the moon was dark, the Zips would come trawling for new skins. Those who lived on the streets scarred their skin and covered themselves in filth. The Zips were very particular. They preferred fresh meat, before track marks and deprivation marred the flesh.
Tonight, a new girl worked the corner. Nobody warned her—better her than them. A Zip cornered her, pulling at its zipper. Its face split in two, revealing jagged darkness. The girl screamed. Darkness surged down her throat and began eating away the unnecessary insides.
Next month a new Zip would come a-calling.
LJ McLeod lives in Queensland, Australia. She works in Pathology and writes in her spare time. She has been published in several anthologies and has been nominated twice for the Aurealis Award. In her spare time she enjoys diving, reading and travelling.