The gray hominid figure that stood above him c.o.c.ked its head to the side as spines and barbs began protruding from its shoulders. A gaseous cloud emanated from its form, thickest around its head, forearms, and legs. William lunged back as the creature crossed through the doorway. Methodically, it outstretched a shaky arm toward him, causing its more grotesque features to melt curiously away.

"Ms. Festin?" William propped himself up by his elbows.

"Oh, my." The elderly housekeeper held a chuckle behind her surprise. "Mr. Peur? Oh, I'm sorry." Her laughter finally seeped from between her lips. "I did not mean to scare you. I was coming in to inform you, again, that your supper is ready and getting rather cold."

"Oh, yes, thank you. I am just a little preoccupied at the moment. But yes, food will serve me well." William took hold of Ms. Festin's hand.

"Good." She gingerly helped William to a stable stance. "Will you be eating in the dining room or would you prefer that I set the floor?" The corners of her mouth curled upward as she strode towards the kitchen.

"Yes, yes." William could not help but crack a smile. "You know, for a measly old woman you're quite the jokester. You would be right-minded to highlight that in your resume when you're looking for a new job."

"Oh, Mr. Peur." She spoke with a comical distain. "Always so feisty around mealtime."

"Well..." He froze, remaining on the outskirts of a witty comeback, as his ears again perked to a peculiar, yet familiar, din of scratching and scoring. The aural attack encircled him while somehow holding a formidable distance. Hoping to garner another pair of ears, he sent a glance to the right, only to realize that his housekeeper had already vanished into the kitchen. Unfortunately, as abruptly as the screeching invaded William's perception it had receded.

Fearing any resurgence, he cautiously approached the plate of food that was lying at the precipice of a long, mahogany table. He sat, tentative to propagate even the slightest creak of the wooden chair, and gazed into the slab of beef that filled the plate. Almost immediately, he dropped any inclination to bear his ears to the walls and procured the knife and fork.

He developed such a steadfast intent on fishing out the scuttling intruders that he completely neglected nourishment, for this was, he realized, his first meal of the night. His knife paved through the perfectly charred portion of steak from between the middle tines of his fork with ease. Yet as he hoisted the skewered chunk to his wetted lips, he felt the phantom twitch of his ears once again. There he sat, the juicy morsel mere millimeters from his gapped mouth. He could taste the aroma with every inhalation, but could not move his arms. Along with his intensifying respiration, his ocular movements scoured every conceivable region of his direct vision and peripheries without success. He knew that something, or rather somethings, were inside the walls of his hallowed home. But the aggravating fact that he could not look upon corporeal proof threw his mind into twists of agony.

"How dare you..." William muttered under his breath, blowing his words onto the ever-cooling piece of beef just below his nose.

As if his vapor utterance pierced the immediate vicinity, the torturous din subsided, allowing him to finally pop the morsel into his welcoming palate. Each clamping and retraction of his jaw released a welling ecstasy within his body, as if this was his first introduction to sustenance. Content with the fading fibrousness of the hunk, he swallowed. His gut warmed, his muscles relaxed, and moreover, his mind was put to ease. Although this initial bite uncovered his apparent hunger, he sliced through the meat serenely and calculatedly, savoring each bit of tissue-each dripping of runny, diluted blood. Every now and then William would stop mid-bite, shoot equal glances to the left and to the right, listen, but inevitably return to his chewing. After, one by one, consuming the medley of vegetables and forking through the mashed potatoes, he gathered his plate and silverware from the table and made for the kitchen.

As he stepped up to the sink, an overwhelming feeling, that of being pursued, sent his limbs into rigidity. He sensed a devilish shadow arching overhead and found it increasingly difficult to breathe. An invisible smog began to pour from the rafters, searing William's throat with each rise and fall of his chest.

"I know you're there." He spoke in a rasp, tilting his head to the side without tearing his focus from the cluttered countertop. Suddenly, as if a cleansing wind swept through the room, his skin warmed and he continued toward the sink with only an impotent paranoia. Usually Ms. Festin insisted on tending to the dishes, but William found such trivial ch.o.r.es to be soothing, in a sense, therapeutic.

After quieting the faucet, he made his way to the stairwell, scattering his suspicion along the floorboards as he trod. Each wooden step creaked beneath his featherlike footfalls, setting off a symphony of dissonant voices. He had never felt so unwelcome within his own home. But he nevertheless reached the apex and sauntered past Ms. Festin's room.

"Goodnight, nice work today." He offered his words and stopped with an ear to the door as he would often do. Though she never graced his ears with a reply, William always waited several seconds before moving on. He accepted her silence with grat.i.tude.

Content, he trailed the long oaken banister to his room. As the door crept toward the wall, a scurrying of tiny bodies seemed to track the depleting darkness. He quickly flipped the light switch and scanned his living chamber. The bed was tidy, each pillow and fold of fabric in place. The dresser was cleanly, each knickknack in the proper orientation. Altogether, the room was virtually untouched.

With no shred of haste, William stepped through the archway and latched his fingers around the door, motivating it to the threshold without altering his focus. He again ran his aching eyes over the landscape of his room, attempting to differentiate the overwhelming silence from the door's grinding hinges. Finally, the locking mechanism slid into place as William found himself encased in solitude. He was unhappy when he heard them, those tiny uninvited bodies, but also discontent with the overbearing quiet. Unable to swallow his dread, William slinked over to his luxurious bed, his only unerring sanctuary. He draped the heavy blanket over his trembling body and took in its warmth. Setting the edge to his chin, William tucked the cover around his neck and nestled deep into the mattress.

He awoke, arms flailing, with a raging primal grunt. William sat atop his elbows as tiding images of scattering bodies and scampering legs waned from his psyche. Sweat dribbled from his forehead and arms. Although morning had finally come, he could not help but feel ensnared within a cloud of gloom. Everything looked dirty to him, everything except for the cone of daylight beaming in from the window. Excluding the specks of grime trickling throughout its radiance, the light was pure, a comfort he regularly took for granted. But this day, thankful of every silken fiber against his skin, William took his eyes over the glorious illumination and through the tall window from which it bore. He traced his vision throughout the untainted light-blue of the sky, tagging along with a graceful formation of blackbirds. Looking to the sidewalk below, he smiled at the sight of three skipping schoolchildren. He sat up and commended their playfulness while envying their innocence; he all at once disregarded his fears.

A sudden slapping sounded from the opposing wall, immediately startling his posture and redirecting his focus. Unfortunately, his attempt to seek out a source of the clamor yielded no result. Pa.s.sing his eyes from corner to corner, panel to panel, he found nothing out of the ordinary. His belongings, the dresser, the nightstand, all remained as he left them. Combing needle-like fingertips over his stressed scalp, William tightly clamped his eyelids, returning his would-be focus again to the window.

"No...no...what...no...it's just your mind..." He whispered incessantly, driving his palms into the crown of his head with each word. Forcing his arms aside, William again opened his eyes. He saw the window and beyond with equal clarity as before. Yet, something was new. Housed within the center of the gla.s.s was a miniscule, oblong mound of black. William's brow sank as he leaned over his knees toward the peculiar bulb; he made no movement and neither did it.

Vivid effigies took his mind, he ventured over the memories from last night up to now, saw the way his flesh cringed-the way his hairs lifted-whenever he heard the sound. Distinguishing then from now proved growingly difficult. He wallowed in a subtle panic but did not once rip his gaze from the blackened body. He loathed the manner in which it simply hung there, this untrustworthy organism, as if it harbored no remorse for treading within a man's home.

"You have no right." William spoke from between barely breached lips. Quickly, his hand slung to the bedside table and found the nearest object. The moment his fingers closed he thrust the ma.s.s from a whip of his elbow and crick of his wrist. The projectile struck the pane with a louder snap than William had antic.i.p.ated. Instinctively, his shoulders hunched and his eyelids fluttered. Looking upon the gla.s.s, he was surprised that it had not shattered. Yet, a web of cracking did begin to trickle down to the sill, from where that thing had sat. William then noticed a smear of crimson and violet at its peak. The thick blotting reached about a foot's length with splatters climbing to each edge. He surely thought it impossible that this mess came from that tiny, black body.

His eyes then crept to the floor just below the window. There lie a tapered block of red tissue. The thing was accented with vibrant, yellowed vegetation. As much as he abhorred the very thought, he knew this to be a bodily organ of some kind. He hastily removed himself from the bed and stood over the ma.s.s, it staring up from a widening pool of its blood. Turning his hand, he looked upon the same red blotched over its palm. He edged alongside the sanguine puddle and hurried from his room.

"Ms. Festin!" He yelped, his voice mangled by his chattering jowl. "Ms. Festin...I need your help!"

"What is it, Mr. Peur?" The housekeeper's words trailed up the staircase, her voice completely calm compared to William's.

"There's a mess..." He cleared his throat. "A mess in my room...on the floor..."

"Don't worry, Mr. Peur." Ms. Festin's voice interjected from downstairs, cutting off the shaken William. "I'll take care of it." An odd silence followed. "Just come down and eat, I've prepared your breakfast."

The tinge of gleefulness on her voice gave serenity to William's limbs. Stretching his shoulders and back, he motivated his feet forward, knowing that food would certainly calm his head. As he marched on, his breathing slowed to a tranquil pace. He slinked down the stairs without a creak or moan underfoot. Attributing this as Ms. Festin's handiwork, his expression relaxed into a restrained grin.

Upon entering the kitchen, William found each tile to sparkle. The countertop was uncluttered and polished to a reflective shine. Every inch free of dust or filth; Ms. Festin has outdone herself again. William approached the table in an astonished daze and sat before an inviting bowl of cheerios and milk, his favorite. Collecting the spoon from the tabletop, he teetered back in his chair.

"Thank you, Ms. Festin, the kitchen looks great." He spoke while admiring the glint of his utensil.

"No need to thank me." Ms. Festin's voice rolled down the stairs.

"I was just..." William cut his breath short, dumbfounded. He pondered on how exactly his housekeeper found her way upstairs without pa.s.sing by. Yet, he immediately dropped his puzzlement as the spoon's sheen again caught his eye. Dipping the steel gingerly into the milk, he released every twist of tension from his shoulders. But as he brought the utensil to his chin, he stopped with eyes wide. Stuck throughout the moistened heap of cereal were three bloodied teeth. Releasing his grip on the spoon, William leered down to the bowl. There, atop the circles of cereal, sat several more vermillion stained teeth.

"Ms. Festin!" William shrieked, stumbling over each syllable. "There's a problem down here...I need you to..."

"Don't you worry," The housekeeper's voice again rang from upstairs, cutting off the master's cries. "I will be down in a second." As with earlier, a strange silence followed. "Just go into the study and read a good book, I will take care of everything."

Without a reply or a single disparaging word, William shoved back his chair and stood up from the table. Making the effort to keep his attention from the unnerving cereal bowl, he made hastily for his study. As he prodded open the door and pa.s.sed through its threshold, he felt an imperceptible tranquility wash over his skin.

Lending a tiresome exhale into the air, William fell back into his leather lounger. He noticed a dusty, weathered book balanced across the right armrest and abruptly brought it into focus. The Prospect of the Insect, a novel by Beaufort Giles, he read the gold leaf t.i.tling slowly to himself. The binding cooed as William pried open the cover, his unblinking eyes wavering over each word as he made ample headway into the first chapter. Though, while turning over the next page, he felt his vision darken and his head totter. He soon gave in to slumber, cheek to his shoulder and knuckles resting on the upturned page.

William's eyelids slithered open. He straightened his head, ma.s.saging the stiff ache from his neck. The clock adorning the adjacent wall stared down with scornful intent. Somehow he allowed himself to sleep from early morning to mid-day. With disappointment glossing his features, William ambled from the study, through the kitchen, and up the newly amended stairway. As he walked, the haze began to fade from his periphery. From his lucid awareness, every surface in the house boasted a renewed spotlessness. Stopping at Ms. Festin's room, William put his ear to the door.

"Good work today, Ms. Festin, everything looks immaculate." He offered his words and loitered just outside the room.

"Oh, of course, anything for you, sir." Ms. Festin's voice came as if vapor. William shifted his weight, perplexed. His humble housekeeper never answered his routine utterances of appreciation.

"Is everything alright? If you don't mind me asking." William eliminated further distance between himself and the door.

"Oh...yes...it is all fine." The housekeeper's words came disjointed through a fit of coughing.

William's heart pummeled his ribcage. He grasped the doork.n.o.b and forced the wood to the conjoining wall. Throwing his eyes to the bed before him, William saw his housekeeper's body, at least what was left of it. The shoulders and head were propped up against the headboard while Ms. Festin's desecrated limbs lay splayed out over the soiled sheets. William stood petrified of the disfigured woman, the hair ripped from her scalp, the skin stripped from her face. A flow of tiny black bodies weaved throughout the ravaged carca.s.s, through the foamy blood and muscle, dilating the housekeeper's already pared flesh. A procession of bugs tracked from wrists to sternum as another followed from ankles to pelvis. The scent of putrefying tissue, amalgamated with the sting of flatulence, bore into William's unprepared nostrils; he cupped his nose. It was all he could do to keep from vomiting.

"No! You little f.u.c.king devils!" William spouted until his throat ran raw. "You demons! You intruders! You have no business in my home!" He rotated the hand from his ailing nose as his mouth jostled open for further reviling. Yet, noticing the bugs' quickening pace, he opted for silence. The tiny oblong bodies organized around the housekeepers exposed larynx and began to oscillate.

"We...had...to do it." The words came from the housekeeper's mouth in sharp and surreal jolts. William's extremities froze as a chill swiped over his sweating skin.

"Why...no..." William spoke, turning his head from the disheartening scene. "You might as well kill me too." He inhaled deeply through the tensed gap of his mouth.

"We wish to bring no harm upon you." The mutilated housekeeper's words barely masked the sloshing of busy legs throughout her carved neck. "We are here to serve you, to tend to your every desire. You are our new master."

Forcing his inevitable regurgitation down and his tears aside, William again brought his focus to the blood-saturated mattress. The wetted bugs began to climb out from the caverns of torn sinew and filed over the bed sheets to the floor. Awestruck, William stood his ground. As the shadowlike bodies ama.s.sed at his feet, he noticed a change welling within his gut, a feeling more near curiosity than terror.

The bugs a.s.sembled in uniform rows before him, as if miniscule soldiers awaiting an order. William's knees bent slightly, his body rocked. Outstretching his right arm, he knelt down, placing the edge of his hand to the floorboards. Capturing the nearest bug in his gaze, he watched on as it undulated onto his knuckle. William stood, never breaking his stare, and shakily filled his lungs. He looked over the black b.u.mp, his eyelids never urging to close, as a smile reshaped his lips.

Adaptation.

by Lesley Conner.

Closing her eyes, Thea leaned back on the cream-colored couch, allowing the cushions to swaddle her. It was so relaxing, lying enveloped by the soft pillows. A cool breeze caressed her bare stomach. Relaxed, she sighed in contentment, thinking she would be perfectly happy never stirring again. A light movement along her body forced her to open her eyes. Looking down at her chest, a pair of emerald eyes stared back at her.

"Mommy," the infant cooed. A thin smile formed on pink lips, and the baby nuzzled her chest. It hugged Thea's bare breast and latched on, drawing nourishment from her. A warm, tingling sensation spiraled through her, tugging at her nipple.

Thea smiled, proud she was able to feed her child and help it grow strong.

The green eyes stayed locked on her blue ones as it suckled deeply.

Awareness pushed through the cloud of sleep. Thea struggled to open her eyes. The dream was too strange, too surreal. She wasn't a mother. With school, work, and hopes of one day owning her own business, she didn't want a baby. She knew she was too selfish for that responsibility. Finally, the allure of sleep won out over the wrongness of the dream. She slipped back into its embrace.

The solid heft of the infant weighed heavily on her torso, seeming to pin her to the couch. It continued to stare up at her, and once it seemed sure it had Thea's full attention, it smiled at her again. She could see her nipple stretched into its mouth, its tongue rolled around it. Sharp, shark-like teeth lined the baby's gums.

"Mommy."

Within the confines of the dream, Thea struggled to sit up. The pillows that had been so inviting, so plush a moment before, now were suffocating. The woman fought against their softness, only managing to sink further into them. A giggle escaped the baby, and then it burrowed its face in her chest, ravenously nursing.

Fear forced Thea awake. Her eyes fixed on the textured ceiling as she tried to slow her racing heart beat. The air rushing from between her full lips was loud in the quiet of night. Bringing her hands to her face, she groaned, wondering what the dream meant.

"I guess I'm really not supposed to have kids," she said. "That was a nightmare." She let out a little laugh of relief. The bed sheets rustled against the mattress. Thea froze, focusing on the sound, and then tried to sit up. A heavy weight on her chest stopped her. Panic crept up her spine, tightening the muscles on either side of her back. Even though she didn't want to, she looked down across her body. A pair of emerald eyes stared back. A scream ripped from Thea's throat.

"Mommy," a soft voice said. The creature, lying across Thea's torso, looked like a baby, chubby and almost cherubic, but lacked the pink glow of a newborn. Instead, its skin was grayish blue and opaque. Its pale, milky lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing the razor-like teeth Thea had seen in her dream. She couldn't help but scream again at the sight of her bare breast within its mouth. Blood oozed from several bite marks, bathing the creature's tongue and throat. It swallowed greedily. Pudgy hands grasped her, trying to shove more of her large breast into it. The fingers ended in sharp nails digging into her tender flesh, bringing tears to the woman's eyes. As she lay there, frozen by both fear and shock, the baby giggled. Not only did it understand the terror it was causing, but it seemed to enjoy it.

It was the laugh that broke through Thea's denial. The sound was high and grating. It was something she'd never heard, not from an infant or anything else. Her legs kicked at the covers. Her hips bucked, trying to dislodge the creature. Its eyes narrowed, filling with hate. It used its sharp nails to anchor itself to her body and then it smiled at her.

As she lashed out, Thea thought she saw it wink up at her, and then it bit down. The pain was instantaneous, circling from her breast, then through her body. Blackness swept over her, wanting to force her into unconsciousness. Thea fought harder, not knowing what would happen to her if she allowed herself to blackout.

Her flailing hands came into contact with the baby and she clutched it just as desperately as it was clutching her. Yanking the thing away from herself, she felt her skin ripping and saw the baby swallow. Her nipple was gone. As she flung the creature across the room, she allowed herself to cry out once in pain and grief for her ruined breast. And then she ran, clad only in a pair of thin, black panties and a torn t-shirt.

Thea heard the baby moving from the corner. She didn't look back to see if it was following, but focused on her bedroom door instead. Her feet pounded on the soft, rose colored carpet, eating up the distance of the room. Wrapping her fingers around the doork.n.o.b, she yanked open the door and stepped into her hallway. A plaintive wail called from the bedroom. A part of Thea yearned to go back and cuddle the injured infant, but the rest of her balked at the idea, shoving the motherly feelings aside like she'd been doing most of her adult life. If she wanted to survive, she knew right now was not the time to start listening to her biological clock.

Halfway down the hallway, Thea risked a look back, needing to know whether or not she was being followed. The baby was crawling across the bedroom floor, illuminated by moonlight filtering through lacy curtains, one leg dragging behind. It raised its head towards her, its face scrunched in agony and let out another cry. Thea backed away from it, making her way to the front door of the small house.

The baby climbed to its unsteady feet and toddled towards her, hands raised to clutch her. It babbled and cooed, looking just as sweet as the infant in her dream.

Suddenly, its feet flashed against the carpet, covering the distance between the two quickly, as the charade of innocence was dropped. Turning, Thea ran.

She rushed through the house, her bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s swinging with each step. Blood splattered from the gaping hole in her right breast, covering her body and soaking the remains of her shirt. The pain was shocking.

Moonlight lit the narrow hallway, allowing Thea to avoid the clutter threatening to trip her. As she entered the kitchen, she let out a little yelp of joy. The front door was only a few feet away, and she knew she was going to escape.

Just as her steps were gaining confidence, Thea slipped, her body falling forward. She reached her arms out, trying to grab a hold of anything that would stop her fall, but they banged against the kitchen counter and then followed her to the floor.

The creature was on her in an instant. Small hands and feet dug into her skin as it crawled over her, its sharp nails sliding through the fabric of her shirt with ease. It bit and licked its way up her body, finally settling on her back. Thea could feel its breath on her neck.

"Why are you running, Mommy?" Its breath ruffled her hair as it leaned towards her. "I'm hungry. Don't you want to feed your baby?" A long, pointed tongue flicked out of its teeth-filled mouth and ran along the inside of her ear. "I'm so hungry, and you taste so good."

Thea felt it nibbling her earlobe. Her mind replayed the sight of it biting through her breast and swallowing her nipple. Anger surged through her, making her chest feel hot and tingly. She wasn't going to lose another part of herself to this monster. As she found her feet and stood, the creature slipped down her back. Its nails ripped through her shirt and dug into her skin. It screeched in protest, sounding like nails on a chalkboard. Clamoring higher, it settled on her shoulder and grabbed her by the neck.

"I'm hungry, Mommy. Feed me." Its voice was shrill, sending waves of revulsion through Thea. Without thinking of the long, sharp talons pressed into her throat, she grabbed the creature around its soft, round belly. Squeezing, she pulled it off of her and looked it in the face. Ribbons of her skin clung to its nails. She could feel blood pouring from the wounds it'd raked into her neck, and for the first time, she knew if she didn't get help soon, she would be dead. The chubby cheeks and pouting lips smiled at her, showing its joy for her terror as it popped its fingers into its mouth and sucked her flesh from them. Its nose wrinkled with happiness.

Not wanting to hold the squirming thing any longer, Thea dropped it to the floor and kicked it back down the hallway. She scrambled around the kitchen table and grasped the locked, front door. As she fumbled with the deadbolt, she couldn't help but look back down the hall. She could hear the thing coming towards her again, but couldn't see it.

Finally the door was open, and Thea ran out into the night air. Her skin puckered in its chill. She stumbled down the steps of her small porch and paused, not sure where to go for help. Looking around at the forest and the deserted road, she turned to her left and headed for Mrs. Burns' house.

The old widow was Thea's closest neighbor. Her house sat at the bottom of a long hill and was surrounded by a rock garden inhabited with what seemed like hundreds of lawn ornaments. Thea had asked her about it once, thinking it looked incredibly tacky, and Mrs. Burns had simply said she didn't have to mow a rock garden.

Now, Thea was happy to see the collection of garden gnomes and plastic animals grow bigger as she got closer. Her head was beginning to feel heavy and her steps were faltering. She kept reminding herself why she was bothering her elderly neighbor in the middle of the night. It felt like it had all been a dream. It was only the sight of her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and the wounds and blood they bore, that proved to her it hadn't been.

Thea's bare feet were wet from the dew forming on the gra.s.s, leaving prints on the cold, stone path as she walked towards the house in the middle of the rock garden. She found it hard to control the shaking that had settled in her arms. Her eyes were growing heavy. The porch was so close, but all she wanted was to lie down and go to sleep.

A clamoring from behind made Thea jump. She heard a giggle in response. Turning, she choked on a cry as she saw the baby crawling across the rock garden. Its long nails clicked on the stones, and it grinned at her. Dipping its head, it licked at a drop of blood.

"I found you, Mommy." The creature giggled again. "Not that it was hard. You left a yummy trail for me to follow."

Terror poured through Thea, pushing back the shock that had been taking over her body. She watched as the infant stood and started running towards her. Stumbling on the flat stones of the path, she turned and ran. Her eyes were opened wide, searching for anything to defend herself with. There was nothing amid the smiling lawn ornaments.

Veering from the path, Thea took off across the rock garden, trying to buy herself some time. Jagged points of rock bit into the tender flesh of her bare feet. They were uneven and hard to run across. She had to concentrate to keep from falling.

It wasn't too many steps until her battle to stay upright was lost. She fell against a large, cement donkey. The a.s.s was cold and unmoving, toppling the softer woman to the ground. Thea heard the baby give a whoop of glee as she tried to sit up. As she struggled, she saw the creature crawl over the top of the donkey. It smiled down on her from its perch.

"Caught you, Mommy. This has been fun, but I'm getting tired of our game. And so it must come to an end."

"You're right. It must." Thea shot a foot out and knocked the creature from the donkey's back. Then she placed both feet on its side and shoved with all of her strength. At first, the lawn ornament didn't move, and Thea feared that it was somehow anch.o.r.ed to the ground, but then she felt it give a little. Pushing even harder, she finally toppled the cement ornament. It fell to the ground with a thud, pinning the creature beneath it. A loud wail erupted from the baby's mouth as its short arms pushed at the donkey. Its small face scrunched in anger and pain.

Thea stood up and looked down at the infant-sized monster. It no longer looked terrifying to her. Instead, it seemed small and pathetic. Weariness weighed on the woman's shoulders. She wanted this all to be over. She wanted to slip back into the comforts of a dreamless sleep.

Looking at the ground around her, Thea bent to pick up a large rock with a flat side. She crouched down beside the wiggling creature and lifted the rock high above her head. It came down hard, first with a soft pop, and then a crunch as it pa.s.sed through the tissue of the monster's face and ground into the rocks beneath it. Thick, black blood splattered across the cement back of the donkey and covered Thea's hands. As she stood, she wiped them on the tatters of her t-shirt, thinking to herself that the thing had popped like an engorged tick. She guessed it really hadn't been much more than that.

Turning, she tried to cover her nakedness as she climbed the rickety steps of her neighbor's porch and knocked on the door. The sun was rising over the hills. Morning had come to drive away all remaining nightmares.