by Colleen Foley
I landed on all fours in a miasma of mud, slime and scattered bones.
She stood naked in the middle of it, beautiful – save the thing nestled
between her breasts, pulsing red and grey.
I stood. She tilted my chin up and kissed me. I tried to close my fist and couldn’t.
“You and I will die, as we vent upon the world the plague that will destroy your brother.”
She gently licked the thing on my chest. In my head, a clock began to tick.
“You’re wrong. Seth won’t get sick. He has magic.”
She only smiled.
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