Hair flowed from the neckhole of the hung-up nightgown, thick and dark, tangled as a wild animal's pelt. She could only gaze on in disbelief as more and more hair spilled over the neckline and a withered head quietly rose up looking nonchalant, like nothing was wrong at all.
She held her gaze steady as its eyes, dry and withered as the rest of its face, glanced about the room before landing on her huddled form. They held eye contact for what felt like hours as more and more of its body extended from within the nightgown.
Arms ending in branch-like clusters of claw-tipped hands swung from the delicate lace of the sleeves as a thick, bulbous torso slowly fell to the floor. It reminded her of a worm almost, or a slug made from pig's meat - all blotchy red and sweaty as if holding its body inside the flimsy nightgown had exhausted it.
She hoped it was exhausted but the way its eyes were locked onto the pulse in her throat suggested otherwise.
No comments:
Post a Comment