Page 73 of Malicent
The voice isn’t in my head anymore. It’s here at the foot of my bed.
The sound—no longer singular—shifts between four voices, layered and broken. Male and female. Young and old. All speaking as one.
Terror coils in my stomach as I press myself tighter against the headboard. My hands shake uncontrollably.
I open my mouth to scream, but there’s no time.
A figure launches from the foot of my bed. It’s a woman, if she can be called that. Her black hair hangs to her waist, veiling her face entirely. Below her chest, there’s nothing but bone; her ribs protrude outward, skinless and slick.
She crawls like a spider, and she’s fast.Too fast.
In the time it takes me to blink, she’s on top of me.
Four arms—the same ones that dragged me under the lake—grip my ankles and wrists. She slams me flat against the bed with overwhelming strength.
I thrash, desperate to break free, but it’s useless. My limbs barely twitch beneath her crushing grip, and my muscles scream…burn. Still, I am too weak.
Her exposed spine stretches beyond where her ribs end, lengthening unnaturally into a sharp, pointed tail.
It twitches.
“Little lamb, offered up.”
She laughs—a fractured, maniacal sound that rattles through the air.
Then she darts forward. Her hair-draped face presses against my ear, her breath hot and sour.
“Long have we lingered,” she whispers, her voice cracking. “Since the day you were born, you have belonged to me. A vessel waiting to be filled. Let me complete you.”
Pain erupts violently across my stomach as she slams her ribcage into me. Bone pierces flesh.
I scream, but no sound escapes.
We are joined, bound by the grotesque merging of body and will.
Her face jerks, twitching unnaturally before her mouth finds mine.
She kisses me, but not with affection—with ownership. Her crusted, slime-coated lips seal over mine. A thick, putrid sludge floods down my throat.
The pressure is unbearable. My throat stretches too far—skin pulled taut around my neck as it bulges.
I convulse.
My eyes roll back and my knee twists sideways, breaking the joint under her force. Then my shoulder gives out, bones tearing from sockets.
And then…
Darkness.
Not sleep.
Not death.
Absence…like someone has blown out the flame that fed my soul.
Chapter 20
Cage
