By Claire Fitzpatrick
Mar 1, 2019 · 100 words · 1 minute

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To call the liquescent horror that slid out from between my legs a monstrosity would be a falsehood. As its head twisted upwards to face me, and its forked tongue sought my swollen breast, I knew I would protect this creature with my life.

“They will cut down the tree that would be your coffin,” I whispered. “But we won’t let them, love.”

The wind howled with an urgency surpassed only by the incessant uproar of those determined to fatally subdue the infant’s cries.

I held the beastly creature to my breast and kissed its bloodied forehead.

“Make mamma proud.”

Claire Fitzpatrick

Claire Fitzpatrick writes speculative fiction, specialising in body horror.

1 Comment
  • March 1, 9:06am

    This short story conveys so much with elegant and lustrous words.