Trying something totally different here… the open mic night I attend is doing a Spooky Slam tonight, so we’re supposed to have ghost-inspired, supernatural kind of work.
This can’t be real. The baby he–
he–can’t be
But there he is, right before her eyes…
Blond hair disappearing into reddening flesh,
horns sprouting from eyebrow ridges
his baby blues turning into deep pools
of blackness that threaten to consume.
Rattling, rasping cries, screeches somewhere
between a raptor and a hound’s bay
echo in her skull.
A chubby-fingered hand reaches toward her
morphing into a pustule-covered mass of flesh
that causes her to shrink away.
A hiss, behind her, stills her rapid heart and
cuts off her breath.
She doesn’t want to turn around.
Her first born stands in the doorway his
tongue forked like a serpent, his eyes blackened.
The devil is in her house.
It all went dark and now
she stands on the lawn and looks back at the flames.
Pain causes her to double over.
Her shoulder blades writhe beneath her skin and
tear through flesh. Wings
sprout, and glisten
in the firelight.
The flames rage. The devil is trapped there.
She runs, leaps, and
She flies.
The next morning, the headline in the paper reads:
Mother of two burns home with children inside
Runs into highway traffic. Killed instantly.