Corpubus

It soaked Karen’s blonde hair in her own blood. Strands caught and ripped at the root by the seams of wood connecting the dowels to the handrail leaving a trail of crimson in her wake as she reached the bottom of the stairs.

The fake crystal chandelier rotated above her, two became three and merged into one.

She tried to concentrate, to get the world to make sense, but all she knew was that her husband was still upstairs with that thing fighting it off alone.

Her hands slid against the tiles. Sticky and cold. Greg had left the light on above the stove as he always did. It’s in this dim brightness she sees it at the top. Peering at her with two clenched fists.

“Baby?” she called in a raspy tone.

She wanted to hear his voice once more to know he was still with her. What she got instead of words was a low-pitched gurgling sound, but he’s alive. A chance.

“Look at the slug,” the thing said, taking a step. “Such a pretty little trail from the slug.”

She rolled to her stomach. The door. The neighbors. A passing car. Help had to be outside.

Her palm slipped, Karen dug the flat tips of her nails in the brown grout as the base peeled away from the rest of her finger.

Terry placed his sneaker in the small of her back. “You’re pathetic,” he said and stepped on top with both feet.

She couldn’t breathe. All that existed was the smooth texture of the tile as her face flailed sideways trying to find a sliver of oxygen and the delicate cracking sounds of her spine under his soles.

One eye closed. Then the other. A bead of fresh blood from the gash on her forehead hung off the bridge of her nose before falling. This is it. Killed being squeezed dry. A human tube of toothpaste.

“Karen.”

It’s him. Thud. Thud. A dripping arm reached over the top step and pulled. His tongue lapped around his empty mouth.

They’re together.

“You like the upgrade to your husband? Slugs don’t need teeth and unfortunately for him I‘m short on time to wait for evolution to catch up with the inevitable.”

He stepped off. She shook and curled herself into a ball, gasping as the rush of air fills her lungs.

What a vision for this feeding. Just the type of woman that wouldn’t be bothered to say “hello” to Terry when he was human. Toned. Long slender legs. Optic white smile. So perfect in fact he decided not to remove each tooth as he did with the husband.

Rejection was a thing of the past. Now he took what he wanted. All the beautiful girls were his toys. All the alpha-male assholes, too. Tits and broken bones.

Heaven, as it turned out, was real.

“Don’t pretend you‘re not into the rough stuff. You seem just the type. I’ll bet that’s what I interrupted. Look at that sexy black lace. Shit. Your ass is hanging out of those panties. Well hold on. Things are about to get really hard for you and the hubby.” He lifted Karen into the air with one hand by the bra strap. She swung blindly being rocked like an infant. “Hey you up there, let‘s move her closer for a better view. You strike me as the type that likes to watch.”

The base of her skull smacked the bottom step. There’s so much liquid from the slug the sound it made was wet. If he closed his eyes, it could be a boot splashing into a shallow puddle. None of that tonight. The toll had been paid on modesty.

He mounted her and wrapped his hand across her neck just under the chin.

Why did they have to be so loud? This was his time. Sacred. He deserved every second to savor her body to pacify the urges. To feel her soft skin all over his.

Then it would be Greg’s turn. More. Break him more, cut more. All the pent up anger and resentment from needing to hide what he was. A target he becomes. That’s how his flesh served him; by being ripped open and tormented. After all, the best way to kill a slug is cover it with salt and watch it explode.

Her jugular was twitching under his palm. The police would be there soon. Time to eat and run.

He takes a deep breath. Life, life from the moaning slug fills him. Another gasp. Two more. The nectar. Straight from the gods to his core. Pleasure this pure, this divine, should not be restricted to moderation. If he was only supposed to taste why did it set his soul on fire?

Another breath. She was motionless now but still alive.

“Stop,” the husband said. He crawled to the next step. Skin slipping on blood and wood.

Terry leaned in and drew in one last pull of essence. God is reborn.

Karen was transparent, lifeless and beginning to crumble as the world caught on to the fact her usefulness had ended. Greg let gravity take him. His joints crashed on each landing. He hit the bottom in a cloud of ash and reached around frantically for Karen before slowly realizing that she’s gone.

She’s the cloud.