Spotless, the house was spotless. I had trays of snacks, a cooler full of drinks, extra deck chairs arrayed throughout the living room… The only thing missing was the guests. Already I was exhausted, but the party would stretch on until evening for sure. I did not exactly look forward to the next morning, but for now I was satisfied.

“God you’re fussy,” my sister told me. The door banged shut behind her. There was an assortment of meats for the grill.

I complained, “I told you, this is a dinner party, not a cookout!”

“Whatever, you’ll thank me later.”

Hesitant, I asked, “why—what did you do?”

“Invited a couple friends over. Don’t worry, they’re cool. Just a couple of dudes I met at Uni.” She’d gone to university just a few towns over, but I preferred the quiet rural life here.

“Damn it, I told you! No frat boys.”

She held up a hand with a twisted grin, “Relax, told them it was a polite party. Anyway, it’ll be fun and you might meet someone nice! Hanging around this cow patty podunk isn’t gonna get you laid or put a ring on your finger. Your choice is Angus McFarland, or Angus Beef.” She chortled at her own humor. I just glared.

No matter, it was no matter at all. I’d deal with it, I always did. “Fine, whatever! What-ev-er. But if they break anything I’m taking it out of your pocket. You hear me?” She heard me and tried to look busy. Damn it.

An hour passed, more guests arrived by ones and twos. At first it was faces I knew, people from around town or neighboring towns. I was way out in the boonies of course, even local towns folks had to drive a ways, but the view. Oh the view… As they arrived, I stood out on the porch and watched. My land ended at a cliff that overlooked a river. That river had carved the land into sharp crags and even wrought caves below. My root cellar for instance was nothing more than a lime stone pocket with a roof over it.

At last came the—others. A pair of boys barely old enough to drink. I didn’t recognize them but they called me by name as they mounted the steps. I gave them my best country welcome and waved them in. One carried a case of beer and the other a rack of ribs. Well, ribs were fine, I supposed, and at least they wouldn’t drink up all my wine!

Another vehicle pulled up and parked on the lawn. Four more strangers unloaded. A van arrived, and out poured six. I stared in consternation at them, only the realization that it was a logical progression helped me keep calm. So of course, eight would show up next, then ten, then twelve. Nope, three arrived. There followed another dozen or two. By the time the last vehicle had torn up my lawn I’d counted no less than eighty people including my own twelve guests.

My sister found me on the porch still. I could hear them carousing and laughing within, but I couldn’t bare to step inside. “Hey, what are you doing out here? Don’t you have guests to entertain?”

I looked up at her, eyes already full of tears. Her words were enough to send me over the edge, “You bitch… You god damned bitch. You always do this, always ruin everything I try to do!”

“That’s nonsense, I didn’t ruin shit. Not my fault Jared called Frank, or that Frank posted those house party posters in the commons.” She stopped there, then in a softer voice added, “It’s not so bad though, really. Nothing broken, no thrown fists. Go on in, I’ll introduce you to Stephen, you’ll like him, he’s taking Southwestern History with me.”

What could I say or do? It was my party, crashed, but still my party. I had my own guests to worry about. I couldn’t simply abandon them to the wolves! “Fine. Fine. It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine, but I’d be fucked if I lashed out a second time.

There followed a boisterous cheer as I entered the kitchen. My sushi had already been demolished with only a scatter of rice to mark it’s slaughter. I pushed on into the house, so packed solid that I had to squeeze between people. To my utter shock I felt a hand, warm and strong, slide straight up the back of my skirt and give my rear a squeeze. I yelped aloud and spun, but the hand was gone and there was not a guilty face to be seen. I was tempted to scream at them, but held my tongue, barely.

Another hand found my breast as I squeezed past the arm chair. I saw the man who did it—this time—saw him grin, saw him wink, and felt his rough fingers pinch down on my areola! I stared back with mouth agape as he continued to manhandle me! Some one else noticed, his eyes lit up, and he too reached for my other pert breast. He just barely brushed it before I slapped both of their hands down in utter fury. “Oh… I thought… Sorry.” the second mumbled, but the first had vanished. I cursed my stature, too short to see over the crowd.

I at last found my sister again. She had a beer in one hand, and an entire bottle of wine in the other, my wine. I would have loved to, at that moment, smash the bottle over her head. But as I approached I heard her say, “...needs to loosen up!… yeah! I don’t know, six out of ten maybe?” Her eyes found me, she grinned and waved me closer. I approached, “Here Sis! This is Stephen, the stud I told you about.”

I looked the man over once. Older than the frat idiots, but not by much. Dark hair, bright eyes, tanned skin. He didn’t look half bad really. His eyes fell on me and they slid like grease from my face to my breast, then breast to belly and hips. That was bad enough, but when he was done, he looked away and told my sister clearly, “Maybe a three.” Okay I’ll just say, I was mortified. My fists balled, the blood drained from my face, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to swing at his face, or run from the house.

My dilemma was interrupted rudely as another hand slipped up my skirt. This one managed to jam itself right between my thighs and prod at the crotch of my panties. I jerked up onto tip toes and yelped aloud. My sister, that stupid fucking cunt faced bitch monster—laughed. Someone behind me laughed, then the hand was gone. “Y-you’re doing this on purpose! You planned this!” I accused. There were tears in my eyes again.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. Maybe he’s gay? I don’t know.”

Stephen scoffed, “I’m not gay.”

I could take no more, I fled through the gyre that had become my living room. I was touched, poked, groped, fondled and pushed. Instead of the front door, I managed to make it to the stairs. I darted through a clear pass and up as fast as I could. I made it to the top, and discovered my bedroom door ajar. There, upon my bed, naked as the day she was born, was Jenny, my uptight christian neighbor. Between her wide flung thighs was one of the strange frat boys, his thrusts as violent as a beast in rut. She looked like she was having the time of her life!

My office too had been spoiled, the paintings I’d set to dry scattered upon the floor with a pair of gyrating strangers atop. I again recognized the woman, another one of my friends and guests. She looked up at me as I stood there in shock, and she grinned. She—grinned! I couldn’t take it, couldn’t believe what my eyes told me. Beth Harris, farmer, wife, mother. I watched her as she rode the young man with bestial passion!

I fled of course, back down the stairs, toward the front door. More gropes even a number of probably well intentioned hugs, but I rejected all. I saw no one I recognized, no one I knew. I felt trapped and helpless as the crowd pushed back against my frantic struggle. But at last, at last I got to the door. I was ready to leave, ready to run into the field and throw myself from the cliff perhaps! I grabbed the door and pulled. It stuck as usual, but a hard wrench got it open. The motion also tossed me back against someone in the kitchen.

To my utter astonished horror, I felt him. He hugged me, his strong arms drew me in, his alcohol tainted breath wafted past my nose as his lips found the side of my neck. But that was not the worst of it, no, I felt his tiny naked cock. I felt him jam it between my cheeks and push my dress in with it. I felt him thrust. I felt his hands roam, I felt him try perhaps even to dance. And then my mortification was complete as I felt him lose control of his bladder, right into my dress, into the crease of my ass.

I did not pull away. I did not struggle. What use was there? What point was there? His little dick twitched against my cloth covered anus with the beat of his heart, and unloaded. Urine ran down my legs, stained my favorite dress, and completed my humiliation. I stood there and let him, stood there as urine filled my shoes, stood there and just wept. He grabbed my breast and gave it a squeeze, he grabbed my crotch from the front and pulled me back. Still he urinated, perhaps he didn’t even realize he was.

Something snapped inside of me, and I slammed my elbow back as hard as I could. I caught him in the sternum, knocked the wind from his lungs, and sent him to the floor. I had enough of a mind to look back, to stare into his face. I would know him, I would not forget that face! I stared until he looked away in shame, I stared even as the fountain of urine sprayed up between us and back down onto his jeans. I stared, and then I turned and stomped out the front door, off the porch, and into the dark lawn beyond. I’d had quite enough for one night!

I woke with the dawn, cold and damp. I’d fallen asleep under a tree not far from the cliff. There had been no danger of a deadly stumble, the fence would have kept me from accident. Still, It’d been stupid and I quietly acknowledged this fact. I knew what I would find, I’d seen it before though never in my own home. There were still a dozen vehicles on the muddy lawn of course. Inside… inside was a disaster I could not even begin to cope with.

Bodies lay upon the living room furniture, another under the dining room table. I could hear snores and moans from up the stairs, and even someone vomiting in the bathroom. The house stank of spilled beer, bodies, sex, and worse. I decided then, the carpet would have to go. It was done, there was no way to rescue it. Someone had knocked a candle over for starters, there was a half meter burn and puddle of hardened wax, now drenched in beer and possibly urine. I sure as hell wasn't going to get on hands and knees to sniff and find out for sure!

Urine… oh god. I shuddered in revulsion as I recalled that—man. I bolted for the bathroom, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to vomit or shower first. Neither was likely. A pair of naked bodies lay in the bath, a third had his head in the clogged and full toilet. He heaved again when I burst through the ajar door. Vomit and sewage poured under the seat onto the floor.

“I’ve had it!” I screamed. I screamed it at the top of my lungs and stomped my way through the house again. “Wake the fuck up you useless wastes of human filth! Get the fuck out of my house before I call the police!” It took four more repeats before I had everyone awake. Down the stairs stumbled Beth, naked, her clothes lost. She looked both embarrassed and far too satisfied with herself. She couldn’t even meet my eye.

By ones and twos, the party fled into the morning light. Some left shirts or pants behind, a few completely naked. I did not care, they had made their choice, now they reaped their reward. In a matter of ten minutes I was alone. My sister of course had slunk out sometime in the night, she was never one to stick around when there was work to be done. It was also possible she knew I was ready to kill the bitch dead. I savored the thought, even imagined her tiny neck crushed under my fingers. Fantasy though, did not complete any work. Bathroom, bathroom first I decided. I wanted a shower!

Oh hell, what a mess… I dropped to my knees and began to scrub. I’d get water soon enough, but there was enough—other—fluids on the floor to use a towel to begin. I crawled about on hands and knees, my dress ruined already, my body filthy, my mind in a place too dark to reflect upon. It was horrible, simply horrible. Even the bath tub was smeared in what could only be sexual fluids and vomit! She would die, my sister, I would see her dead for this. Every scrub of the rag, I imagined it as a swipe of the knife or twist of the rope. Dead. Dead. Dead. She would be Dead!

The last corner done, I moved on to the toilet. It was a wreck. I debated the insane thought; what if I lit the house on fire? The moment passed and sense returned—arson charges would not improve my mood. I honestly doubted anything would, as I stared into the sewage slop. How many people had used the damn thing even after it was clogged? The plunger, pristine and untouched sat only an arms reach away!

I acquired the mighty tool of justice, held my breath, and leaned over the defiled throne. There was no helping it, I just sank the bell end in, and went to furious work. A minute passed, my body heated with exertion. Another minute, and my arms ached, yet nothing flowed in either direction. Another minute, and I gave it a rest, “Plumber snake maybe… Dad might have left one somewhere...” I muttered and stared anywhere but the fetid hole of my ire.

One last attempt, and the pipe made an uncomfortable scrape below the toilet. Had I dislodged it? Did the bolts break off? It was old, but I hadn’t thought it that corroded! I pulled the plunger out and stepped back for a moment. The toilet jostled and the pipe groaned. That wasn’t right. What the hell had they flushed down there? I stared, astonished and concerned to be sure, but I couldn’t look away. The toilet shifted to the right, then the left. There followed a moment later, a sloppy gurgle as the overflowing contents drained away without trouble. The clog had wrenched itself lose… Yeah I was rather disturbed, but I wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I did however look in the bowl just to make sure… then flushed.

Clean water washed away the remains, though it would probably be an hour of work to get the whole bathroom spotless. Some people just couldn’t aim. “Well, whatever. At least it works now,” I told myself, then reached for the brush and began to scrub away.

I was nearly done when the toilet moved again. This time another deep groan arose from the pipe below. There was no basement, just a sewer trunk below the house. The groan though seemed to come from a much larger area. Then the toilet broke. The porcelain I’d just cleaned cracked from base to bowl, water flowed out across the floor. A bolt that had been holding the toilet down, sheered away with a gunshot like snap… and the whole toilet was wrenched aside in two major pieces with a number of shrapnel like bits. From the pipe below surged—something.

It looked almost like a snake, a snake nearly as big around as the pipe itself. It glistened with sloppy wetness and writhed back and forth across the bathroom twice. The thing left behind a greenish-brown smear where ever it touched, and exposed it’s wrinkled, craggy skin, devoid of scales. Not a snake, no, but whatever it was… I’d stared too long.

After the second sweep across the room, it found me. Like a snake, the moment it touched my shin, it immediately coiled and clasped. Unfrozen at last, I tried to flee as a scream of delayed startled horror ripped from my throat. There was no escape. Tangled between and around my legs, it tripped me as I tried to move, and dragged me back. It crept higher on my body, coiled and squirming up me like runner beans on a pole. My jeans were soaked through with muck as it explored and enveloped me. Coil after coil enveloped, over, through, between, and around. My legs were parted and tangled individually while the head crept up my body.

I got a good look at last, and no snake had ever possessed a head like that. No eyes, nose, or mouth, but a knotted pucker of digits, like two fists curled together with a protruding sucker at the center. The face opened like a horrible flower, each digit a petal made of knuckle bones and sticky flesh, twelve in all in six pairs that twitched and searched like insect antennas.

To my stomach it went first, the flat muscular plane exposed as the shirt was torn apart and cast aside. That puckered center kissed and sucked at my flesh here and there, then spit and nuzzled elsewhere. All the while, those fingers touched and caressed, explored and traced my outline. At my navel, it stopped and the puckered sucker everted into a short tubular appendage that wiggled it’s way in, then out again. Slime flowed from it’s orifice as it sank in, and pooled in the hollow of my stomach. It bottomed out of course, and found no where else to go, then retreated back inside itself.

I began to understand then, not what it intended, but what it sought. More of my shirt was stripped away as easily as cobwebs and as deftly as a painter’s stroke. My breasts were exposed and explored. My body was lifted from the floor, and it slipped around behind to roam my back. I was little more than a toy, tossed about and examined. It sought a hole, a hole to enter, a deep hole. I started to hyperventilate.

The stench filled my senses, sweet sewage, rotting vegetable, and oily acrid undertones. I could taste the air on each rapid breath, rancid and overwhelming. The thing coiled higher, crushed in on my middle. It gave more than enough encouragement to my gorge. I projectile vomited helplessly, nausea I’d held back since the party could be held back no more. The far corner I’d cleaned only a short while ago, was stained again.

There was a side effect to my uncontrollable vomiting. Even while heaving up throat full after throat full… the monster rose further and sought the source of my evacuation. By the time I regained control over my insides, I found myself face to—face?—with the horror. Before me that sucker like pucker unfurled. A pair of vulvic lips parted pendulous in either direction, open. From within, a fleshy tube emerged, turned inside out, and more emerged. I screamed again as it plunged towards my face.

Had I only refrained, kept my mouth shut, perhaps… but the thought did not arise in time. I screamed, the protuberance entered my open mouth, the end of the worm splatted itself into my face, and the fingers closed around my head like a facehugger from that movie. Breath was drenched in acrid oily stench, panicked and fast. The tube extended deeper, across my teeth, across my tongue, all the while spilling something foul and sticky. I tried to spit as my tongue was thrust aside, and my teeth closed on hard cartilage. It did no good; the muscular lips closed over my mouth and held it like a seal as I was invaded.

I could see only a glimmer of light reflected in the pit of the worm’s end. All I could feel was my whole body being encased as it coiled higher. Slippery slime oozed across my skin, soaked into my hair, clothes, and crevices. My arms were pulled away into separate coils, my legs wrenched open, my head arched back. I was a puppet on coiled strings, helpless.

My tonsils were passed and my empty gut heaved as I began to gag again. I’d never managed to deep throat anyone, but I was given no choice here. Volumes of sludge poured down my throat as the monster forced it’s way inside. My navel felt strange, vaguely numb, but warm instead of icy. My tongue tingled and tasted coppery, and my lips throbbed, pinched to bruising. I heaved and heaved, but the only fluid was the monster’s sludge, and it went only one direction; down my throat.

The appendage stopped at last, past my lungs, but not much further. I gasped for air again, and was rewarded with a sickly horrific stench. All around me, the worm undulated and pulsed, in one very specific and very uncomfortable direction; up it’s body and toward my invaded throat. Nothing was released, not yet at least, but it was ominous. Moment by moment, my face numbed, tongue first, then outward. My teeth ached and my head felt hot and flush… but I could no longer feel the pinch of my lips or the muscular tube against my tongue. Taste faded as well, which was a blessing, and the warm numbness spread inward as well as outward.

There was a loud groan below the house, then a gush and splash as something new emerged from the sewer. A second fingered head probed and prodded at my legs for a moment, then began to shred my jeans as it worked it’s way up, under the first one. Another groan followed, then another as more of the monsters entered my ruined bathroom.

I wept with frustration, fear, and disgust. I screamed helplessly. I struggled in futile despair. A worm found my groin at last, and I howled. My jeans were completely destroyed, underwear demolished, and cold slimy fingers closed over my crotch. It gripped my thighs, and stomach tight while from within, a second tube emerged to kiss my bared labia and soak my pubic hair in numbing sludge. It forced itself between, forced itself inside, and raped my passage all the way to my cervix.

I hoped against hope that it would retreat once it had discovered the passage was too shallow. It did not. A pair of fingers slipped inside, sharp pointed and strong. They poked against my vulnerable barrier a few times, circled and caressed a few more. Then with a single jerk, stabbed. I felt myself tear, a violent gut cramping sensation followed by a wave of hot discomfort and pain. Blood flowed from me as the single digit forced it’s way up my cervix, ripping and splitting. Then came the second digit, it eviscerated me, opened my naked uterus to the muscular protuberance.

I felt abjectly defiled as sludge poured forth, cold and heating as it numbed. I felt a sensation I had imagined numerous times, with a fantasy of joy… I felt it enter my womb and press at my belly from the inside… Like a baby’s kick. I screamed again and bucked, but it was too late; my sacred fertile core had been invaded. That worm too began to pulsate.

I’d paid no attention to anything but my destroyed vagina for almost a minute. In that time, another two worms had explored my body. One was in the process of forcing my butt cheeks apart and nuzzling it’s slime spewing tube into my tight, virginal anus. I didn’t care; couldn’t care. I felt broken beyond all reason, as if I had lost something integral to being me. My anus tore, white hot pain shot up my spine. I only groaned with discomfort and continued to weep with self pity.

Minute by minute, my body went numb, until all I could feel was the heat, and the cold invasion. There was no touch, no friction, no stretching… and blissfully, no pain. Every time a splash of sludge poured into me, I felt it as a wave of cool against the disembodied heat that I had become. There was pleasure too, bone deep only, as my joints stretched and skeleton was bent and squeezed. It came not as pain, only an ache that felt all too pleasurable, like the edge of a climax where you have lost control of your motor functions.

Time had lost meaning… was it hours? Perhaps days or even weeks? I was just a cloud of warmth, invaded by cold, with that aching pleasure. There was a change, but I barely understood it. Sound, sound existed, but had been meaningless for so long. Squish, slosh, slurp, splatter. That was all I heard for the longest time. But the change… I heard a splut. Then another splut. With each splut was a bloom of icy chill in what had once been my chest. Another and another followed, then a long wet gush followed by another pair of spluts. Twenty four in all.

Not long after, I heard it again, different, farther away. Icy chill filled my womb and poured out of me. It went on and on until a loud snap sounded, and pelvis climaxed with the pleasure of pressure. I lost track of the number throughout that intense sensation. I couldn’t imagine what the crack had been, but gods had it felt wonderful.

My bowels too were filled, though I was lost to the sensation as it went on and on and on. Icy chill invaded my intestines. There were faint ripping sounds and the chill spread further. Warmth fought back, a futile attempt. At last, the first worm extracted itself from my face and throat. I saw it through hazy vision, unable to even look away or blink. Those twelve fingers curled inward as the orifice retracted. Slime, yellow-green and translucent, splattered free across my chest from it’s maw. It released me, and slithered beyond my vision. My head rolled to the side and I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Smeared in brown-green slime, eyes glistening, mouth gaped, green-yellow slime running like drool.. and I sat amongst a mound of writhing worms, each as big around as my thigh. Then my glimpse was gone as another worm latched on to my face and forced itself down my throat.

I endured, over and over and over. Hours, days, months, years… I had no sense of time. I could not even tell when I was awake or asleep. The spawning frenzy continued without clear lines between one worm and the next. But it did eventually end.

I woke to silence, to stillness, to agony. One of my legs was under my back, twisted at an impossible angle. The other was laying atop one of the broken pieces of toilet. I tried to look around, but nothing obeyed me. I was staring directly at the sewer pipe, and could imagine the last worm leaving, dragging me into place… but I had no memory of it.

The pain was everywhere, but most specifically, between my legs. My jaw hurt too of course, and my throat felt as if a horse had attempted to use it as a mare in heat. Bit by bit though my senses focused and I could comprehend what was wrong. My pelvis was shattered, leg dislocated to boot, and both vagina and anus had been torn so badly they were now a single passage. I could feel fluid leaking from one into the other; blood probably, but could be anything.

There was one other detail, one that was obvious on the face of it, but it took me the longest time to comprehend. My body was bloated to almost three times it’s normal size, packed solid with… with worm eggs. Oh gods, oh no no no… I panicked, helpless to even speak, just quick, wet breaths full of mucous and slime. Tears ran down my face, fluids leaked from my ruined holes, but control did not return to my flaccid muscles.

Time passed, hours for certain. I grew hungry. The gnawing at my gut was more than hunger though, it hurt—everywhere. There was no question though that hunger was a part of it. It was some time after that realization, that I heard something from the sewer below. A sucking sound came first, then a slosh, followed by a deep groan from the pipe shifting in the foundation. One of those horrific heads emerged, fingers opened, and it pressed itself to my body to explore. My ordeal wasn’t over.

The worm found my face and pressed lips to lips. The kiss became a french kiss, as it’s tubular tongue forced inside my maw with a foul splash, then down my throat. I wept helplessly, unable to sob or scream. Once the worm had extended fully and invaded me fully, it began to pulse and ripple. This time though, it was not hours wait, but only seconds before a bubbling splattery gush erupted in my chest, and sludge poured down into my waiting gut. Within minutes, the hunger pains passed, and the worm too, having evacuated itself inside of me.

Another worm came, and another. They didn’t seem to care which hole they used, which ever they found first, they pumped full of foul sludge. A dozen in all came to me, in rapid succession, then left me a little bit fuller. Then I slept the sleep of the damned, with nightmares worse than reality.

With each feeding, the numbness returned and soothed the agony, but every time I woke, the clear sharp agony had returned. My body was moved, shifted about by the feeding, but little care was given to my positioning. I woke the third day, to find myself staring at the mirror, my whole bloated body visible. I was unable to look away, unable to blink, unable to close my eyes. I bore witness to what they had done to me. My ribs broken, skin stretched and torn in places, bloody stretch marks. My stomach protruded grotesquely, and my chest faired little better. My pelvis was stretched apart, and a massive hunk of what looked like green-yellow snot gummed my gaped and ruined vulva. Torn it was, torn so wide you could have placed a bowling ball through the gap without touching.

Weeks or months, months or years; I laid on that bathroom floor for an eternity after the mating frenzy. An unending eon of helpless horror. An internal universe of mind numbing tedium intermixed with self pity and internal screams. If I could have—I would have killed myself, but I remained as immobile and broken as I had began. Then the true horror started. I felt the young worms as they hatched and began to squirm around, over, and through my organs. My flesh writhed and squirmed, more and more violent as more and more emerged. The horror though wasn’t truly realized, until the true birth began.

I thought it bad when they began to squirm their way up my throat by twos and threes. That was uncomfortable, disgusting, and gut heave worthy… but nothing until the first managed to eat it’s way through my stomach lining, muscle, and wriggle it’s way free of my split skin. More and more made their own exits, agony incarnate as things moved through my flesh and tore their way free.

It took a matter of hours before the last wretched spawn crawled it’s way from my broken vaginal passage, and slithered it’s way down into the sewer to join with it’s abominable family. I had difficulty thinking at that point, there were occasional blackouts and confused awakenings. Blood loss and probably organ failure I guessed. Then the worms returned, fat with eggs to place in their broken nest. I no longer cared, I probably wouldn’t live to see them born anyway.

It confused me greatly when the bathroom door opened. I thought it a dream, or another nightmare. Perhaps delusions due to blood poisoning or something. But my sister was there with a look of horror on her face. I wanted to laugh, blame her for this. If she hadn’t invited all those college football assholes, I wouldn’t have needed to plunge my toilet!

A worm rose before her, blocking my view of her face. Then it struck, like a viper biting. So fast, so exact. Fingers closed around her head and I witnessed the look of confusion in her eyes before they were concealed. The worm coiled, twisted, and writhed. She was dragged to the bathroom floor as it wound around her. I could hear her scream and cough. I could hear the wet gurgle as yellow-green sludge began to spew into her mouth. Soon she would be too numb to make a sound.

Another worm found her and began to force it’s way up her skirt and between her legs. I watched with almost joy as it thrust against her exposed vagina and… all twelve fingers at once, pushed inside, then pulled her open. She screamed again, and bucked violently. Then her pelvis cracked and the worm burrowed itself into her body cavity. Had that happened to me? I couldn’t remember.

The last I witnessed was the pulse of her bare belly as each egg was ejected inside. With each watery gush, and with each feculent splatter—she swelled. I endured it as well, of course, but I’d lost all sensation below my neck. I could hear the spluts, pops, and squelches from my own body as they raped me again… then at last it all faded to black…

Epilogue

A long time passed before the house was searched. The pair of women were found—dead of course—on a bathroom floor. The FBI agent who discovered their desiccated and devastated bodies, vomited on the spot. It was obvious though that there was no one to blame. The evidence was clear, they had been both raped beyond belief. No one however could even suggest a species; no human could have done what had endured.

The FBI left, the town settled, and—in time—forgot. It took a number of years for memories to be suppressed and friends to be forgotten. After all it had taken a decade to forget it the last time, seventy five years before. The next event would surely return in another similar span of time. It would coincide perfectly with a specific astronomical event, but it was unlikely the future citizens of that town would see the pattern then either.

End

Edited: 01/05/2018

10/04/2018

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