Zippered Flesh 2: More Tales of Body Enhancements Gone Bad Read Online Free
Author: Kealan Patrick Burke, Charles Colyott, Bryan Hall, Shaun Jeffrey, Michael Bailey, Lisa Mannetti, Shaun Meeks, L.L. Soares, Christian A. Larsen
and oozed like a massive lava lamp designed to defy the laws of physics.
It was more than a color show, however. Behind the nebulas and vortexes there was something else. Something organic. Huge.
The sliding shapes made it impossible to see it all at once, and as each part appeared it seemed to recede, then return, closer then further away, here then gone, obscured then revealed.
It squirmed and writhed, a single body made up from many.
Snouts and fangs, claw and tentacle. Hair and scale, skin and slime.
Legion.
Glory.
Alpha and Omega.
The old man’s screams cut through the din and his body snapped backward, nearly folded in half. It rose up off the floor, suspended by some unseen force, and then began to spasm.
He fell to pieces. His skin and tissue came off in chunks, tendons popping and veins drooping like ropes of spaghetti. Organs shook free from their mortal imprisonment, a kidney here, a liver there. Bones splintered and shattered into powder and fragments. The blood rained a crimson monsoon, but not a drop of it reached the floor. Nothing did. Each atom of his being was sucked up into the nightmare kaleidoscope above. Each bit of flesh that found freedom from the old man’s body was absorbed into its new home in that fabulous beyond.
The sacrifice claimed, the infinite being became harder to spot. The nebulas spread, blotting out the view and turning the ceiling into a rippling, black pool.
From that impossible surface salvation began to flow. A stream of black liquid dribbled from the ceiling into the funnel and rolled down into the syringe waiting below.
The blackness shuddered, the liquid slowed to a drip, and then the world righted itself.
Mark turned off the machine, bowed his head in some kind of prayer, and then took the syringe, reinserting the plunger before he left the room.
My ears popped; the dizzy-sick feeling subsided. But my mind and body were coursing with adrenaline. With excitement.
I’d witnessed a miracle. In fact, I was a part of that miracle. It coursed in my veins. Beat inside my heart.
But I could have more.
Two hundred sixty-five? It was a fool’s dream when there was so much more potential to be tapped here.
The path to perfection lay before me.
I had only to follow it.
The woman left five minutes later, a smile stretched across her face and a syringe of perfection in her hand.
The lights inside went out fifteen minutes later.
I waited an hour to make sure he was asleep. It was hard to be patient, but necessary. He’d already said that he didn’t sleep much. Which meant he was probably in there somewhere, awake. Staring at the walls. Thinking of the miracle he had dominion over.
The door was the problem. He locked it. Windows, too. It’s a habit that everyone has, but the fact is that if someone wants inside your house, they’ll get in.
And I wanted in pale, sickly looking Mark’s house.
I opted for the window in his office. I knew I was strong enough to kick in the door no matter what type of lock was on it. But the noise would be tremendous. There would be no questioning what he’d heard. With the window, there would still be a lingering “what if” in his mind. A hesitation. A doubt.
And I needed him to have that tiny doubt.
I wrapped my hand in my shirt and punched through the glass, then undid the lock, climbed into the room, and hurried across to the door. It took no more than thirty seconds, but before I’d reached my post I heard soft footsteps and saw distant light spill beneath the door into the office.
The next minutes stretched into hours. I heard him in the hallway; saw his shadow dance in the glow on the floor. Heard the doorknob twist and watched as the door swung open. It stopped inches from me, concealing me behind it.
Through the crack in the door, I watched him enter the office slowly, the gun out in front of him as if he were clutching a cross before a vampire’s attack. I waited for him to switch on the light, to step into the
It was more than a color show, however. Behind the nebulas and vortexes there was something else. Something organic. Huge.
The sliding shapes made it impossible to see it all at once, and as each part appeared it seemed to recede, then return, closer then further away, here then gone, obscured then revealed.
It squirmed and writhed, a single body made up from many.
Snouts and fangs, claw and tentacle. Hair and scale, skin and slime.
Legion.
Glory.
Alpha and Omega.
The old man’s screams cut through the din and his body snapped backward, nearly folded in half. It rose up off the floor, suspended by some unseen force, and then began to spasm.
He fell to pieces. His skin and tissue came off in chunks, tendons popping and veins drooping like ropes of spaghetti. Organs shook free from their mortal imprisonment, a kidney here, a liver there. Bones splintered and shattered into powder and fragments. The blood rained a crimson monsoon, but not a drop of it reached the floor. Nothing did. Each atom of his being was sucked up into the nightmare kaleidoscope above. Each bit of flesh that found freedom from the old man’s body was absorbed into its new home in that fabulous beyond.
The sacrifice claimed, the infinite being became harder to spot. The nebulas spread, blotting out the view and turning the ceiling into a rippling, black pool.
From that impossible surface salvation began to flow. A stream of black liquid dribbled from the ceiling into the funnel and rolled down into the syringe waiting below.
The blackness shuddered, the liquid slowed to a drip, and then the world righted itself.
Mark turned off the machine, bowed his head in some kind of prayer, and then took the syringe, reinserting the plunger before he left the room.
My ears popped; the dizzy-sick feeling subsided. But my mind and body were coursing with adrenaline. With excitement.
I’d witnessed a miracle. In fact, I was a part of that miracle. It coursed in my veins. Beat inside my heart.
But I could have more.
Two hundred sixty-five? It was a fool’s dream when there was so much more potential to be tapped here.
The path to perfection lay before me.
I had only to follow it.
The woman left five minutes later, a smile stretched across her face and a syringe of perfection in her hand.
The lights inside went out fifteen minutes later.
I waited an hour to make sure he was asleep. It was hard to be patient, but necessary. He’d already said that he didn’t sleep much. Which meant he was probably in there somewhere, awake. Staring at the walls. Thinking of the miracle he had dominion over.
The door was the problem. He locked it. Windows, too. It’s a habit that everyone has, but the fact is that if someone wants inside your house, they’ll get in.
And I wanted in pale, sickly looking Mark’s house.
I opted for the window in his office. I knew I was strong enough to kick in the door no matter what type of lock was on it. But the noise would be tremendous. There would be no questioning what he’d heard. With the window, there would still be a lingering “what if” in his mind. A hesitation. A doubt.
And I needed him to have that tiny doubt.
I wrapped my hand in my shirt and punched through the glass, then undid the lock, climbed into the room, and hurried across to the door. It took no more than thirty seconds, but before I’d reached my post I heard soft footsteps and saw distant light spill beneath the door into the office.
The next minutes stretched into hours. I heard him in the hallway; saw his shadow dance in the glow on the floor. Heard the doorknob twist and watched as the door swung open. It stopped inches from me, concealing me behind it.
Through the crack in the door, I watched him enter the office slowly, the gun out in front of him as if he were clutching a cross before a vampire’s attack. I waited for him to switch on the light, to step into the
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