Melt
An afternoon of hair and makeup work is running down my body. I feel fire in my veins and brimstone in the air and I could go all night. I’ve been in this club for probably an hour now, my first time here. I followed Ada. Her muscles flex, her skin shines under the lights, eyes looking at things I cannot see. Venom fills me. I want her to look at me, see how much work I've done to keep up with her. I sway my hips and legs like I’ve seen from the videos, gyrating as I practiced before my mirror. My limbs are loose, free. I feel so free, more than I ever have before. I feel hotter than I did in front of the mirror. So hot. So hot. Why isn’t Ada looking at me?
He coughs, spittle falling onto the shrooms and dirt. I can’t tell if the musk is him or the playground. “You can’t afford me, ” says the warlock, “I can smell it.” His teeth are clean, his body is clean. He rides the swingset without anything on him, not even the dirt sticks to him.
“We’re good for it.” says Ada. Her shaking hand grabs mine and my heart jumps. “Her parents are loaded, they can pay you back.” The warlock's eyes are staring pits which swallow my vision. I nod, a few times.
“Fucking sick, I’ll pay child support with promises.” The moon is full and low and young, it’s light showing how bones jut against his pure, clean skin, reveals the silver wiring of his veins. The afternoon humidity lingers, and Ada’s sweat warms my palm. “Show me your tits.” he whines.
“No...no!” I stutter. “Fuck off!” I cover my chest. The dress that made me feel so sexy now left me feeling exposed.
“I’ll do it,” says Ada. I felt a silent scream run through my brain.
“No, your girlfriend. I want to see what else her parents gave her.”
“You’re a cunt!” I yell. The warlock’s coughs morph into forced laughs, which morphs into the metal squeak of the swingset.
“Do it.” Ada whispers to me. “Please. Please.” I nudge my elbow into her. I try to stop my face looking as shit as I feel. “It’s just boobs. It’s nothing.”
Chains jangle and feet hit dirt. The warlock stops swinging, looking right through me.
“If you don’t do this for me I’m leaving you,” says Ada.
I didn’t have a choice.
“Ada!” I scream, “Ada, ADA!” She’s dancing through the sea of skin, bodies parting to let us through. Her tight skirt and halter top ghost through the crowd, unhindered by gravity or bodies. I slither past the dancers, bending and contorting through them. Nothing can touch me, nothing can move as fast or as flexibly as I can. I feel so alive. “ADA!” I bellow, louder than the music itself. Then I stop moving.
“Fuck off!” screams a girl I’ve crashed into. My body is bent around her, like a car wrapped around a pole. “Fuck off fuck off fuck off.” She tries to push me off her, my her fingers molding into my arm. The girl next to her, bright against the strobe lights, is grabbing at my serpent limbs. Part of my hand comes off in their grip. I watch it being taken from me, and the looks on their faces. I feel nothing.
His pale mass looms. The darkness suffocates us as we kneel. Ada can barely hold herself back when we hear the first drips. I don’t know which of us I’m more ashamed of. Dripping is only noise at the playground, and the scent begins to fill our heads. He walks over us, above us. His arms are peeled.
“Drink.” he commands, and the blood falls onto us. It’s electric sludge slips through our pores, into our bodies, and energy and joy follows it. Peace fills me. I see Ada, she’s smiling so wide. “You,” I hear his voice. “You deserve a reward.” I cannot see through the waterfall of blood
I feel a sharpness above my chest, and I feel something sliver into me. I shudder. I scream. And then I see everything so clearly, even through the crimson.
I watch myself being dragged along the ground by security. I raise my last hand to them, molten flesh dripping from my bones, and they don’t respond. What about Ada, I wonder. I try to say that, but I just watch teeth falling from my mouth, hear tired air evacuating my throat. I see rainbows in my eyes, and I see streaks of red leaving my body, slithering away like fat worms through the club entrance. I scream, yet nothing comes out. My ears are blocked with their own flesh. My eyes, only my eyes, remain solid.
I see Ada walking towards me, solid and perfect. I’m outside, in a gutter. Spilt alcohol and street liquids mix with my transublimated body. She kneels down to me, touches my flesh-blood. She bathes in me.
I am happy.
Fiction story by Amanda Hubert
This article appeared in the The Gavel #1 ‘The Among Us Issue’ (2021) Publication