Wednesday, September 22, 2010

She just kept screaming. If she kept screaming, someone would hear her, or the home owners would come out and tell her to shut up. Then they'd see.

So she kept screaming, as her boyfriend was eaten, sloppily, nauseatingly, next to her.

It was so nice out, they'd decided to go for a walk after dinner. They were walking when the guy in the trench coat had walked up behind them and coughed.

"Dude," her boyfriend said, and turned to the guy behind them. "Cover your mouth when you cough." To illustrate his point, Jeremy put his hand to his neck and showed it to the guy. She saw his hand, though, and it wasn't cough guck. It was blood.

The trench coat man pushed her boyfriend, Jeremy, down then pulled him up, and his mouth had done something she couldn't explain and Jeremy started screaming and squirmed out of his shirt and grabbed her hand, then they were running.

And now, they were here, mostly naked, twitching as cars drove by and the thing gobsmacked her boyfriend's last limbs.