The Novella Life of Illuscia Nester Himawari

  I Through my peephole, I saw that it was still there. The flayed skin glistened under the dim glow of the hanging incandescent lightbulb. It knew I was watching and came close until the peephole framed only its visage. The conjoined faces of my neighbors stared into me, with mouths that might’ve been kissing once, it grinned or tried to. Their tongues had fused to become fat and forked and it now used to lick at the glass of my peephole. It pulls back without warning and once more I get a good look at it. Two human forms smashed together. The smaller one clinging to the larger one’s torso, resembling a gibbon and her young but distorted into something fleshy and vile. I can see the sinew of its exposed muscles, the blood vessels, and the flaps of flesh that hang off it. I can see the hanging skinned testicles on the larger body and can see that the clinging body grinds itself into him where their groins meet. But whether it’s in agony or ecstasy I can’t tell. It runs o

  I never thought that dying would save my life. But then death has always been a funny son-of-a-bitch. Three weeks ago I made an appointment to see my regular doctor about an annoying cough that wouldn’t go away. It got so bad I swore that Gary, the guy who sat in the cubicle next to me at work, wanted to strangle me with my own phone cord. But I didn’t like him much, either, so I considered us even. I walked into my doctor’s office figuring I’d gotten myself another case of Bronchitis. I expected to walk out in five minutes with a prescription for the good cough medicine that makes me feel all warm and squishy as I drift off in front of the TV. She insisted on an x-ray, though, so I humored her, figuring I didn’t have much choice if I wanted to walk out with that precious slip of paper. “They say the quickest way to a man’s heart is with radiation,” I joked, and she laughed her way out of the room. But when she walked in a little later, with the developed x-ray in hand,

  Nothing but raw meat for months now. Though, that’s not the worst part. No, that’s the bones and the teeth…they cut your throat on the way down. I’m sick to my stomach all the time, but I can’t vomit. Day in and day out…it’s always the same. The chasing, the screaming, the inevitable silence…then only punctuated by the squelching of our mouths masticating flesh. I see it in the other’s eyes too, we’re all disgusted with ourselves. Some still weep while they chew…I got over that weeks ago. Before I was bitten, I did everything in my power to stay alive. Kept my wife and I locked up safe in the basement. We survived the initial wave, but eventually ran out of food, and I needed to go out for supplies. They snuck up on me in the supermarket. Having found a few cans of beans, I was so excited that I let my guard down…just for a second. Once I felt the teeth sink into my arm, I knew it was over. 100% infection rate, no cure, no immunity…I’d told

The house stood amongst the trees like an open sore, a condemned heap of lumber and tattered shingles that was dwarfed by the forest surrounding it. The structure begged to be demolished, and the wildlife looked ready to reclaim it at a moment's notice. The longer I looked at it, the more I wondered if I was at the wrong address. My watch beeped and I lowered the binoculars, feeling the chilly air nip at the back of my neck. It had just turned ten o’clock, but lying in the weeds it felt like three in the morning. The moon couldn’t seem to get a word in through the clouds, and the house itself seemed to radiate its own perpetual darkness. Even from across the street, the house felt wrong. I got off my stomach and crouched in the grass, chewing my lip. My gut urged me to go home, and I thought of my car, parked on the agricultural road about a hundred yards away. I could just leave and forget about this place, forget it even existed. Just the thou