11-27-2017, 10:51 PM
Babadook
“Get the fuck off me, worm!” Her words sting into his soft, childish mind and he flinches instinctively away from her. He knew what would come after her words. Quickly following the closing of her thin lips, her neck swings around to push him against the tree they were sheltering under. The rough bark scratches against his soft flanks, opening up more cuts and deepening more bruises along his skeletal body.
A cry bleats from his lips at the pain that blossoms along his side (though there is the sob of a child in desire of love hidden among it as well). His mother pulls away from him, her ears pinning and her tail flicking dangerously. “God, I never should have slept with him.” He can hear her mumbling under her breath, but his stomach growls ferociously. All he wants is to eat from her supple tit — he can see and smell the nutritious milk beading at the tip — and he inches closer to her brooding side.
“You little shit!” She’s screaming now. He scrambles away, smoky legs rushing to hide in the shadows before her teeth reach out to pinch his skin roughly. “Go find some friends to play with before I bash your head i” — her voice fades away as he runs, stumbling through the thick swathes of the forest they call home.
He can feel the blood dripping down his shoulder and the bumpy scratches where the tree bit him feel as though a bee has stung him. He stops running when his long, gangly legs start to wobble. He’s still young, only a few months old, and yet he has been through more hell than most.
His smoky silver body collapses to the ground in a heap and he chokes on a bubbling sob.
A cry bleats from his lips at the pain that blossoms along his side (though there is the sob of a child in desire of love hidden among it as well). His mother pulls away from him, her ears pinning and her tail flicking dangerously. “God, I never should have slept with him.” He can hear her mumbling under her breath, but his stomach growls ferociously. All he wants is to eat from her supple tit — he can see and smell the nutritious milk beading at the tip — and he inches closer to her brooding side.
“You little shit!” She’s screaming now. He scrambles away, smoky legs rushing to hide in the shadows before her teeth reach out to pinch his skin roughly. “Go find some friends to play with before I bash your head i” — her voice fades away as he runs, stumbling through the thick swathes of the forest they call home.
He can feel the blood dripping down his shoulder and the bumpy scratches where the tree bit him feel as though a bee has stung him. He stops running when his long, gangly legs start to wobble. He’s still young, only a few months old, and yet he has been through more hell than most.
His smoky silver body collapses to the ground in a heap and he chokes on a bubbling sob.