Issue Three

LAUREN HASTY
Every time he moved, she could hear
the grass dying, the beetles scurrying,
the universe falling apart. This was what
entropy looked like - like a vast beast,
languid in its repose. Tigers look the
same way.
"Where do you come from?" she asked,
the thin, aristocratic line of her mouth
sensual in its strictness - perhaps
sensual because of that strictness.
One of his ears flicked. Overhead, a
leaf separated from its branch, starting
to fall to the ground. "You ask 'where',
as if there were a particular place that I
am from. If that is your mentality, we
should stop this now. You will never
learn."
Eyes as blue as deep holes in oceans
ticked towards the leaf, then back to
him. "You had to have come from
somewhere," she observed, the pad of
her thumb rubbing against the soft
underside of her fingers. "Beings - even
beings like you - don't just spring up out
of nowhere."
Before her, he chuckled quietly; it was a
rolling sound, avalanches and landslides
giving way. Smoke poured from his
mouth, little licks of fire teasing exposed
teeth.
"Why not, girlchild? Why can beasts
such as I not merely spring into
existence? As a child, did you have a
toy, an imaginary friend; something that
you believed with all your being was
real? As you grew older, did you not
sweep childish things away from you?"
Her brows drew a moment, for what he
suggested...well, yes. She had had a
doll, but - "Are you saying someone
thought you up?"
His sides heaved a moment, clawed
fingers flexing in the rot-soft dirt. Hadn't
they been hooves a moment ago? "Yes
and no," he answered, infuriatingly
enigmatic. "That is...someones thought
me up."
For a second, his head tipped upwards;
hundreds, thousands of razor sharp
tines lifted towards the sky. To her
eyes, it seemed as if he could cut it
open with those antlers.
"Have you ever seen a shooting star?"
he asked. "Have you ever briefly
wondered what they are? Where they
come from?" His body shifted, vast
mass crawling upwards in unnatural
fashion, like a beast with no legs, vipers
to offer apples to the innocent. It was
mesmerizing. She did not entirely
realize that not only had he stood, but
was crawling her way, belly low as the
dog asking for trust; belying true nature.
"That is where I am from," he purred, the
snakes and worms pouring out of the
volcanic pit of his mouth. "I am from
where the stars die, child."