by Angela Slatter
The child was dead by the time I found her, but she suited my purposes perfectly.
Tiny delicate skin suit, meat sack, air thief.
The flesh was still warm, which is best—too hard to shrug on something in full rigor—and I crammed my bulk into the small body much as one might climb into a box or trunk to hide. A fold here, a dislocation there, a twinge of discomfort and curses when something tore, stretched just too far.
The rent was in the webbing of the right hand. Only a little rip, no matter. The sinister manus was my favoured choice of weapon anyway. I sat up, rolled my new shoulders—gently, carefully—then stood, rocking back slightly on legs too tender, too young to support my leviathan weight. I took a step, felt the world tilt, caught my balance before I fell and risked another tear; looked down at the single pink shoe, with its bows and glitter detail; took in the strange white cat face that ran around the hem of the pink and white dress; rubbed my miniature fingers against the dried brown stains that blotched the insides of my thighs.
The child had died hard.
The sliver of me that retained empathy ached, just a bit. But I could smell the scent of the one who’d done this and I would follow that scent. The hunt was on, my blood was up. Time was of the essence—my presence will speed decay. I pitched my head up so my nostrils caught the evening breeze and breathed deeply, filling my borrowed lungs, so the memory would remain.
Again, I took a step, more, all steady.
About the Author
Angela’s debut novel, Vigil, was released by Jo Fletcher Books in 2016, and the sequels Corpselight and Restoration will follow in 2017 and 2018 respectively. She is the author of eight short story collections, including The Girl with No Hands and Other Tales, Sourdough and Other Stories, The Bitterwood Bible and Other Recountings, Winter Children and Other Chilling Tales and A Feast of Sorrows: Stories. Her work has been adapted for the screen, and translated into Japanese, Russian, and Bulgarian. Angela has won a World Fantasy Award, a British Fantasy Award, one Ditmar Award, and five Aurealis Awards.
About the Narrator
Victoria Winnick is a writer, editor, and chef, living in Calgary, Alberta. She’s been an Associate Editor with Pseudopod since the aughts, has written educational books for children, and her magazine writing has covered everything from the ins and outs (so to speak) of the adult film industry to jumping fences with punk bands. You can hear her own contributions to the podcast on episodes 467 and 532, and if you’re a fan of roleplaying games or compassionate anarchy, you can follow her blog at lady-luminoth.tumblr.com.