Beasts of the Moon
“Oh, my daughter had a small crescent moon birthmark on her left thigh. I used to tell her the goddess kissed her there…”
The words lance straight into me. A violent spasm seizes me. I lunge over the toilet, vomiting, my body shuddering. My heart splinters in my chest, beating like war drums.
Badoom. Badoom. Badoom.
My tongue unbinds. A scream rips out of me, raw, jagged. The word tears my throat open as I see Agnes’ face blur before my eyes:
“Mum!”
My body collapses, limp, the floor rushing up. Darkness swallows me whole. The last thing I see is Iris Herewit herself, stepping forward, smiling down at me.
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