Beasts of the Moon
Horror claws through me.
Suddenly heat sears my insides, as though my body is a furnace. My knees buckle. I grip the tub, gasping. My skin burns, alive with fire, stretching, tearing, as though another self claws from within.
Down the hall, Agnes’ voice carries faintly. My senses suddenly alert. Sharpened, hear her loud and clear.
“Oh, my daughter had a small crescent moon birthmark on her left thigh. I used to tell her the goddess kissed her there…”
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