The Body Flicker Novels & Stories

The image that had formed from nothing was one of me, crying hard, and sobbing and there were two holes in my neck, two bloody holes. The image became solid with each passing second and, in a minute, it felt like I could actually touch it. I scampered away on the floor, going as far from it as I could, and then it began to flicker like a broken video game or a video game with a problem. I could also liken it to the white and black TV with those lines flickering around it in Elias’ room. It was all very horrible. It looked solid like a real body but still managed to give that sensation that it was just on a screen, and then another one started to form, close to me, and I screamed, immediately

It was a flood. Light—white‑gold, too bright to be entirely visible—flared around my fingers, seeping under his skin like sunlight poured into ink. Lucian’s body shuddered. The growl cut off mid‑sound. For a terrifying fraction of a second, his eyes went completely dark—black swallowing everything. Then they flickered. Black. Gold. Black. Gold. The dark retreated in stuttering jerks, like something being dragged away by a chain. His pupils constricted.

Yeah, Flick is a whole damn category on his own. Soon I’m already in my white costume with bold makeup, slow music starts, and I step out to the pole. My thoughts instantly shut off from the outside world, and I give myself to what I love. There’s only me, the pole, and the music. Nothing else matters… nothing. No problems, no guilt, no pain. This is my personal nirvana, my meditation, my protective cocoon from reality.

“You’re going to make me ask what that means.” “No,” he said, and the smile widened slightly. “I’m going to let you find out.” I looked at him and read nothing useful in his face and turned back toward the room. Franklin was on the floor. Not the controlled position of someone who had chosen to sit or crouch. The floor, flat, with the boneless quality of someone whose body had stopped taking instructions. He was shaking… not the trembling of cold or fear but the deep, systemic shaking of something happening at a level below voluntary function, his whole body involved in it, his hands flat on the floor and lit from within, the mark having spread in the minutes since I last looked at it.

Too awake. The body folded forward without thinking. Fingers dug into the edge of the bed. Breathing turned shallow as wave after wave rolled through muscle and bone. The baby... The thought barely formed before the truth became clear. The pain wasn’t there. It wasn’t coming from my womb. It was everywhere else. As if my body was changing into something new. Something other. The lights above flickered. Once. Then again. Then they burned brighter than before. The concrete walls seemed to throb, faintly, like they were breathing.

As soon as I do, I realize my unintended gesture. “Hey!” Her smile grows. Quickly, I wiggle all five fingers, waving as I step out of the room. Opening the door to the stage, I’m met with the rush of cool air and at the same time, the heat of stage lights. It’s a strange combination causing goose bumps and perspiration to materialize simultaneously. Wiping my brow while shivering, I’m now thinking about each possible piece of lingerie and how these lights and cool air will accentuate the models’ attributes that won’t be hidden with glue.