Spare Bedroom

by David

Maddy was asleep, a smile on her face. Cliff slid out of bed and padded, naked, to the hall. Curiosity always got the better of him in a new place, and most girls didn’t seem to mind. He had already seen every room of Maddy’s small apartment except the spare room. Maddy was … perplexing. Tall, dark, her face oddly proportioned, as if she had been made by someone who had had women described to him but who had never seen one. Different in bed too. Earlier he had felt like his entire body were about to explode. Afterwards he had patted himself down, just to make sure he was all there. Her décor…. Her books had never been opened, the TV was dusty. Only the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen had seen any use at all. He eased open the door of the spare bedroom and slipped inside. The only light came from the hall.

He took a few steps in, waiting for his eyes to adjust. There was not a sound except his own breathing, but he felt as if the room were crowded. This might have been a bad idea. The door closed with a snick and the light came on. Maddy pressed herself against him from behind, pinning his arms with hers. He was staring at a stone idol that almost brushed the ceiling. It sat with legs crossed and arms curved forward as if to catch whoever stood in front of it. Its teeth were large and sharp. Eight eyes, or, rather, empty sockets where they should be, seemed to stare right at him. Masks, censers, diverse weapons, and other paraphernalia lined the room, but he could spare no attention for it. The idol seemed to be flexing its muscles. Maddy was flexing hers too. She whispered in his ear.

“It’s me or the god,” she said. “Join me, worship him, or join him a different way.” She turned him around and stared into his eyes. “Choose.”

“You’re freaking me out.” He pulled back and she let him go.

“Goodbye Cliff,” she said sadly.

“Wait.” He licked his lips. Rough hands seized his shoulders. The nails were sharp and long.

End

The Pasha’s Panda

by Daniel Braum

Maleek knew the safe thing to do was to turn himself into a cobra and get out of there before the Chinese soldiers arrived. The Pasha was dead and the Red Army soldiers had taken over the sook and probably all of Marrakech. It was only a matter of time before they found their way into the Pasha’s riad.

The Pasha’s panda sat against the sea blue courtyard wall nestled between two giant potted bamboo plants, chewing the elegant green stems uncaring or unknowing of the turmoil happening not very far away. All of the animals, even the parrots and monkeys, were calm. Maleek wondered if they were real. It mattered not. The Panda was non-synthetic, the cobra in him told him so. Never mind the squads of soldiers tearing the city up looking for it.

The Pasha bought his armaments from the Chinese. Patrol-bots. All the flavors of smart-side arms for his guards. A few tanks and vehicles for parades and affairs of state. The Pasha, or more accurately his primary wife (a newer series Cleopatra consort he acquired in the aftermath of the fall of Egypt), fancied herself an enlightened zookeeper. Her head was full of all sorts of autonomous mods and thus the medina was full of all sorts of exotic animals both caged and free roaming. Maleek had once seen a family of raccoons and gray ground squirrels from the Americas. On hungry days, the cobra in him lusted for them.

The Pasha’s mistake was giving into his wife’s whimsy to acquire the real panda. He should have returned the crate as soon as the arms dealer offered it. China needed panda parts, real panda parts- they always needed real panda parts and this one hadn’t escaped their notice for long.

Maleek looked at it. A study of black and white resting peacefully and chewing softly in the afternoon sun. How long until it ended up in a Beijing vat farm? Animals deserved to be wild. Or kept in comfort and style as was the custom of the Pasha’s wife. Except for the cobra in him. He had fought so hard to keep it locked down.

Boot stomps echoed in the labyrinthine maze of passages leading to the Pasha’s riad. Maleek let himself go. He felt the skin on his neck transform into black scale. Even now the panda chewed blissfully unaware of what was to come. He hated becoming the cobra. But he hated what the Red’s did with the vats even more.

Maleek’s teeth became fangs coursing with poison. He knew the cobra would not be caged again so easily. Still, he sunk his teeth deep into the Panda’s soft skin. The soldiers were upon them. The sook was in chaos. Perhaps he would not have to cage the snake so soon.

– END –