The Library at Hellebore

by Cassandra Khaw

But we reside as well on a planet where the efficacy of medical science is questioned and media personalities argue whether a clot of cells has more value than a woman’s life.

The powerful never like letting go of such things.)

“Do you think some wasps have death cult suicide orgies—”

“I thought this was Botany,” said Rowan with considerable glee, patting himself down. “Not Vore 101. Don’t hate it, though. Keep going. It’s kinda hot.”

The scream was the baying of a cornered animal, it was the scream of someone who’d stared death in the eye and was now jonesing to break its neck.

I tried to laugh but hacked blood instead onto the collar of my shirt, taking an odd consolation in the fact there was no way to further despoil the damn thing: its original color was lost wherever our innocence had gone.