Entity

by Meg Smitherman

“Ah,” Ian says, sidling over to the open door. He shoots me a tense smile as he pulls the door closed and locks it with a quickly typed code. “Ignore that. A prototype. Very new. Unpredictable. Disobedient.”

Thats suspicious......thats weird

“No. Never. Eros delivers. He always delivers what he’s programmed to do.” Ian’s expression turns strangely cold. “No surprises.”

Eros nods. “Yes, Ian. You wouldn’t like him, Kit.” But I think I almost see hesitancy in Eros’s expression, a stiffness in his jaw that wasn’t there before.

“Don’t trust him,” Eros repeats. “Don’t fucking trust who?” I splutter, my voice high-pitched. A tear slides down Eros’s stricken, pain-contorted face. “Don’t. Don’t.”

And even Ian’s handwriting can’t obscure the two words that stare back at me: Katherine Fox. A slow trickle of dread drips down my spine. Because that’s not all. Below my name, in even smaller print, there are four more words: He insists on her. I read the note again. And again. What the fuck?

yeah girl i agree what the fuck

“This body is a machine,” he replies, leaning over me, his lips almost brushing mine. “But I am not this body. I merely use it.”

i’m sorry what

My body is — is glitching. Parts of it shimmer in and out. It’s fuzzy at the edges, like an old television, lines of static running through me. It’s like the mirage from before, but it’s part of me this time. I’m the mirage. I gasp in horror.

“Orpheus? Were you going to eat Ian?” “Yes.” The floor falls out from under me. “You eat… people.” “I consume life,” he says. “Vivacity. Souls.”

😮😮😮

Orpheus turns to me, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them. And I hate that I don’t hate him, that I’m still drawn to him, monstrous as he is. That he feels like home. “Well?” I prompt, jerking my head toward Ian. “Finish him off.”