A Haunting on the Hill

by Elizabeth Hand

not cold like the autumn morning but hot with the carious reek of rotting gums and tongue. I see you too, it whispered.

turned toward them, smiling, and froze. A huge black hare stood upright in the kitchen doorway—far bigger than the ones I’d seen before. Its front legs were crooked like those of a praying mantis, its lips drawn back to reveal long white teeth and a red tongue. It stared at me fixedly, its coppery eyes twin suns in eclipse.