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danielcain · 2 months

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Monique Ligons’ Biblical Insectarium

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danielcain · 2 months

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Russian ID photos.

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danielcain · 3 months

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my dealer: got some straight gas 🔥😫 this strain is called “carcosa” 😳 you’ll be zonked out of your gourd 💯

me: yeah whatever I don’t feel shit

5 mins later: dude I swear everything that’s going to happen has happened

my buddy rust, pacing: this is all just a dream inside a locked room, a dream about being a person

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danielcain · 6 months

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草トカゲ

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danielcain · 6 months

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danielcain · 6 months

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Ripe

In retrospect, I should have gotten fitted in-person for a pair of rubber boots. Ordering shoes online is always a crapshoot. The ones I had on were too big, they just collected water like a rain barrel and waterlogged my socks.

The texture was horrible. A disgusting sensation.

The foyer’s carpet squelched with every step I took. It didn’t help that I was carrying 120 pounds of dead woman.

“This always happens during the honeymoon phase,” said my friend Dan.

“You won’t want to leave the house. You’ll want to be with her all the time. The modern age enables this. Work from home, order from home, live from home, die from home…” He began to rant about how modernity. He always goes there, and I always tune him out. He married a female cop from the sheriff’s department. She came off gay when I met her. Funny.

I‘ve tried to explain my marital problems to Dan before. I had to leave out a few key details. I told him my wife was depressed, in bed all day, not contributing financially. He said wives “tend to do that” and that I make enough money, anyway. Not quite the issue.

The trouble was harder to explain; I’ve only been married to Liana for six months, and she’s killed and replanted herself seven times.

I trudged up the staircase in the loose boots. The way I carried her, the soil from her body fell before us, laying a trail like rose petals.

Creaking wood drummed up anxiety in my chest. I am not a large man. I usually make but a negligible amount of noise when I move throughout the house. That’s something she commented on when we first moved in. The word she used was unobtrusive. She liked this about me. She said we had that in common. In a lot of ways, we really were alike.

Unlike me, her cells interlocked with tightly-woven cellulose walls. She had organelles not found in over 99% of human beings: chloroplasts. When I first met her, her skin had a milky green hue. The first time I touched her, I balked. She was not hot to the touch like others. Not cold, but not hot. Her breasts, thighs, cheeks… remarkably, they had the tautness of an unripe vegetable.

I laid her down in the bathtub. The plumbing was sensitive, not terrible, but sensitive. An old house. Wood and cobblestone on the outside. Folksy, I’m told through clenched smiles of guests trying to be complimentary. Yeah, right. It looks better suited to house a coven of child-stealing hags. I tried to fix it up, stay on trend. Liana convinced me not to hire contractors. She convinced me to buy, too. “I’ve always wanted a house in the woods…”

Now I know why.

The replanting process is nothing short of a natural miracle. I will be the first to admit, it attracted me to her further. Liana could change herself at will. All it took was a little patience, two days of waiting, a 6 foot deep ditch in the backyard, some sleeping pills and vodka. I didn’t understand the science of it at first. What exactly she needed to do to push out the roots and reform her mass. When I finally found out, I was too embarrassed to admit I didn’t know she had to physically die each time.

She was always shy about the details, embarrassed, like it was some sort of bowel syndrome. I did not press her for details, but as her husband, I should’ve researched the condition. I did eventually. But not before telling her she would look good blonde. Telling her she would look even hotter upping her bra size by a letter or two…

She started to wake up.

First, the rattle. A great exhalation and inhalation. It always took me by surprise. Her facial muscles were always the second thing reanimate. Her nose twitched. Her eyes opened. They looked so dry. Matte. “Liana. This is getting dangerous.”

A couple seconds’ delay. Then, she smiled mawkishly. During this stage of regrowth, her skin is taut and verdant like the day I met her. (I once called her belle pepper as a pet name. She either didn’t get the pun, maybe.) With every hour, she begins to flush to her desired shade. She switches it up from time to time, never too dark or too white for most to notice, but I do. She carries Pantone swatches in her wallet.

She moved her lips, but couldn’t speak yet. I said nothing further. I picked up the detachable showerhead. The gentlest setting. I rinsed her body, avoiding the tender roots that twitched and protruded from the tips of her fingers and toes. I read somewhere that touching them at this stage feels like a pressing on a pinched nerve.

“I know why thish bophers you shoo much,” she gurgled, throat half-asleep. Her mouth was filled with soil and rainwater. It seeped from her firm, bloated lips.

I turned away. Washing her feet. She continued, most of the earth and excess sap that gagged her having dribbled onto her nightie.

“You like me like thish.”

I averted my eyes. I continued to bathe her, and stared at the peel-and-stick mauve tile accent above the tub. I had put it there the previous month to cover a stubborn decomposition stain.

“I like you all the time, Liana.” It felt like someone was slowly lacing my throat shut from the inside.

I didn’t have to look at her to know she was smiling.

“Buh you like… thish.”

#necronomicon #part 2 cooking up

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danielcain · 6 months

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hi every body i am going to also use this blog to post short stories / drabbles of the cosmic horror, body horror, magical realism, prose, parody, and possibly erotic persuasion, since all those genres are often the same thing. nothing will be tagged or warned i don’t want it to be like a ns/fw blog i will just block anyone sus and minors go away. some of this stuff will be episodic and posted in chunks of vignettes and if it becomes a series, navigate me by tag and then compiled when done. Ok bye

#necronomicon #<- tag for this

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danielcain · 9 months

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