Sunday 7 February 2010

Plum

The juices of the plum dripped down Serina's face, so that she looked more animal than human. Her first meal since discovering the plum tree, she gorged herself. Cramps pulled and jabbed at her stomach, a sure sign that she would soon lose half the meal, but her hunger spurred her on.

Eat. Live. Eat. For the next meal might be far off.

A noise, from the woods close by. Footsteps? She turned to spot something tiny, no bigger than a squirrel or a cat. A glimpse of brown fur and a huge, fuzzy tail.

Squirrel.

The creature scampered closer, chittering and flicking its tail. My plums, no doubt the warning it tried to pass along to Serina. Get your stinking human paws off my tree.

But Serina would not be stalled by a creature as insignificant as a squirrel. A part of her hoped that with a quick jab, she might be eating squirrel stew in a few hours.

Then the little fuzz ball jumped high, taking Serina off guard, and dug its teeth into the flesh above her belt. She batted at it, pain numbing her senses, trying to ward off the beast.

To her horror, the creature had ripped her open, a wound at least ten centimetres in length. Had its teeth been replaced with razors?

She reached for her belly, trying to hold in what used to be on the other side of her skin, where organs belong. The last thing she remembered, before she passed out was the slash of its claws along the tender flesh of her inner wrist.

With a blink, her world faded and the squirrel screeched in victory.

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