Body Vorror

part two of this

"Don't have to answer me right this second, Emily. Just pull me up." Carla requested. Emily obliged.

"Have any idea if we can get out?" Emily asked, nervous. "Security's already left. Doors are locked."

"They open fine from the inside," Carla said glibly, rolling her shoulders. "If that's what you're asking."

Emily huffed. "Oh." She'd save her real objections for the walk to Carla's apartment. Carla draped Emily's jacket around her and kissed her on the cheek, eliciting another red-hot blush, before lightly smacking her on the back.

As Carla promised, no security in sight. They quietly slipped onto the street and started the walk, Emily walking at her usual brisk pace. She didn't know what to think.

"This always feels so good, Em, but with you? Transcendent, truly." Carla said. Emily looked at her for clarification. What had Carla been doing? It was only three years since they graduated.

"You've heard the rumors. Veronica Lane would have turned thirty on Friday. She knew they'd have dropped her that very minute. She dropped out of Barnard for the business. Lied, cheated, and stole to get where she got, but it didn't matter," Carla said grimly, "she knew she'd be out on the street."

Emily nervously pressed her lips together, swiftly breaking and restoring eye contact. "…Continue."

"I helped her just now, you know. She enjoyed herself on her way out." Carla cooed, petting her stomach fondly. "'Specially since it was you feeling her up. She'd had that particular desire for a little while."

Emily's expression could only be described as mildly horrified as she stopped in her tracks. "How do you know this?"

"We were…confidants. She never did muster up the courage to tell you. Found the very prospect mortifying," Carla explained wistfully, "but now her secret is sealed. Only you and I will ever know, now. Keep walking. I'm saving the best for last."

Emily exhaled and put her head down, focusing only on putting one foot in front of the other. Carla smiled at her as a teacher smiles at a novice. Was this meant to be comforting? She'd helped her former school bully digest someone alive.

They arrived at a nondescript apartment building in an alley just off of 42nd. "We've made it, baby girl. Second door to the left on floor three."

Emily stepped into the apartment, closing the door behind her once again. The apartment struck her as too clean. Right off to the side of the main hallway, there was an oven. It had clearly been on for at least two days, and its contents were pots. Emily grew more concerned. Weren't they both receiving model pay? It wasn't much…right?

"Can I…Can I sit? Don't want to ruin anything." Emily said cautiously. "Looks expensive in here."

Carla whipped her head in Emily's direction, looking at her like she had grown a second head. "You must be joking. For what I'm gonna give you, it'll go down better if you sit. Wouldn't mind if you laid out, either."

Emily inhaled. "This isn't encouraging, Carla," she said. "But I guess I trust you." She sprawled on the loveseat, closing her eyes and effortfully quieting her breathing.

Emily watched as Carla walked to the oven. As soon as Emily couldn't see anymore, Carla smiled to herself. She crouched down and opened the oven, painstakingly combing through the contents of the pot with her fingers. The black slugs inhabiting the pot ceased to wrap their mouths around each other and scrambled to her hand, curling around her digits as children clinging to their mother.

"Shh. No fighting just yet, or none of you get to come out." Carla whispered. She plucked one of the creatures from the pot. It was especially slippery, but immediately clung to her index finger. She brought the slug curled around her finger to her tongue. It smelled of blood. Tasted of blood. This one will do.

"Oh, you ate so well, didn't you? Now for the fun part, little one." Carla said, a smile creeping into her voice. She gingerly placed the slug on her tongue, though it squirmed against her cheeks.

Carla walked back into the living room, where Emily was currently staring at the wall bearing an expression of pure dread. "Sit up," Carla said. "I've got something for you."

Emily sat up to find Carla leaning down above her, cheek gently pressed against cheek. Carla pressed her lips to hers, and the slug scrambled out onto Emily's tongue.

Emily was seized by terror as the creature found its way around. She wanted nothing more than to disgorge the foul thing. One of Carla's hands found its way to the back of Emily's head, fingers splayed out as if holding the head of an infant, with the fingers of the other hand curled around Emily's chin.

"Swallow," Carla said. Emily obliged, choking down the worm. As the worm disappeared past Emily's palate, Carla pushed a finger against Emily's throat and reverently traced the worm's path down, down, down, until it finally disappeared behind Emily's ribs. Emily gulped once more.

Emily schooled her expression. It really did feel better. Carla watched her intently.

"Thanks, Em. That little thing will do wonders for you, just you wait." Carla promised. She yawned, almost exaggeratedly long and loud, and Emily caught a glimpse of the most horrifying sight: sharp teeth, like a lamprey's jaw, seated just behind Carla's teeth.

Emily scrunched up her face and scrambled back. Carla closed her mouth and licked her lips.

"You can crash at my place tonight. Won't need food tomorrow, but you'll be starvin' the day after that." Carla said.

Emily put on a brave face. "…Well, have you got anything in your fridge?"

Carla smiled to herself and shook her head. "The fridge won't help you, I'm afraid," Carla explained, "but I've got a far better meal in mind." An unsettling smile crept onto Carla's face as the identity of the soon-to-be victim of Emily's nascent hunger materialized in her mind.

"Like…like the one you made of Veronica just now?" Emily asked, terror in her voice.

"Precisely."

"Do you have a plan, at least?"

Carla snorted. "Of course I have a plan. I…eat him up, then you eat him up. Literally, in your case."

Emily felt shame wash over her as something she could never say snuck onto her tongue. "Can I watch you…do your part?"

Carla smiled softly, though barely veiling her glee. "You'll do far more than watch. It'll feel so good, Emmy." Carla hesitated. "Patience is a virtue, though. Didn't you learn that back in Tennessee?"

Emily gulped again as the slug squirmed in her own stomach. She grew nauseous. Her body yearned so badly to disgorge the thing, even if it meant ruining Carla's carpets.

Carla hummed. "Sleep, now. It'll help." She placed her fingers on Emily's eyelids and gently closed them.

New York City. Friday night. Emily's first show with a real brand. She'd shown up early; very early. None other than her high school bully, Carla, the up-and-coming darling of myriad designers, recommended Emily to this particular designer. Carla was taller than Emily remembered, though. Never showed up at dinner with her fellow models. Attracted unusual attention from the men.

Emily'd made a great impression on the runway, no doubt. Something tempted her to stay late.

The very first sound she hears, right as she approaches the greenroom to collect her belongings, is a shouting match. Then, a series of loud gulps. Crying, perhaps? Emily cautiously tiptoes back towards the bathroom, cracking the door ever so slightly.

Girl eating girl. Carla held one of the other models, slender and toned, in her jaws. Slowly, slowly, the other girl disappeared past those luscious lips, Carla's lovely throat expanding grotesquely to accommodate the new contents. She could only see the woman's legs now, but the wine stain on her calf tipped Emily off: this was Veronica Lane, the model hailed by Vogue as the next Shalom Harlow. It sounded like a struggle on Carla's end, and by the looks of it, Veronica didn't plan on making it easier.

Finally, Veronica was all the way down behind Carla's ribs. What a relief. Carla sighed with what seemed to Emily as fondness. "Oh, new girl, won't you come in?" she said in a voice far too energetic for the physical feat she had just accomplished. It was almost singsong, really.

Emily's eyes darted to the side bashfully. "I…I can wait if you need. Are you finished up?" she asked, newly embarrassed. She had been staring. Carla was eating a grown woman alive! But all Emily saw, she realized with a dash of horror, were those beautiful lips sealing Veronica away. All she saw were the long, dark locks which spilled out like wine every which way on the floor. All she saw were the parts of Carla's upper half, normally appearing completely pristine, inhumanly stretched to enact a horror on another human.

"Em, I won't bite. I want to show you something," Carla said casually, then grunted with effort before continuing, "A little…stress relief. For the both of us."

Everything in Emily was screaming 'something is wrong,' but this was her friend. She opened the door, stepped inside, closed the door behind her.

Carla was splayed on the floor. Her jeans were halfway down her legs. Her t-shirt only barely covered her breasts. Most relevantly, her stomach was almost as large as she was. The outline of a knee pushed from under Carla's skin. Then, the faintest suggestion of a face; only a nose and a browbone. Veronica, it seemed, scrambled for purchase within this cocoon of flesh. The moaning emanating from the stomach didn't necessarily sound pained, though. It was heard loud and clear even over the quiet gurgles of the digestive system.

The sight was obscene. Horrifying, even. Emily couldn't look away. She crouched down and knelt next to Carla as if on instinct.

She flushed bright red and fidgeted with her ponytail. Carla's eyes slowly landed on Emily's shocked expression, and she bit her lip. Those lips again!

"Knew you'd come in. Just follow my lead." Carla said, almost too calm for Emily's liking. She reached up as best she could and took Emily's hand in hers, guiding it closer to her, then onto her grotesquely stretched stomach.

"Press it on in now. Like you knead the dough of that bread you've made me." Carla instructed. "She won't mind it."

The mound undulated obscenely, as if responding to this dismissal. It seemed…excited. Emily's hands shook as she pushed her left into the flesh. Then her right. Then her left again. It was uncomfortable at first. She could feel Veronica's legs, arms, breasts. Another whimper from inside the stomach.

Carla had been staring at the overhead lamp, a yellow fluorescent that hurt both their eyes. Emily could have sworn she heard the stomach slosh, bubbling like a cauldron at the slightest touch. Carla looked up at her with heavy-lidded eyes as Emily grasped for her own black fleece jacket. It had occurred to her to cover Carla's eyes, let them recover from the strain.

"Oh, don't stop now! I'm putty in your hands," Carla mock-pleaded, "and she will be, too."

Carla winked. A sick joke, to be sure, but Emily couldn't help herself. She smirked ever so slightly, casting the jacket over Carla's tired eyes. Emily moved her hands back to the skin of Carla's stomach.

Emily kneaded and kneaded, lovingly checking the texture of the stomach's contents. Listening for the groaning of Carla's insides as they dissolved the lucky lady smothered in the stomach flesh. Occasionally, she looked over to check if Carla was still awake. Even after Carla fell asleep, Emily kneaded till her fingers went numb.

She checked her watch: 3:00 AM. Her eyes landed back on Carla's stomach, watching the mountainous stomach exude its last twitches of movement. She ran a hand over the mound, more lightly this time. The stomach had shrunk significantly, now far softer to the touch. Something still slithered beneath Carla's skin, though, a sinister delight abiding in all its movements.

Carla had been right. Emily felt at ease, a heavy weight taken off her back. "So God is real," Emily breathed, gently peeling her jacket from Carla's face, "and it's you."

Emily finally mustered the strength to push herself off the ground, but Carla reached up and firmly held onto her shoulders. Was this what Veronica felt in the moments before she was forever sealed behind Carla's lips, Emily wondered? Was she to be the next victim?

"Oh, that was…wonderful. You're coming home with me. Wanna show you something else." Carla said lovingly, practically glowing from the meal. "For business and pleasure, Em."

Emily inhaled and considered her options. Carla's face has already changed, a mole appearing above her lips. Veronica's mole, the one she always accentuated with eyeliner. The defining feature the editors most remembered Veronica for, now belonging to Carla as thoroughly as the rest of her.