Author's Note: I'm about to have surgery again on my hands. To write I used a talk to text program that isn't always accurate. If you like my work, please consider helping me edit so I can publish the dozens of backlogged stories in this series.
This series belongs to Rachel.
World War T is a series of independent, vaguely interconnected stories about different tentacle monsters invading Earth, very much an erotic homage to World War Z. These short stories do not need to be read sequentially.
My ankle bled.
Still I went at it with the rock, trying to pry free this green amoeba as it slowly slithered its way up my leg.
I screamed.
The segmented things, transparently thin and like a palm-sized pillbug continued to shimmy up me. I made another ineffectual stab with the rock and to my surprise, the onrush of panic dulled.
As though I had been drugged.
I knew I should have still been terrified, but something switched, as though this weird bug was no more than a tick I could have burned out at my convenience.
The rationales seemed to come out in another voice, like an actress paid to give her best interpretation of my internal monologue. And while it was me, some sickening turn in my stomach told me that there was no way I would really consider finishing my run...
Even as my legs started moving on the trail...
The thing didn't stop at my thigh, easily sliding underneath my thin running shorts.
My blonde ponytail brushed against the back of my shoulders as I ran, blocking out my thoughts. There were two different tracks running in my mind, my usual, dominant type-A personality demanding that I get my ass to a hospital right now...
And another, more soothing whisper, telling me it would all be alright...
