manipulation, witch, zombie
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True Scary Story: My Girlfriend Is Rotting Alive

True Scary Story: My Girlfriend Is Rotting Alive

I don’t know what changed.

Kim was normal when we met, when we got together. She was for months. A whole year. And now…

“Hold on, I need a quick shower.”

I watched as she stepped into the bathroom of our apartment, the shower turning on for the third time that day. She was in when I woke up, she had another after lunch, and here we are again before we go to dinner. And despite that, I swear the whole place smells like roadkill.

I don’t stop her, though, even when her constant showers don’t seem to be helping whatever the smell is. I’ve looked all over the apartment, I’ve showered extra, but nothing seems to be the source.

Also read True Scary Story: The Deep Forest

Is it the bed? I wandered back into our room thinking about it while I waited for Kim to be ready. Our sheets were clean, I washed them pretty often anyway. They weren’t stained. Kim hadn’t said anything about the bed, let alone the smell to begin with—even denying it when I’d brought it up. I considered that I might just be going insane until I spotted something in the sheets.

A worm? It looked like there was a worm sticking out of Kim’s pillowcase. My brow furrowed as I lifted up the pillow to check it – watching it fall out and hit the bed.

My face contorted in disgust. It was dirty, as I guess worms always are. I grabbed a tissue and picked it up, going and loosely tossing it out the window since I wasn’t sure what to do with it. Go decompose something that actually decomposes.

The shower turned off down the hall, so I tried to brush the thought off and went to meet her. Kim stepped back out of the bathroom after another few minutes, grabbing a scarf and wrapping it around her neck, giving me a chuckle.

“It’s only in the 60s, you really that cold?”

Kim gave me a bemused sort of look. “Sorry we can’t all be little snowbirds. C’mon, we’ve got a reservation.”

“You can’t pull the Californian card when it’s barely below room temperature outside.” I nudged her playfully as we left the apartment, heading downstairs and out to my car. It almost felt like my elbow went into hers, sinking into her skin ever so slightly, but I wouldn’t be able to tell that under her sleeve.

“Too bad. Pulling the Californian card.” She hopped into the passenger’s seat, subtly massaging where I’d elbowed her. Again, still, I brushed it all off, thinking I was imagining things and blowing them out of proportion. A molehill is only a mountain if I’m looking at it from an ant’s point of view.

Speaking of ants, I had to fight between the prospect that the restaurant we frequented suddenly had an ant problem or that the ants were following Kim. They stayed away from my side of our table, but they crawled all over hers. Across her hands and through her food, burrowing into it and her very pores before me.

She got up constantly for the bathroom, something about how her new diet was messing with her bladder. But I noticed what it really was. I could see the ants. I could see them swarming her at every step. They floated drowned in her glass of water. Her hands came back more scrubbed raw every time. They were red and almost shrunken looking. Wrinkled at the ends, her manicured nails longer than I swore they were yesterday.

When Kim stepped away for the eighth or so time, I leaned over across the table to investigate her pasta. She’d been eating hungrily the whole time, so not very much was left. Still, ants pooled all over the plate, the surviving ones devouring its remains. My face scrunched up with disgust.

She was quick to return, though, so I played it off and hoped she didn’t notice. Kim moved over the table to kiss me when we stood to leave. Her breath felt like it had been festering for months, vile, chilly, even underneath the scent of pasta. She tasted like spoiled meat and Alfredo sauce.

I think she noticed the way I recoiled at it, no matter how much I tried to cover it up. She gave me another little look. “What? I didn’t think the pasta smelled that bad.”

I forced a smile. “Just stronger than I expected.”

Kim shrugged, taking my hand to lead me back out to our car once I’d tipped. I pursed my lips as I looked at the back of her blonde head. And I felt something in my mouth.

With my free hand, I reached up, opening my mouth and pulling it out. Something hard and jagged.

Half of a tooth.

I felt sick. My tongue ran over my own teeth, just to be sure I hadn’t bit one out without noticing. But no, there was nothing. Nothing hurt in my mouth except where the shard had poked my cheek. There was no way it was mine.

I looked back up at Kim as we reached the car, flicking the broken tooth away as my stomach churned. Trying to ignore the growing suspicions that something was wrong with her. She turned and smiled at me all the same, hopping in the passenger’s seat and strapping in. Maybe I was just going insane.

I went back to writing it off for the rest of the night, like an idiot. She didn’t want to kiss me goodnight, probably after earlier. Not that I really wanted to taste that again anyway.

Things were only getting worse, though.

I woke up hearing the shower running. Flipped over, checking the time thinking my alarm was about to go off, but it was 4 am.

I could hear Kim fumbling around in the bathroom. Turning back to her side of the bed, I glanced over the sheet and pillow. It was hard to tell in the dark, but I swore it looked grimy.

Still, I closed my eyes again, lulling myself off with the pitter-pattering of the shower. At least, I tried to, eventually having to scoot myself away from her side because of the smell. Still, it wasn’t enough to knock me out before she came back, wrapping her arms around me from behind and resting her forehead against my shoulder. Rancid cold breath sent a shiver down my spine, but I just kept trying to get to sleep through it.

It was only getting harder to do that, though. She was cold, unnatural, the smell was growing unbearable. Worse than any of that – I could feel something wriggling its way underneath me. Countless little maggots worming against my skin, writhing, nibbling, eating away at me. Slowly. All with such deliberate bites, you would think they held personal grudges.

But I was scared, terrified, really. That if I were to move, I’d make it real. It wouldn’t be a dream if I addressed it. So I just had to pretend it wasn’t there.

Three agonizing hours went by before it slowed to a stop, the parasites retreating to where they came from just in time for my alarm to go off. Finally able to get up, I left Kim whining about the cold and went straight for the bathroom.

My skin was reddened. My lower back itched, clearly covered in little flecks of gnawing when I could get a good look. I exhaled a shaky breath, getting into the shower and scrubbing it up with soap and lotion, shutting my eyes and praying it would go away if I kept ignoring it. It must be something more explainable. What the fuck kind of answer was there for this?

I let Kim into the bathroom so I could get dressed. The shower turned on again, of course, and I could hear her practically chugging mouthwash beyond the door. Feeling as if that might taste even worse than what it felt like last night, I got ready for work quickly and left breakfast on the table for her before I headed out.

It wouldn’t stop itching. I had to hold it together. It was utterly unbearable. I’m still surprised no one called me out on how many times I went to the bathroom that day just to itch and reapply what little lotion I had left. Scrubbing my own hands red, staring down at them, making sure they didn’t look shrunken. They were fine. It was stupid to be checking.

Disgust crawled across me all day. I was swatting at more flies than I could count through every hour. So I scrubbed more. Dabbed on some cologne. They swarmed me regardless.

I was running out of reasons to deny that something was up. On the drive home, I considered my options, how I could possibly approach the question. I had to. The other choice was starting to look like letting myself be eaten alive by insects. I loved Kim, but I don’t think enough to be devoured by bugs until I was a skeleton.

When I got home, I had my points in mind, gearing myself up to talk to her. Opening the door met me with that same repulsive scent, but it was mixed with something far nicer – steak.

“There you are.” Kim jumped me at the door, grabbing me by the collar to loosen my tie. “I made dinner! Go get into something comfy so we can eat. I have a surprise for you.”

So, like a fucking moron, I put it off.

I change, I sit and I have a wonderful meal with my girlfriend. At least the steak is good. The bugs festering in our apartment haven’t demolished her cooking skills. Still, the fact that was a possibility that entered my head meant I needed to focus.

“Kim?”

“Yeah?” She looked up from the sink, cleaning up the dishes from dinner.

“I wanted to ask you something, just- I haven’t been sure how to,” I admitted, glancing away from her and off toward our room.

Even without looking her way, I could hear how her whole face lit up in her voice. “Oh, I have been too! Actually- give me a second.”

I opened my mouth to cut her off, but she was already running off to our room with soap still on her hands, slamming the door shut in her wake.

Okay. I’m holding off again.

I sat and waited, hearing the door lock click open after a few seconds. Kim didn’t come out.

“Why don’t you come in?” She called out.

A tone I recognized.

I got up, steeling myself. If it was supposed to be a distraction, I couldn’t let myself fall for it, no matter how alluring she tried to sound.

Step, step, step. I opened the door.

Kim was laying back on the bed, wearing a lacy black nightgown. Her feet dangled off of the end, letting my eyes trail up her legs, to the hem of the short dress.

I snapped my eyes away, back to her face. Of course there was that look. I tried not to let it get to me.

“I really, really need to talk to you about this, Kim.”

“We have all the time in the world,” She replied softly, sitting up and reaching out to pull me over by my shirt. I stumbled slightly, starting to feel almost dazed, blindsided.

She wouldn’t touch my skin. She knew her flesh was cold and thin. I could see it on her. Her face looked sunken in the dim light of the bedroom. Something crawled out of her tear duct—an ant. My eyes widened, but if she noticed, she couldn’t care less.

Kim yanked me down onto the bed, forcing me to loom over top of her, hands down on either side of her neatly crossed legs. She unfolded them and leaned back again, staring at me expectantly and nudging my thigh with her toe.

I felt so ill. My hand almost moved on its own, resting on her side, slinking down to lift her nightgown. But as it did, I froze up, horrified at what I should’ve been expecting since I got home.

Insects squirm in and out of her stomach, of everything below. Maggots worm in and out, spilling down her body, feasting. I gagged on the smell, that revolting stench of rot, staring in disbelief at the fungus growing out of her rotting meat. She lifts a thinning hand, placing it on my cheek, another maggot wiggling its way out from beneath her fingernail.

I felt like I couldn’t move. Only shaking breaths kept me alive, how it felt my heart had stopped with the rest of me. Fruit flies buzzed around her naked flesh, gorging in pure delight of the meal she so blessed them with. With her other hand, she took my own, moving it towards the festering mess.

“It’s okay,” She cooed. “I should warn that they bite, but… that pain doesn’t last. It feels wonderful. I promise.”

I tried to open my mouth, but my body wouldn’t let me.

Kim’s hand cradled my face as she spoke, continuing to guide my hand through the infestation that her body had become. “They like how you taste. Do you want to deprive them of that? Deprive me of it?”

I could barely get my lips to part.

“Darling? Yes?” She insisted, thumb grazing them.

But I still couldn’t find a word to say.

Kim just smiled at me, bringing my hand lower. “That’s okay. I promise, it’ll all be worth it. What we take from nature, we ought to give back, don’t you think?”

When my skin made contact with a spider crawling out from inside of her, my body finally allowed me to react. I wrenched myself away, gasping for clean air, covering my mouth with my clean hand for a moment before I made a run for it. Then I heard her call out, trying to scramble after me, but I didn’t look back. I ran out the door with all I had, barely taking the seconds to grab my keys and wallet. Hurrying out to my car.

When I made it out there, she was right on my heels, one of my coats hastily draped around her to hide what was oozing from her flesh. I fumbled with my keys and got into my car just as she reached out to grab the door frame, to stop me. Her hand was in the way. I slammed it shut.

She barely even flinched when the door sliced her fingers in half.

I shivered as I looked down at the severed ends, but she was starting to climb onto the hood of the car. Didn’t have the time to be repulsed. I started the car and floored it out of the complex, letting her roll off the front when I lurched backwards.

I managed to find a motel for the night, and I turned my location off. But I’m worried she has another way to find me—or, worse, that the infestation has already begun within me. Flies buzz around my head even after my fourth shower of the night. My skin itches, my hand feels almost completely unusable. That smell has followed me here. I can tell.

I’m terrified to go to the doctor, but I guess that’s my next order of business. But I’m going to make this public first for fear Kim finds me before I can be admitted somewhere.

It’s too impossible to endure. I don’t know how long she’s been like this.

Maybe I’ve been being eaten for weeks.

Maybe I’m already going to rot.

Also Read True Short Story: Forbidden Child

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