Far Fetched Fables No. 73 Laird Barron
Story: “Blood and Stardust” by Laird Barron
Three years later, as I hike my skirt to urinate in a dark alley in the slums of Kolkata, my arms are grasped from behind. The Doctor whispers, “So, we meet again.” His face was ruined in the explosion — its severe, patrician mold is melted and crudely reformed as if an idiot child had gotten his or her stubby fingers on God’s modeling clay. I can’t see it from my disadvantaged perspective, but that’s not necessary. I’ve been following him and Pelt around since our original falling out.
Speaking of the Devil… Pelt slips from the shadows and drives his favorite dirk, first through my belly, then, after he smirks at the blood splattering onto our shoes, my heart. He grins as he twists the blade like he’s winding a watch.
“— and this time the advantage is mine.” I laugh with pure malice, and die.
Laird Barron is the author of several books, including The Croning, Occultation, and...
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