By Dorian Blackwood
She submerged in the bath, tracing circles on the surface of the boiling water with her fingertips. There’d been such fanfare when she’d unveiled her latest marvel of modification, a skin that could render the wearer impervious to the dangers of extreme temperatures, which never bruised or blemished, and never bled when cut.
But she hadn’t made it for them. She had made it for him, and it was his hands she imagined moving over her skin now in slow, sensual motions; washing her clean of the filth of the outside world.
When her excitement for what was to come threatened to distract her, and ruin her focus, she pressed her thumb to the inside of her wrist. ‘Alice, I want a moderate heartrate and blood pressure within a normal range,’ she said. An angelic halo of light illuminated the edges of her thumb from beneath her skin, and she felt calm and centred again.
Smiling, she rose from the bath. Once dried, she wrapped herself in her robe. He liked her best like this, bare skin that needed no embellishments.
In the bedroom, she was careful to avoid the connecting cables as she knelt over his newest form, her latest creation, and pressed her lips to his with the fervour of worship. ‘Alice,’ she murmured. ‘Begin the mind transference, and record the results under the file for Experiment Thirty-Two.’
Silver light filtered through the cables. He began to thrash, chest heaving and mouth opening wide as if he meant to swallow her whole, although he couldn’t break the restraints. Tears sparkled like diamonds against his skin. ‘No! No, no! Please — not again! Not again!’ he sobbed. ‘Please, let me die! Let me —’
She grew cold and withdrew. ‘Alice, terminate the experiment. There’s been an error in the transference.’
The failure beneath her choked, convulsed, and fell limp.
She turned from it, swallowing the bitter, ashen taste of her disappointment. When she’d collected herself, she spoke again. ‘Alice, mark this record as a failure. He wouldn’t speak to me like that. He loves me, he’d want to be here with me again. I know it.’
A soft ping told her it was done.
‘Now,’ she said, ‘open a new record. Label it Experiment Thirty-Three.’
About the Author
Dorian Blackwood
Dorian Blackwood is an aspiring Australian author who grew up devouring books of all genres.
Over time they were particularly drawn to darker tales, gothic novels and weird fiction.
These stories introduced them to beings out of space and time, haunted houses and haunted people, and paintings that could capture the soul.
When not reading, they love to sit down and tell stories with friends through table-top roleplay games. If they’re not doing that, they can be found sewing up a storm in their craft room!