Visitation Hour


(From the forthcoming tale The Familiar.)

Visiting Hours at a strange infirmary in a weird ship on a mad sea…

The AK-47 clacked on the stair and discharged a single round. The bullet passed through a wall as nothing and into the foot of a patient sleeping tight in the fetal position. The bullet’s trajectory was just so that it bored directly into the tibia and sailed right up the center of the bone-shaft, hollowing the marrow like a straw. The lead fang topped-off it’s osseous slurp and burst out the knee-cap, sending it flipping up through the air like a chance-coin, ceasing the patient’s slumber by slapping him squarely on the forehead where the disk of bone then flatly stuck. And the bullet breezed dutifully on through the next wall.


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