“Cause of death, blunt-force trauma,” man’s voice says. “Wrongful death.”
Rebecca lays upon a surgical table unable to move, though she’s not bound. The cold touch of the surgical steel table pressed against her back and buttocks, the backs of her legs and calves. She must be nude.
But I’m not dead
Panic takes her. Frantic gulps of air fragrant with fur and feces do little to sate her need for oxygen.
I’m not dead.
She screams, but her mouth refuses to cooperate. The sound reverberates through her mind adding to the dissonance already there.
“Multiple lacerations made by…well hell, I can’t even say. A small hatchet swung laterally, perhaps?”
From the way the man talks, he’s speaking for the record. If television has taught her anything, he probably has a handheld digital recording device. Likely a sleek, silver one, the sort rich folks order from catalogs with exotic-sounding names.
Horror explodes inside her with irresistible force. Because fur is on the hand—paw?—that’s manipulating her limb. Not hair but fur.
She sees them, all at once. Three grotesque human-sized rabbits. They loom over her, their red eyes blazing with malignant fire. The incessant twitching of their noses and cheeks, a characteristic that seems so cute on the normal-sized variety, is hideous at this scale.
It’s hard to breathe, paralyzed as she is by terror. One of the ungodly monsters makes a short series of chuffing sounds, and another disappears from view. It returns in her periphery, walking upright with a tray of hideous-looking silver instruments. She recognizes the array of tools, thanks to Law and Order:the implements of an autopsy.
Rebecca sweats, in spite of the cold table and the cool temperature of the room. She watches with a terrible mix of fear and fascination as one of the rabbits deftly selects a pair of oversized shears. It places a paw—hand?—upon her stomach and feels upward until it reaches her solar-plexus. The touch of fur disappears, only to be replaced by the icy-steel tip of the shears.
J. Robert Kane is a writer of horror and science-fiction.
Mr. Kane attended SUNY Empire State College, where he earned a bachelor’s degree in American History. He received the Joseph L. Mancino Scholarshipand enjoyed volunteering part-time at the campus writing lab.
Hailing from Long Island, New York, J. Robert Kane lives with his longtime love Rebecca.