The house was unpleasantly warm and damp, like a greenhouse or a sauna. It reeked, too, even outside of the basement. We conducted the investigation as thoroughly as we could, under the circumstances.
"Jeez, how long have these been here?" The bones were barely covered with a slimy, soupy mess. You couldn't even tell they were bodies.
"According to their neighbors, they were seen out and about two days ago."
"But these... I mean, they've been rotting for weeks, at least."
"Or..." I hesitated. "Or digesting for about twelve hours."
The house groaned, then. I refuse to say it belched.
DP FICTION #120B: “In His Image” by R. Haven
5 days ago
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