I closed my eyes and bit down on my lip. Lily's movements were maddening, quick and deliberate motions that didn't just match my own, but challenged them. Her motherly hips seemed to encompass my own, taking me further into her than I believed possible. My head was dizzy; she wasn't just above me and I wasn't merely inside of her. She was all around me, surrounding me. Her body moved against mine in frantic abandon and I could feel my sanity being devoured into her tempestuous core.

I fought the urge to just let go, let the moment consume me. This was what she wanted, what she needed. My body argued that I needed it even more. I could just give in. It would be so easy. My mind wandered to Tina, who was possibly roaming the house, trying to find me.

Please don't come out here. Not now, not ever. Save yourself, no sense in both of us-

It was a weak thought, though. I knew it and hated the fact it came so easy. I wanted to reach up and punch the bitch grinding above me. Not just for my sake, but Tina's. Smash that horrible and beautiful face of hers for Megan. There had to have been previous victims, probably hundreds. I would do it for them, as well. Sweat poured into my eyes as I wrestled with all the conflicting thoughts in my fevered brain.

I had to be careful.

Thinking those violent thoughts were as much of a turn on as the gasps and screams in my ears. She could feel me tense up and that spurred her on, too. She lowered herself down unto me and paused. She pressed her head to my blood-soaked chest. Her tongue slid about the gaping wound there, tickling the edges of it with slow and painful precision. The dampness of her lower body coursed all around the rigidness of mine. She placed her withered and bony fingers at the side of my head, pressing her thumbs into my temples.

The moonlight above us exploded behind my closed eyes, forcing them to open. I could feel her form change above me. Her grimy fingers pressed harder into my skull as her breathing changed rhythm again. These tones were at a disquieting octave, low and shimmering with all the energy we had garnered with every pull and thrust. Images unnatural swirled into view as she began to hum. Sing. Though I knew that she was desperately clinging to me and building to yet another climax, that wasn't what I saw.

The moon hung low and fat, her body moving and illuminated as if it shone only for her. Her skin was youthful and yet ancient, white skin bleached by the moon-glow. They seemed identical in age, friends and lovers since the night they had met. Years, maybe aeons had passed between them; lustful nights of pleasure bleeding into the cold and calculating necessity of decay. She belonged to it and it to her. There could be no other Truth. The black of night was hers for the taking, a witch who needed no dream-house. Her nature was to take, consume and be reborn. All men were complicit when she called, crawling and begging to have a taste of her. Women answered her call as needed, though not as often. Her form and features were that of every woman she had destroyed and devoured, if only to lure more men to her singular purpose: rebirth. She was Nature at its most primal, a vessel of destruction and creation that didn't beg fealty; she inspired it.

The moon was brighter now and she stared up at it. She was a reflection of the moon, as round as it was above her. She sang in a low, breathy chant as she moved her hands about her swollen body. She raked her dirty fingernails across her belly. Her hands were met with a forceful response from inside her pregnant stomach. It matched her movements and she smiled as her voice rang through the night sky, proud and lost in the moment. She was beautiful and hideous; swollen with life and bursting with need.

Just like I would be if I didn't focus.

"Shit," I said. I closed my eyes and fought back against the strain, the weight of her legs pressing against my thighs.

"It's okay. You need this. Fill me. Feed me. Feed Her. Prove to me how much you need this. Show Us that you are mine. You've been soooo good to Us. Let Me show you how. Give Us just one final taste of you and I will show you how the pleasures of My flesh have no end. With Us, all things are possible. This is only the beginning. You will always be a part of Me. Deep inside of Me. Just like you were meant to be."

Her lips never moved. Had they ever moved at all? Her voice was forceful. A kind of magic all its own. In it, I found the words dripping with a somber confidence more reassuring than the scene playing out before me.

Her fingernails dug into my shoulders as she threw her head back, moaning at the night sky. It tilted further back, disjointed from the nape of her neck at an impossible angle as she bellowed. It wasn't soft, like a woman lost in an impassioned moment; it was the sound a wild creature makes before it closes in on a wounded animal and gorges itself. Her eyes locked with mine, the silver in them darkening, her black pupils bleeding and spreading like spilled ink on a page. She smiled as she leaned in for a kiss; perhaps the last.

Her tongue flicked out from the side, touching my lips as her sour breath lingered into my nostrils. It was suffocating, a ploy to get me to open my mouth in disgust or fear. If I opened my mouth, I knew that the slimy and pinkish-grey tongue would swell and squirm even further down my throat, completing the act. She was a snake, a viper using its tongue to sense its prey; to taste the air around me, savor the horrid anguish that hung in the air, separating us and connecting us in constant measure.

I tried my best to ignore this. I closed my eyes and pictured a different place. A safe place. Anywhere, but here. Her tongue slid down my chin and licked beads of sweat from my throat and I nearly screamed. Her full lips were teasing again, resting and suckling at the pulse there. I opened my eyes and caught her own not looking at me, but rolled further back into the sullen sockets and vibrating, pounding in unison with my own deafening heartbeat.

Her flesh began to loosen, like a candle smoldering and melting as a flame takes its toll. I could feel her legs tighten around me again, her swollen stomach pressed against my own aching abdomen. There was movement down there, greedy and undeniable. Something pushed against the skin there; tiny hands or feet grabbing and kicking as her hips rolled and slammed down with the force of an ocean's undertow. I thought of how adorable and life-affirming it was when people asked you if you wanted to feel the baby kick.

This was not the same. This was a mockery of those moments, distasteful and foreign. There was nothing human about it. It was alien and an insult to Nature itself.

Her control over me and her prowess at prolonging the inevitable, scared me more than that final gunshot in August. It gnawed at my sanity, my eyes rolling back into my head as tears burst and flowed down my cheeks. Tears for Megan, my mother, for every mistake and every misstep in my life and any connection to others. I was in ruinous complacency, still aroused in spite of it all and begging the monster bucking against me to save me from the monster I believed I was. Her tongue lapped at my tears, before slithering and violently plunging into my mouth. Our lips locked and I breathed into her as she invaded and explored, welcoming every filthy and disgusting thing she could give me.

I would sacrifice myself.

I was lost, too fucking far gone to be any good. I was meant for this. Megan had always deserved better. Tina still deserved more. My father had been the wise one, abandoning me before I could fuck up his life anymore than I had already, just by being born. My mother might even be proud of me, learning to finally stop being selfish and learn from her giving nature, It was good for the soul, she had always said.

"Mine," she whispered.

My head was crowded. Too many voices, too many thoughts. I fucking couldn't hold back any longer. I arched my back into her and grabbed her hair, pulling her face from my neck. That motion was met with an unusually warm wetness below my waist, trickling down my thighs and drenching me in some unnatural form of orgasm. She gushed and I pulled myself up to look into her eyes.

She had lost her rhythm, surprised by the force and sudden decision to give in to her completely. My mind had shattered and like every goddamned man before me, I had given her everything. The voices in my head silenced for a brief moment.

I heard some muted movements behind me.

No, not Tina. Not now.

I shifted my weight unto one side and slipped out of her and then back again. She sighed and bit down on my shoulder and shuddered as I began to move. Lily answered back, staring up at the moon and moving against me with calculated eagerness. She moaned, this time sounding almost human. She lay her hands at either side and leaned away from me, her hips starting to dance around me again.

How long could I do this? How long would she allow me to prolong the inevitable?

I didn't know. There was only one thing that I was sure of.

I hammered my fist into her distorted and swollen belly three times, feeling whatever was nesting there thrash and protest. There were two shrieks as I did. One was the shrill cry of a wounded animal caught in a trap. The other scream was that of a small child, screeching from her ungodly womb. Those two sounds were almost music to my ears.

Sanity and insanity are the same chords, just set in a different progression.