They were everywhere.

Some were still alive, flopping and stretching their wings. Some of them screamed in fear, or perhaps agony. Others didn't move at all, their tiny pupils staring up at the sky with confusion. I watched as three of them sung out in confidence and fluttered into the air, heading in opposite directions. Each one made it a few feet, before diving straight into the wet grass with a thud. The ones who were alive seemed confused, like newborns just learning to fly again. The shock as they realized they couldn't and the screech as they crashed in spite of their efforts, was unnerving.

I started counting them in the back of my mind as I stepped unto the lawn. I was careful to avoid them, stepping around ten of the corpses before making it into the grassy area on the right of the driveway. I had counted close to twenty-three of the birds, starting from the front door. That number was nothing compared to the path leading to the pond.

Which, still believing that this surreal moment was only in my head- was where I needed to be. The pond was calling me. Begging me to follow the path ahead. Then, I could wake up. There was an answer there, even if the question was just out of reach. My skin crawled as I remembered waking in the pond, almost drowning. I reminded myself that I was sober this time. My head was clear. I looked down at the bottle in my hand.

I arced my arm back and slung it into the bushes at the side of the house. The death-cries of the crows all around changed tone. They sang in my ears. They seemed to agree with my decision, encouraging me despite their own dire situation. I stared down the dirt path ahead, into the wooded area beyond.

I took a step forward, trying to be careful as before. It was impossible. These birds were not moving, not trying to fly. They were dead. Completely. They were littered along the path, at the edges and piled upon each other. It reminded me of a photo I'd seen of plague piles in the streets of Europe.

At least it's not people, I thought.

Some seemed to have been there for weeks, maybe months. There were some buried in the path itself, a beak or two peaking out from the dirt. Strings of flesh hung loosely on many of the carcasses, the pink and greying sinew giving way to brittle bone. Feathers littered the path, and every few steps one would fly high into the air, then float back to the earth. I brushed most of them from my arms and hair as I walked.

None of that was the worst part, though. As horrible as the scene before me was, it was nothing compared to the crunching of the bone and scraping of their beaks on my shoes as I walked.

CRACK.

The first one startled me and I froze. I took a deep breath and started forward again. The next one didn't just crack under the weight. There was another noise. A pop. I looked down at my feet and saw that some dark, fleshy piece clung to the bottom of my shoe. It was a heart or maybe a stomach. I couldn't tell. Hell, I didn't need to know. I gagged and shook my head. I kicked it away and decided to ignore the squishing of the flesh and crushing bones underneath me.

It was fucking impossible.

Each step was louder and messier. I began to run towards the overhanging trees and clearing ahead, pressing my hands to my ears. I pressed them tight to the sides of my head, as tightly as the bits of blood, flesh and fragments of organs clinging to the soles of my shoes.

The end of the path was clear of birds. As I stepped off the path and towards the wooden dock, my feet were met with one final casualty. This one was large and given the fullness of its feathers, fresh. It reminded me of the overgrown one outside my window. In the second it took me to notice it, I had already stepped on its upturned stomach.

Its claws wiggled under my foot and it wailed one final plea. It was too late. My foot pressed down as I stared down at it, its midsection flattening under my weight. The beak opened and its eyes blinked twice as it let out its final breath. Nestled between its beak was a foreign object, gleaming and milky. When my foot began to lift, it popped out of its mouth and rolled ahead of me.

I paused as I watched it roll down the small hill and bounce along the dock. It splashed as it hit the water, sinking slow enough for me to recognize it. I didn't know how it was possible, but it had to be.

It reminded me of Florica's glass eye.

It floated on the surface and spun around, before sinking into the dark water below it. I fought the urge to reach for it. I crawled to the edge of the wooden planks and stared into the pond. Below the surface, I could see the weeds and the eye as it continued to sink. There was nothing left to see, but a sudden movement ahead of me.

"Mine," a soft voice beneath the surface chimed.

It was Lily's voice, confident and sensual. It was all around me, in my head, beneath the water. The dead crows behind me wailed in protest. I turned and looked behind me as they did. The path was clear of debris. No evidence that they had been there at all. I wiped the sweat from my brow and returned my gaze to the lake.

Water cascaded unto the muddy shore, whipping around the posts of the dock. I watched as the surface ahead changed and Lily's head rose out of the depths. Her hair hung wet in her dark eyes, falling to her shoulders and covering the front of her bare chest. She was floating there, laying back as she spread her arms open, waving them to maneuver to get a better view of me. She was naked and relaxed, more beautiful than I ever remembered.

She swam backwards then forward, her breasts floating just above the surface. The nipples of each were taut and swollen, darker than I remembered them being. Her breasts seemed larger as well, the flesh ripe and milky against the murkiness of the water. My hands reached out to her out of instinct. I could feel my rational thought slipping as I watched her, my memories of Tina fading into the darkened woods ahead. She smiled at me and licked her lips. She turned and disappeared beneath the water again.

Desire gnawed at my senses as I pulled myself closer to the end of the dock. The lower part of me stirred and strained as I crawled forward. She was goddamn beautiful, her skin wet and inviting. I yearned for other parts of her, knowing them to be even more so. My breathing became heavy as I scanned the water, trying to catch a glimpse of her again.

Her hands grasped the edge of the dock, pulling herself up. Her eyes were silver orbs, with black pupils dilating as her gaze locked with mine. She smiled and kissed me. Her lips were wet and full, opening as her tongue danced with mine. I could feel her pulling herself out of the water, her breasts pressed against me. With one hand she pushed me back, my head landing against the wooden planks behind me. The world dimmed and I grunted, my eyes slamming shut on impact.

When I opened my eyes again, she was standing above me. My pants were around my ankles, and her hand manipulating me with slow and precise motions. I groaned as she ran her other hand down the length of her body. She caressed her breasts and leaned forward, kneeling slightly to brush them against my chest. I reached up with one of my hands to touch them but she leaned back, just out of reach. I tried to sit up but her grip on me tightened and she shook her head with a devilish grin.

She took my arm in one clawed hand, guiding me to her bosom. She paused and shook her head again, lowering my hand to her stomach. She moaned and smiled, nodding as she did. Her eyes widened and she looked down at my hand, which rested there for a moment before she moved it side to side. Then, up and down.

Her belly was swollen.

She began to breath heavy and leaned forward to kiss me. This time, my mouth didn't open. Her tongue ran along my lips before her mouth rested on my neck. She nibbled at the skin there, her teeth sharp and reminding me what she could do with them. What she had already done with them. Her hand worked below my waist again and against my will, I arched into her body. She leaned further and straddled me, her thighs squeezing at the sides of my hips. The lower half of me strained, jutting against her swollen abdomen before disappearing inside of her.

She ran her nails against my chest, scraping at the partially-healed wounds there. She began to grind against me, her moans causing me to match her movements. She sighed and tapped a bony finger against my chest as she moved.

Tap.

TAP.

THWACK.

I barely felt the wound re-open. My eyes were locked on her bouncing breasts and swollen nipples as she rode. Her breathing was sharp and erratic, building to a cry that seemed to echo in the trees and linger. She bucked against me, her mouth meeting mine before moving down to my upper body. She rested there a moment as her hips gathered speed. I reached my hands to the sides of them, helping her. She raised her head with a jerking motion and smiled at me, arching her back in agreement.

Her tongue slithered from between her lips. It was pink and black, saliva dripping from the corners of her mouth. It continued to extend, moving down the slopes of her hanging breasts. It curled around one her nipples, squeezing it, before teasing the dark and puckered area around it. It was like an inhuman tentacle, exploring her own body with brutal enthusiasm. She leaned forward and began exploring mine in fevered motions. It caressed my face and licked at my frightened mouth.

I tried to scream, but she pressed my hand against her belly again. Her tongue wormed its way to the fresh wound on my chest, lapping at the edges before plunging into it. The scream became a groan as my eyes rolled back into my skull, scared shit-less and aroused all the same.

"It's a girl," she cooed. "Just as you are mine, you are hers, as well. Ours."

All reason shattered at the thought. The branches of the trees above us seemed gnarled and determined to close around us. The woods darkened and the sounds of the insects faded. I began to realize in that moment, that I wasn't dreaming.

She rubbed her belly with her free hand, clutching mine as she slammed her other hand against my abdomen. Her breathing changed, as did mine; hers spurred by climax, mine from ungodly fear and regret. Hopelessness.

As she continued to feed and work her hips desperately to another climax, I caught a glimpse of light in the shadows of the trees behind us. It looked like headlights.

Tina?

It had to be. No one else would visit at this hour. Hell, no one knew I was here except Mort and his wife.

Lily began to smear my blood on her belly and breasts, lost in her own world of lust and hunger. I moved my own hips faster to match her movements. I wasn't concentrating on desire, though. My movements were a distraction.

Keep her busy.

For Tina's sake, even if not my own.