Cat Tongue

Part 1

[Part 1/2]

The feeling of moisture evaporating from her skin. The sticky feeling left behind. The lingering feeling of pressure.

Simone Douglass lifted up her head as she smoothly transitioned from her sleep state into wakefulness. Her dry eyes observed the dark lump retracting itself from her hand and receding into the wall. Her fist clenched at the unclean feeling.

It had to have been a product of her recent dream state, she knew, but she couldn't shake the unsettling sensation left on her exposed hand.

The woman pulled her hand in and turned to lie on her back. She periodically shifted and turned in bed, but it was fruitless. No matter how she settled, she couldn't fall asleep. Simone was wide awake. And the moment she realized that, she also realized that she had been holding her hand closely to her chest, as if it had been injured. But it wasn't injured. No, it just felt dirty.

"Geez..." Simone irritably threw the covers aside and swung her legs over the bed.

She didn't bother turning on the light at the cost of burning her already dry eyes and awakening her housemate, who's open bedroom door would allow any light to slither in.

The woman quietly made her short trip to the bathroom down the hallway. She closed the door behind herself before she finally clicked on the lights. The sea green walls helped curb the brightness.

Simone reached out to both silver knobs on the porcelain white sink to get an even temperature of water. She pumped a dollop of soap directly onto her right hand only to gasp in surprise.

The area which felt dirty was now an angry shade of red. It was blotchy, much like a rash. The cool soap on it even gave it a sense of relief as it oozed over the skin.

The woman continued to wash her hand carefully and not agitate the red spot any more.

"So it was a spider bite," she thought to herself "And I left the thing alive in my room. It'll be hell trying to find it."

Regardless, Simone returned to her bedroom with the full intent to seek out the nuisance. Such occurrences were to be expected during the spring, but it was no less annoying.

The woman turned on the bedroom light and reached for one of the sandals that she discarded at the door that afternoon.

She immediately began walking towards her bed, but stopped halfway there. Her brow furrowed in a skeptical frown. Her mouth was frozen in a silent "What...?". The sandal in her hand whined as her fingers dug into its leather.

A tongue hung out of the wall right next to her bed.

It wriggled about in an attempt to lick whatever was right in front of it. If Simone were in bed right now, sleeping on her stomach as she often did, that object would be her hand.

The saliva coating it shined in the light as it moved.

Simone's breath came out in a pitiful wheeze. She clutched the sandal closer to her as if it were a knife. Though, the footwear trembled dangerously in her hands.

The woman's head grew fuzzy and weightless. Her body numbed and her ears became filled with the sound of her own heartbeat. Simone stumbled backwards, her unfocused eyes struggling to stay on the tongue. She somehow managed to exit the bedroom and close the door in front of her.

Simone didn't think. While her mind blanked out, her legs carried her into the living room and onto the cold leather couch. A shiver ran up her spine as her bare skin came in contact with it, but slumber swept over her before she had time to complain.