Cat Tongue

Part 2

Simone felt like she had floated all the way to her job like a ghost. With how smoothly she slipped past the radar of her coworkers, she was almost convinced that she had died of a heart attack in her room that morning and her spirit was now carrying the normal motions of her daily life. Though, one would not expect to gain much attention from working in the mailroom of a big corporate business. Rather than being put out on the forefront for all to see, the woman sat in a modest room with a few other people given the same tasks.

As she listlessly sorted the mail, her mind continued to ponder the tongue in her room. For hours, she kept replaying the scenes of her encounters with the tongue over and over in her mind.

"It's clearly a hallucination, since that knife ended up messing up my wall instead of any tongue," she thought "But then, why do I keep seeing it? And why just in my room? Why in that exact spot? Is there some weird Freudian excuse behind it or something?"

The sound of her coworkers conversing on the other side of the room acted as a nice sense of white noise. Though, it did not to much to ease Simone's thoughts. However, one word in particular stuck out to her from their conversation: tongue.

Simone jumped in her seat and glanced over her shoulder to regard the adults behind her. She didn't catch what the young redhead boy had said that included the dreaded word, so she had to rely on the burly woman's response.

"That's because cat's tongues are barbed," she said "Though, it beats getting slobbered on by a dog."

The redhead boy shivered "B-Barbed? Like...there are little hooks on it?"

The burly woman nodded "Don't worry. It ain't nothing when it's on a lil' house cat. I mean, Mittens didn't skin your face when she licked ya, right?"

"Still, it's not a pretty picture," shuddered the boy "Imagining dozens of hooks on your tongue...ugh."

"She's fine," reassured the burly woman with a dismissive wave "God wouldn't make creatures that can't handle their own bodies."

Simone grimaced at the image, herself, upon hearing the boy's reaction. Again, she became conscious of how her own tongue sat in her mouth.

Warm liquid slipped past the woman's lips. She reached up, embarrassed, to wipe what she assumed was saliva from her chin. The only time she had ever seen people drool from daydreaming was in outdated cartoons. She was, however, surprised to see a sticky red liquid on her finger.

Simone's eyes widened as she noticed the metallic taste lining her mouth. Her lips parted to voice her concern, but she was struck with a horrible pain. It felt like thousands of glass shards had somehow lodged themselves in the roof of her mouth. Her jaw dropped to scream, but it came out muffled behind her tongue, which was stuck to the roof of her mouth. When it wriggled, the pain worsened and dug deep into her flesh. Specks of blood flew onto the papers before her and dripped down the sides of her mouth.

Simone screamed and flailed her hands in front of her as she felt her mouth get torn apart from the inside. With her tongue stuck, the blood that poured down her throat could not be swallowed. She began to choke on the blood, her panic only worsening the situation. Her throat burned from her coughing and screaming.

"Simone? Hey Simone!"

The woman gasped.

Simone's tongue no longer stuck to her mouth. No traces of blood and or the excruciating pain that she felt were completely absent. Even when she reached up to touch her lips and the roof of her mouth, both were smooth and unharmed.

Beside her, the young boy regarded her in bewilderment "Were—were you asleep?" he asked "You had your head down for a long time."

"I...I did?" Simone gripped the edge of her hairline, eyes vacant in disbelief.

"Another hallucination, huh?"

Simone rubbed her eyes. Shifting from such an intense state of pain to wellness actually made her feel nauseous. Even just remembering it made her feel that agony again. Though, it was clear that it hadn't happened. Her tongue did not grow barbs and tear apart her mouth. That was impossible.

Yet, it felt so real. So terrifyingly real.

"Are you okay?" asked the young boy "Do you need something? Some water?"

Simone nearly vomited at the idea of swallowing something.

"No thank you," she rasped "I'm okay, Steven. Just a little tired today."

The redhead hesitated, but stepped away with a retreating "Okay then."

Simone watched the young boy walk away, using his casual stride to ground herself. She sighed through her nose and returned her gaze to her work.

~@

This story was supposed to be only two chapters long, but I got stuck. This is all I could get down, so I decided to just publish it now instead of waiting until I completely finished. I apologize for that.