The Guest


Teeth exposed,
rivulets of saliva making their way towards her neck.
A ventriloquists’ dummy,
poised in a silent scream.

Joints, and muscles groaning under inhuman manipulation,
and His seductive whisper,
stop fighting me,
stop thinking,
just let it happen.

Tearing, stripping cherished relationships to the bone.
Nourishing from the damage inflicted,
on those closest to her,
His host.

Every joyful memory,
every drop of trust,
all the love, hope and all that kindness.
Devoured in a gluttonous frenzy of pleasure.

Until all that is left is the fractured,
discarded shell of friendship.
And her wrung out body, sobbing,
released from this catatonia to ensnare more prey.

But now a sparkle on the horizon has caught His eye,
Gleaming.
Apple sweet, and white on white,
playful and open,
and He wants them too.


• Clare Phillips-Barton is amongst other things a mother of two. Living, writing and bumping into unusual types in the Northamptonshire