1, 4, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19
1 Who would be first to to bite down and consume the flesh of the other, euphoric in the taste and the heft and the slide of the blood
They bite each other in tandem, like two parts of an ourouborous, tails twitching, teeth itching. They're pressed up close, chest to chest, biting the other's right shoulder. They have to bite down hard enough for the skin to give and bleed, and moan in unison as teeth penetrate. It tastes like all that is unholy and salvation at once. They've never felt like this before. The meat creaks between human incisor and animal fang. Soft, soft, hot and sweet. They lick at each other like cats at spilled milk. And then they kiss, and the flavour of them mixed between their tongues.
4 when the roles are blurred or reversed who would be first to die and how? would it be by bulletwound? the phallic blade? strangulation?
In the worst possible version of the story, they never meet. In another version, Scarab kills Maggot the first time they meet. In another, Maggot dies in the Zone - alone and scared.
The roles reverse when Maggot shoots Scarab back. It's bulletwound. That's the only way they could ever kill each other. Everything else is just sex - knives and hands strangling. The roles blur before righting themselves while Scarab recovers, gives himself up to clever hands that nurse him better and dig into the fresh scar all in one. Maggot, drunk on power, biting and scratching and owning.
It's a willing sacrifice, a wolf that's a lamb that wants to be eaten. And Maggot, despite his demure nature, is no rabbit, is no animal of prey. He's a hunter too - something patient that waits for you to walk into a clever trap. Something that makes you want to be eaten once you take a bite. A role reversal at the last moment. So - is it planned? Is it premediated? Is it real? Does it matter?
When this wolf meets this other predator, when he pulls him out into the open, makes him bare himself... that is when he dies and is reborn.
14 And if the dog bit back?
A puppy that bites you only when you put your hand between its teeth, and even then, only as play. Politely playful. But you can never quite let down your guard and believe it will grow up to be a kindhearted dog.
15 and if the dog bit back?
A wolf that prowls the woods, seeking something, anything, to fill its belly. A wolf that wants nothing more than to gore you and eat you.
16 and if the dog bit back?
They're both dogs, locked in a fight. Biting at each other, but more furiously at anyone else who might like to intervene. There is blood, and bone shines through the wet wounds. Still, they cannot stop. It's the most important thing they've ever done.
17 and if the dog bit back?
The bigger dog, the more vicious dog, holds the other dog's throat in its jaws. Bite down, he thinks. Bite down. But he cannot. The dog under it is still and content. It is not afraid. Bite me, he says, what a wonderful way to go.
18 and if the dog bit back?
The dog does, eventually. But it's a mutual decision. Strong hands guide the muzzle of the gun to where it will be a perfect mirror image. Shoot me, shoot me, shoot me. Make me yours as you are mine. Lick my wounds as I should have licked yours. Forgive me love, because I did not know then what I know now. That I want you. That I would give everything to you. That you hold me in your hands, body and soul and blood and bone.
19 and if the dog bit back?
Just a nip, a reminder of that epic fight that seemed to last forever. They are both victors and both losers. The score is settled. Just teeth on familiar territory. Your hand, your fingers in my mouth, tracing against my teeth.
Just a nip, not enough to even leave a mark. I'll bite your tongue, you'll bite my thigh. I'll drag my incisors over your throat and you'll pull me in closer against your body.
The puppy grew into a hound and it sleeps with the wolves out in the wild. The wolf is fed. The hound knows how to bite impolitely.
All is well. For now.
