Two Little Butt Cheeks Bouncing in the Grass

The only thing that hurt worse than his leg was knowing the box in his pocket had now been destroyed. Lee had carried it for the past two weeks with strict orders that it remain intact. Yet here he was, halfway to his destination, with a sore leg and a partially crushed box.
     Seeing that he could not run from his predicament, and not knowing what else to do, Lee took it upon himself to find a secure place to deposit the item. He settled on a cranny in a weathered wall, attempting to shove the box far enough for it to not be visible. But whatever was inside was too bulky, and, his curiosity piqued, Lee decided to open the container and inspect its contents.
     In it he found a small human figure—a homunculus, in fact—likely extracted from the womb of some helpless woman. Lee could tell, by the fact that it was only three inches tall and visibly emaciated, that it had been removed at an early stage of its development.
     A wave of terror passed over Lee. Extraction of a homunculus before it had completed its full gestation was a high crime, one punishable by forcibly reinserting the homunculus into the criminal’s body. Whether the homunculus was alive or dead did not matter; the purpose was to punish, not to save. When alive, as was usually the case, the homunculus would scream and flail while being shoved into the equally panicked criminal, with the homunculus either drowning in blood or being crushed between convulsing bone and muscle.
     And then the creature in Lee’s hand moved. First it shuddered, and as Lee raised it for a closer inspection he saw two piercing green eyes appear from behind closed lids. The little figure stared at him for only the briefest of moments before opening its mouth and emitting a shrill cry. Lee pulled his hand away from his face, terrified that the noise would attract attention, and as he did so the creature suddenly stood and dove off of his hand. Dropping to his knees, Lee desperately attempted to grab the fleeing creature, but to no avail. All he could see were two little butt cheeks bouncing about as it ran through the grass.

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Zoë Tersche

Freelance writing focusing on internet freedoms and surveillance along with sexuality and gender in media and tech.

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