CONTENT WARNING: THIS IS A HORROR STORY INVOLVING BODY HORROR AND GRAPHIC VIOLENCE ( AT THE END ) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE, WISELY.
Deluge by Solomon Kammer
Elva slept terribly the night of October 12th. She woke at 2 am, 3:11 am, 3:25 am, and finally, 6 am. She leaned over and turned on her soft bedside lamp. Her dog Nester lay in the bed, shaggy black tail thumping greetings. Elva sat up, pulled off her t-shirt, kicked the covers off her naked body. It was windy outside, and dark, and Elva sat blinking for a moment, waking. She brushed strands of Nester’s hair off her breast and as her fingers moved in a whisking motion, she saw a clump of Nester’s hair sitting on her vagina. She laughed. Nester, you are a disgusting girl -said affectionately- you got hair all over me. Elva reached down with her whisking fingers. But the clump did not whisk.
She pinched it and pulled, and yelped. It did not pull off. Elva searched her mind as she walked the few steps to her bathroom- maybe her sweat somehow dried it in place? In the overwhelming light of the bathroom, she ran a washcloth with soap through hot water, pressed into the hair and then, with the cloth, tried- gently, this time- to pull it off. When the hair pinched, she sat down, legs akimbo, and pressed the unwanted toupee in half, looking for something that would be holding the hair in place. Because, she thought, you don’t just wake up at 13 years old having an almost bald vagina the night before, suddenly sprouting thick, black pubic hair. The few pubic hairs she had grown in the last year were light brown, and sparse- maybe four, or five. Elva looked through the hair and realized it was more a dark brown than black, maybe even auburn, soft, and alarmingly thick. When her fingers let the hair fall, having found nothing but skin, the thatch covered her so that she could see nothing of her sex.
Immediately, she felt the hair in her armpit. No, no- but before she even lifted her arms, she could see the auburn hair curving out of the side of her armpit, glistening. Wretchedly thick and long hair sprung out of her armpit, like a misplaced wig. She crossed her arms and grabbed her pits and burst into tears. Mom! She shouted. MOM!
Elva?
As footsteps approached, Elva had a series of thoughts: her mother’s PhD dissertation was due in two days; her mother had not been sleeping and was anxious and overworked; her parents were to host a charity dinner that evening to raise funds for the non-profit started by a friend whose daughter died, and then most damningly- her father was a psychologist.
Elva? Her mother knocked on the door. What’s wrong, honey?
I’m a complete freak! Elva cried internally, and then took a deep breath. Actually, never mind. I kind of panicked about… an ingrown toenail. But it’s fine. It just hurt when I got out of bed.
Okay. Come out for breakfast soon.
Standing up, Elva inspected her trembling, naked body and found nothing on her abdomen, her legs, her feet, her hands, her neck felt clear. She looked in the mirror- and found one more place with the mystery hair, this somehow the most upsetting place of all- her ears. Her tiny, elfin ears now clotted with silky, brown hair, spilling to her earlobes. Oh my god! She began crying again.
Calling Sophie, she tried to think of how to sound not insane. Failing, she opened with a yawling, When I woke up I had like, a giant clump of pubic hair and then I found armpit hair too -sob- and then in my fucking ears!
Her friend, Sophie, a straight A’s goth girl one year older than Elva who secretly had an older boy pierce her nipples, laughed sleepily. What are you on?!
Soph, please. Her voice shook. This isn’t a joke.
Sophie, annoyed now, grunted. You woke me up, it’s barely light telling me you grew hair-
Sophie. Sophie, I swear on our friendship, I’m deadass right now. Please. Her please was begging.
Silence. What the fuck is going on? Are you okay? Seriously, are you on something? You’re scaring me.
Sophie, on our friendship, please listen to me. And she told her again, this time with more detail.
They breathed into the phone together, thinking. Okay… Could- is this a practical joke someone is playing on you?
Elva’s throat was tight and she whispered unsteadily from the floor of the bathroom, where she had wrapped a towel around herself, suddenly cold. No. I thought of that too for a second, but there’s no one- no one’s in my house but me and my parents and it’s locked twice over every night. My mom’s obsessed with that, double-checking doors and windows. Wait- Soph, you didn’t? For a moment she felt hopeful.
Sophie laughed. No, I didn’t, but I mean that would be epic. Elva was crying again. Seriously though, not me. I’m thinking. So no one you pissed off lately, like no feud between you and anyone at school? Or anyone at the church you go to with your parents, like maybe some insane nun has it out for you?
No. Nothing. And what kind of pervert adult would even do this? They’d be risking jail time, I’m 13! Anyway- even if it was a sick joke by some insane nun, it makes no sense because it 100 looks like it’s actually growing from my skin. I looked-
In bright light? Like really closely?
Yes! I looked and there’s nothing. There would be something, like glue residue, and anyway that’s not it, they’d have to get in here and do all this with me still sleeping? And Nester not barking? There’s no way.
As Elva listened to Sophie’s breathing, she glanced at her hand. No! No! She pulled up the other hand, heart racing, a sickening in her stomach, a panic in her spinning head- It was growing as she watched.
Sophie was talking, Elva, Elva, I’m coming over. I’m leaving.
In the early morning hours of the next day, Elva would remember Sophie’s voice, Elva, Elva, I’m coming over. It felt as if no one would ever know her or love her as fully again; and she, Elva, would never know or love another person as fully again, either.
When Sophie arrived, Elva did a nude spin. No more hairs, Sophie assured her. They set on waxing. After Elva’s parents left for work, Sophie grabbed her mom’s waxing kit and set about pasting the goo into Elva’s ears, on her hands, and her armpits. I think you have PCOS, she announced.
What’s that?
My sister has it. She was having all this facial hair and she had bad cramps. I don’t know what else.
Elva felt a wave of relief. So what did she do about it?
The doctor. I dunno. Sophie pulled Elva’s ear upright with one hand and with the other, ripped the wax. Elva yelped and clapped her hand to her hot ear. Ouch! Ouch! The mirror revealed the pain had been worth it- no more hair. Elva felt and heard her heartbeat, loud and lusty in her ear canal. Sophie moved to the next ear.
Soon, Elva was a mass of sore, stinging red spots, blessedly free of hair. She had ripped her labia a bit, and there were pinpricks of blood staining the tissue she held to her sex.
Sophie smiled. Some makeup, and you’re good to go!
After school, Sophie and Elva headed to Sophie’s house. Again locked in the bathroom, Elva undressed and spun. Sophie clapped. No hair! Elva felt her cheeks burn with relief. Still- would she talk to her mom, her dad? No good option. Her mom would over-empathize and probably have a mini panic attack worrying about what was wrong. Her dad would analyze her- maybe he wouldn’t even believe that she had grown this hair. There were no photos. No evidence. Just an ‘overly introspective, highly sensitive, prone to OCD-like repetitive thoughts and worries (keeping an eye on you, had been the consensus) anxious teenager’ with pink ears. Pink, itchy ears. Elva scratched her ears, stuck a finger deep inside a dark tunnel of wax and turned it aggressively.
Her mom it was.
The conversation with her mother happened after dinner, before sunset. With Sophie prepped to answer the phone, Elva had pulled her mom into her room and told her the story- or a version of the story. She had left out her ears and her hands. The armpits and vagina seemed less…odd. Less likely to provoke a strong reaction. Elva’s mother smiled lovingly at her daughter. Darling, she put her short, painted nails on Elva’s thigh. I know you’ve been so stressed out lately. I know this is a really hard time, with semester grades and-
Mom! This is exactly why I didn’t tell dad. I can’t believe you are telling me you don’t believe me.
That is not what I’m saying! I’m saying maybe you are having a stress response. Anxiety can cause bizarre bodily symptoms.
Mom, this was not anxiety. This was- Elva had a stroke of inspiration. Hold on! Hold on. She returned to the bedroom with a whitish clot in her palm, with auburn hair growing from the brain-like clump.
Elva! Her mother turned white.
This is the waxed hair from my armpits.
Oh my god, Elva, I thought that was…
What?
Never mind. Jesus Christ. Give me a minute. Her mother pressed a fist into her gut, took a deep breath, and said wobbly, Okay, let me see.
Elva walked closer, and her mother peered nervously at her curiosity. Sweetie, she murmured faintly, we have to tell your dad about this. I don’t want to scare you but, this is not normal, and it involved your health, and I would be furious as your dad if he knew something like this and kept it from me.
Perhaps Elva had already guessed this result. She was tired. She shrugged and rolled her eyes. Fine.
Her dad entered the room with a large smile. My girls! What is this about? His dark hair gleamed, slicked back with gel.
Her mother looked at Elva, and Elva, hand over her palmful of clotted hair, told her dad the story, again leaving out the breast and hand hair. Her father turned white, and then red, and then white again. He sat down heavily on the other side of Elva’s bed from Elva and her mother. Elva’s mother reached an arm out, held his shoulder. Hal?
Elva’s dad did not respond for a moment. Then, weakly, he asked, what are you thinking it is?
You believe me? Elva asked, surprised.
Of course, he said, almost irritated, why wouldn’t I believe you?
Well mom… never mind. I thought you’d think it was like, anxiety.
Ah. Yes. Well yes, maybe it could be.
They three sat in silence, and the sun went down completely. Elva’s mom stood up. It’s got to be something hormonal, don’t you think? She said to either or both of them.
Elva’s dad nodded, turning toward them finally. I’m sorry Elva, I didn’t mean to be so…shocked. I wasn’t…I wasn’t expecting that, that’s all. Hormones. Yes.
That’s what Sophie said, Elva told them. Her sister has something, POCS or something, and she grew hair on her face. She had to see a doctor.
Well that’s what we’ll do then, her dad put his large-knuckled hand to Elva’s face and smiled at her, no teeth this time. How are you feeling? This was more like her dad.
I mean, okay. I’m really tired, I woke up so early and then right away I found this stuff, and I kind of did freak out for a little bit, until Sophie told me about her sister. I just want to get the doctor stuff over with and figure out what to do. Waxing sucks!
Her mom and dad smiled. Yes it does, her mom kissed her face. Okay, what about tonight? We can’t leave you alone after all this. Maybe I should stay home, Hal?
The charity fundraiser, Elva remembered. Let me call Sophie. Maybe she can spend the night. Her parents are cool about that stuff. Elva’s dad raised his eyebrows but kept mercifully silent.
Within an hour, Sophie was in Elva’s kitchen, waiting for microwave mac and cheese to finish, Elva’s parents were at the fundraiser, and Elva was sitting in the attached living room, watching TV. This worked out like, so much better than I thought it would. With your parents, I mean, Sophie said.
Elva nodded. Yeah, me too. They were both weird in different ways. Like they switched personalities for a minute. But whatever. I don’t even want to think about it anymore. I’m starving!
It’s almost done, Sophie replied, just as Elva felt a jarring pain in her abdomen. She hunched over for a moment, straightened back up, and rubbed her belly. She was really hungry. Another- this one worse, and it sent a shock of pain through her abdomen into her vagina, which then began burning also. What the fuck, Elva said out loud. Owwww.
Sophie, pulling the mac and cheese out, looked over. What’s up?
My stomach hurts. I’m going to the bathroom. Don’t eat all that or I’ll kill you! I’m starving.
Sophie blew on the family-size dinner. Halfsies, she said.
Elva felt a jangling in her abdomen, a cluster of pain signals, confusing and overwhelming, burning, pounding, pulling, both sharp and dull, and her vaginal canal burned like the time she had gotten a yeast infection after a bubble bath. In the bathroom she pulled off her pants and underwear and turned on the shower to block out any crap noises that were surely coming. Socks swinging, she sat on the toilet and heard a plop!
Elva’s body turned ice cold and she began to shake. Her mind insisted on noticing her socks swinging even as she wanted to look into the toilet and knew that it made no sense to stare at her socks, her mind insisted on noticing the lining of the toes bunched and how it looked like a small mountain range, but the next cramp was so painful she doubled over and opened her eyes between her legs, staring into the toilet, directly at a large pool of blood.
She had gotten her period. Oh my god! Immediately she breathed deeply and giggled, even, so relieved- this all made sense, obviously there was some hormone problem that had been caused by her period beginning. Sophie already had hers, and between Soph and Elva’s mom, she knew about painful cramps and diarrhea that often came with a period, pads, and tampons. Okayyy, she whispered to herself. Hm. She’d sit there for a moment and let the most of it come out, then she could clean up and stuff some toilet paper in her underwear until she grabbed her mom’s pads.
The next cramp was so outrageously painful that Sophie registered not only the bald fact of the pain, the nerve endings screaming, but also a rage that this was happening to her. There was no reason for it to be this bad! Her mom’s periods weren’t like this! Sophie’s weren’t! And another wave, so tidal that Sophie found herself on the floor of the bathroom, grabbing her vagina where the burning was now a flame, and this is when she found that the hair had grown back, and worse, worse, much worse now. There was hair all over the inside of her thighs, blood-covered hair, and her ass, hair on her abdomen- she groped frantically- her breasts, her throat- no, no- and her hands, wet and sticky, touched the mat of hair on her face and she shoved her underwear and pants into her mouth and screamed and screamed.
The pain was moving like a river in her blood, now in her thighs, now her feet, her legs, her arms, her neck, her face! Oh my god, her face was suddenly in agony, burning with heat and shaggy with hair so long that Elva could feel it hanging over her shut eyelids, her face was swelling- an allergic reaction? dying, dying- this thought flicked in and out of her mind like an ember, before she was splitting open, her face was splitting like a rotten peach, bursting through her nose and her mouth and her eyes, her eyes were going to pop out of her head and roll on the floor! Her mouth was ripping at the seams, her teeth popping and crackling like tectonic plates, at the same time her back ripped open- she grabbed it- her abdomen- she grabbed it-her feet, her feet were being broken into a thousand pieces and she was walking on the glass of their destruction, her face finally split underneath the axe of pressure and pain and she felt a movement like the pulling back of a curtain of blood, something stepping forward and pushing her face away, the underwear and pants fell out of her mouth as she swooned and shit herself, and a torrent of blood announced her birth.
Elva passed out.
Seconds later, she awoke. She kept her eyes closed, but nothing but total oblivion would hide how her body had betrayed her. She felt the thick mat of hair covering her. She felt the weight of it, the horrible, unfamiliar weight of it over every inch of her skin, the burning itch of it, the stink like a wet animal, a bloody animal. Elva felt the heaviness of her feet, her hands, her back, her face, the strange lumps and protrusions as she lay on the floor, and then simultaneously, how much space her body was taking up, once an island on the bathroom floor, now her legs were forced into the bathtub, her head against the door, her back against the cabinets underneath the sink. And what, what was that sound?
A tinkling, scratching sound. What was there in the bathroom with her? She tore her eyes open and sat up, to see an animal’s feet and long talons scraping the porcelain bottom of her toilet. Elva forced her eyes open to bulging, forced herself to see what this thing was, and she brought her hands up to her face to physically hold her eyes open, and scratched herself. With her long talons. Her. Long. Talons.
Her screams echoed through the bathroom.
Elva! Elva! Elva! Elva I’m calling your parents! What is it, Elva! Elva unlock the door. Sophie’s voice, unbearably loud and shrill.
Elva felt the rage again, this time a deeper and… pleasurable feeling- yes, this felt pleasurable. Rage and self-hatred, power, the power of these things, forcing herself to look into the mirror, to see what there was to see, and what there was to see was a grotesque beast, a fur-covered beast with a long snout and bright, black eyes as large as the moon, a giant humpback of hair and bone, enormous, red paws, and when she opened her mouth, she saw red, and the flashing of swords: white, new teeth, large as a grown man’s fingers. Her ears were enormous and ugly.
Elva could hear Sophie on the phone with her father. She could in fact not only hear everything Sophie was saying, but also her father, clearly, she could hear as if she was speaking to him herself. They were on their way home, blah, blah. Sophie breathed in deeply and flexed her claws, clenched her muscles, which ripped underneath this new skeleton with a strength that pleased her deeply. Adrenaline and dopamine and serotonin pumped through her body, she felt larger by the minute, larger in this space of rage, larger in this space of fury, of desire, of confusion without the need for explanations or ideas or words. The fact of her body; the fact of her body’s power.
She arched her neck back and howled, and it was as if the world had split open.
Elva turned and slammed into the door, which came down like cardboard. She huffed and growled as she thumped awkwardly, still unused to this animal body, into the kitchen, where Sophie sat with the phone in her hand. The phone fell from her hand. She opened her mouth to scream, surely, but no sound arose. Sophie’s mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. Elva felt as if she had once known this girl child, this familiar thing, but she did not care to think about it, she did not think, she smelled- this girl child smelled like blood and meat.
Elva leapt and grabbed Sophie with both her giant paws, pressing her claws deep into Sophie’s rib cage so that they punctured the lungs- Elva could hear the noise and wet gasping of the lungs- and blood sprouted like a fountain from Sophie’s sides as Elva tore her shirt off and with the shirt came Sophie’s left nipple ring and half her nipple, flung across the room as Elva retraced her claws, grabbed Sophie, and broke her neck.
As Elva ate the girl child, she could hear the whining of a creature upstairs, behind a door. This, next. Bones cracked underneath her teeth as she tore into Sophie. And then, something else. What was this?
Elva rose her pink and red jaws and sniffed the air. Something animal, something large. She let go of her body, and moving her head left to right, chuffing, she made her way into the hallway. Something behind this door. She banged the door down. Inside this space, there was a creature, larger than her, lurking in the corner of darkness, a darkness which was not dark to Elva, this new Elva, with her moon-sized eyes. She saw a thing that looked like herself, and she snarled.
The creature, his black hair smoothed back from his face, moved toward her, and in a very soft, very strained voice, said, ‘Elva, darling. It’s Daddy. It’s going to be okay.”
Great story! And apparently I'm pretty gullible, but did not see the ending (until the ending).
fun halloween story! 🎃 👍🏻