“Please eat me.”
The man stared straight at the girl’s dark eyes as he spoke those three words. The girl shifted in her chest and looked at him in mild surprise.
“That’s rare. I usually don’t get any volunteers.” The girl pushed the lid on the chest until it was fully open, the lid resting against the wall. “Climb in, then - there’s room.”
The man took a deep breath and stepped slowly across the room. He stopped in front of the chest, and gaped.
The chest was roomier than it looked from the outside - enough room for him and the girl without squeezing each other in. Pink flesh occupied most of the chest’s floor and walls, with the girl’s torso emerging from the flesh pooled on the floor.
“You didn’t think I actually was a girl, did you? Hop in. Don’t mind...all the flesh.” The girl scurried to a corner, her face showing effort. Some of the flesh retreated towards her corner, forming a small flesh-less space and revealing the rough wood beneath.
“Okay, then.” The man struggled to remove his boots, his hands shaking as they undid the shoelaces. He removed the boots and set them alongside the chest.
“Excuse me.” He stepped in, one foot then the other, and sat cross-legged leaning on the mostly flesh-less chest wall. The girl pulled the chest lid closed, enveloping both of them in darkness and silence.
The silence was deafening; the darkness blinding. You know what they tell you about sensory deprivation and how it forces you to enhance your senses or make you more aware? That stuff is true. I’ve never been more aware of my heartbeat, my breathing, the moisture of my breaths, the light fleshy smell, the imperceptible pulsing of the mimic’s flesh...I have no idea how long it took me to be aware of all that, but I did - and if I didn’t know better I’d have thought I was tripping.
The man heard a soft click, followed by a small light illuminating the space. The girl, sitting primly on the other side of the chest, was holding out a weak penlight in her hand, offering it to him. Taking it, he shone the light around the area.
The walls covered in flesh glistened and rippled, the pink color cancelled out by the soft blue light. He playfully poked at the flesh; the flesh thinned and retreated in reaction. He then tried squeezing the flesh in his palm. The girl gave an uncharacteristic snarl, startling him and making him put his hands outward defensively.
“Don’t squeeze it!” The mimic barked at the man, her expression hard and stern. The man put his hands down and murmured an apology. The girl’s face softened, adding, “It’s all sensory flesh. It startled me is all.”
“Right, I’ll keep it in mind.” The man left the flesh alone and shone his light up into the inside of the chest’s lid. This was not covered, and under the man’s scrutiny the wood showed its age; dust peppered the surface, and minor cracks and splinters showed in the wood. He picked a splinter and opened the lid a bit to throw it out.
“Your chest isn’t exactly brand new, is it?”
“No, it isn’t new...But I’ve only had it for four years or so. The person who owned this room gave this chest for me to move into from my older one...I had to.”
“Mhm.” The man yawned strongly. The mimic reached out and tapped the man's shoulder.
“You should sleep. I’m not exactly starving right now, so I won’t be eating you just yet. You can rest your head on my flesh if you need something soft to lean on.”
“Sounds good. Goodnight.” The man leaned his head on a wall of flesh, and he clicked the penlight off. Silence and darkness fell inside the chest once more.
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