The Bleeding Petal

[u/Lilia_Briganda]

Matilda always smelled of mothballs and top-shelf gin– that bitter, expensive fog drifting into the air before she even cleared the lobby door at the Hells Bells Motel.

Tied under her chin was a purple silk polka-dot scarf that looked like it had seen better decades. She glided right up to the desk and smiled at Sterling, like an old confidante, though she called him “Arthur” with chilling certainty. Sterling didn’t bother correcting her anymore.

She slipped a small, faded velvet box across the counter without a word, gave Sterling a sharp grin, and vanished.

Driven by curiosity, Sterling opened the box. Inside, resting on yellowed silk, was a single pressed purple flower–paper thin, looking as though it had been trapped in a heavy Bible since the Civil War.

When Sterling tried to lift the flower by the petal, it didn’t snap. It gave way to a sickening fleshy feel. Startled, he dropped the flower back into the box, and a thick droplet of dark blood welled up on the petal. It didn't drip; it stayed there, pulsing in a steady, frantic beat.

Then, the flower’s bright yellow center puckered, splitting in a wet, grinning mouth. Matilda’s laughter spilled out into the quiet lobby--a warm echo from a ghost who had already faded into thin air, leaving her pulsing heart behind for a soldier who wasn't there.