Welcome to Beach Reads for Goth Kids, my summer series of ooey-gooey horror, best consumed with a tiny paper umbrella. All summer long, I’ll be sending out short stories that pack a pulpy punch. Think creatures of the week, heatwave madness, and things that go bump in the cul-de-sac.
Subscribe so you don’t miss a minute. And be sure to check out last year’s beach reads before they slip behind that pesky paywall.
This week, just when you thought it was safe to go back to the club, we present Meltdown.
When the music stopped the air stopped too.
They put on a background track between DJ sets, something trancey meant to lure people to the bar, or simply to remind those who had tripped the farthest out that occasionally human bodies need to rest. But good drugs don’t care what the music is doing.
When the sound died away, Olive’s face went so hot in the stillness it prickled. She wavered on her feet, and the air around her seemed to shimmer. Space hummed and sizzled, her fingertips live wires. The faces of her friends were shiny ghouls in flashing red lights.
“Do you wanna go outside?” A boy asked, his lips too close, breath hot fire.
She thought he meant for a cigarette and she shook her head no, loosing drops of sweat into the air. She imagined the smoke entering her body and how it would linger and drift, so hot, its vapor film holding in her steaming blood, trapping heat until she combusted.
She felt furnace coals spilling out from the center of her chest, a fiery halo rising from the top of her head.
He put a hand on her and it slid across sweat painted thickly down her bicep. She shook off his hot touch, but there was something sluggish in her movement.
When she looked down, there were grooves in her arm where his fingers pressed into her like dough. She stared at the spot. She touched it with her own fingers and it felt gummy. When she pulled away, something viscous came with her, stretching like a cheese pull.
She felt like she was in slow motion.
“I’m melting,” she said, finding his gaze in the miasma of the club.
“I know! It’s so hot in here,” he shouted over the background beats “Let’s go out and get some air.”
“No,” she said, and the corners of her mouth twitched as she considered the comedy of this misunderstanding. She leaned in close to his ear. “I’m literally melting.”
Her feet were soft inside her boots, and when she looked at them she saw her legs dripping tan over her laces.
“I’m…melting,” she said again, to herself, suppressing a giggle that felt inappropriate.
She wondered if this would be considered a medical problem, if she should ask someone to call 911. But the idea of it made her laugh: some hapless EMT’s trying to pick her up and her body running through their hands like Jello.
A new DJ took the stage, his big white headphones commanding attention. His bass notes crawled up her liquid center and she rolled her head back, loose with dopamine and rhythm. Her forehead dripped into her eyes so she closed them, connecting with the music and the beats and the sweaty slick feeling of turning into butter. Heat sluiced around her like a waterfall. She had become sensation, and what is that if not the goal of dancing?
The music thrummed and beat for minutes and hours. The tips of her fingers drip-dripped onto the floor, leaving strange mauve puddles that the cleaning staff would puzzle over in the morning.
At some point the boy touched her again, wanting something from her she was not inclined to give, and this time they both saw it. His hand plunged into her shoulder like wet sand. He pulled away screaming, flinging jelly bits of her all around.
He looked so pathetic doing that, like a child. She danced and laughed, mouth open to the sky, until her teeth fell out, one by one.
What club is this? I think I've been there.
Why was I totally cool with all of this until the teeth fell out? That's what got me 😂
So excited beach reads are back though!