Something Crawled up Your--

He didn't know what got into him. That's not just a turn of phrase; something actually got into him.

It started innocently. He overindulged, had too much greasy food. He farted. It stank. Natalie, cosied up next to him on the sofa, retched, and flapped her hand theatrically in front of her face. "Oh my god, Cole," she said rushing to open the window, "Did something crawl up your arse and die?" Her eyes watered, but she laughed. She had no idea.

Cole laughed, too.

Later that night, in bed, he did it again. Again, they both laughed. Sprayed some air freshener, opened a window. "Jesus, Cole, what the hell!" Natalie said between gasps of laughter.

It should have ended there, with Cole mostly eating normally, and, if his guts were off, being considerate to others. Used the bathroom, or gone for a walk after dinner. Apologised. Avoided letting one go in the middle of sex, or while visiting Natalie's parents.

But Cole was in the grip of something that wouldn't let go. He craved the exact foods that would have the poisonous effect on his intestines. It was a compulsion. He gorged in secret at first, still feeling a little shame, maybe. Meanwhile, Natalie was trying to be supportive and preparing healthy meals and snacks. She was getting more worried and nagging Cole to see a doctor... Until she noticed his weight gain. Then she got angry. He stopped hiding and would openly sneer at the healthy food she'd made, then go out and buy something fried and dripping in cheese.

Cole had no intention of going to a doctor. He reached a point where he didn't feel bad about any of it. Part of him knew he was behaving poorly, but the bit that was in charge just laughed with his mouth. Cole likes it. It was satisfying to him, rather than repulsive. That's because it's satisfying to me. I'm the thing living in his gut.

But we hit a snag, Cole and I. Natalie decided he had an addiction, and the best cure was to go cold turkey. She locked us in the bedroom and we starved.

She's not a bad host, though.

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Word count excluding note: 366

Submitted on Thursday 11th July at 21:55

*Quick Author's Note*

First, and most importantly: thank you so much for reading my story! The ha'penny that Vocal will toss in my hat for your eyeballs landing on this humble piece will be well-spent.

If you enjoyed this one, the very best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another!

A Year of Stories

I'm writing a story every day this year. This one continues my 193 day streak since 1st January.


Please do consider lending your support to the other creators who are also on this madcap "a story every day" adventure. They are putting out excellent content every day!

Rachel Deeming

Gerard DiLeo

Please do leave me a comment: I reciprocate as many as I can. Leaving a comment makes that easier.

The story behind the story: To be honest, I just wanted to do a story about farts.

The Image: This is what I imagine the demon/parasite might look like. Here are a few bloopers:

Thank you!

Thank you again, most sincerely. Especially if you are one of the wonderful people who has been staunchly reading these daily scribbles since the start of the year. I see you, and appreciate you very much indeed!

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