Avery broke out of his cage again by the time Lyle walked through the front door. The damage wasn’t too bad this time, no deep wounds that he could tell, though it seemed he took a tumble trying to get upstairs to the bedroom on his own. The hole ripped in the couch where he had evidently been rutting into it was evidence enough that he was losing himself without Lyle around.

Too many long hours spent digging had passed for Lyle to pay close enough attention to how much he might have hurt himself, but he could tell from a quick once-over that the blood on the stairs came from Avery’s mouth. All his teeth were still there at least, minus the one that he lost a couple weeks back. That was old news though, just like the marks down Lyle’s back that were finally starting to heal over and kick the infection.

Hardly able to think about anything besides lying down after a night of fruitless effort, he grabbed Avery by his collar and gingerly guided him up the stairs to the bedroom. The blood stains had already settled into the wood long enough that he would need to sand them out in the morning.

“Goddamnit Avery,” he said under his breath. It wasn’t as if it was his own fault, so he knew he shouldn’t be mad, it was just one of Avery’s bad days. His frustration was building more so because of the hitch in his step from vaulting the cemetery fence a couple hours before and the knowledge that he was in for a day of cleaning.

Avery groaned. He couldn’t read what emotion might’ve been behind it though. It sounded like his vocal cords were getting twisted up again, which would mean more maintenance to get him in speaking shape.

Talk about a fixer upper of a boyfriend, he thought. He felt himself smile for a brief moment, thinking how his mother used to refer to the toned muscle-boy as having not much good sense beyond how to stay fit.

“You know, I do still love having to clean up your messes,” Lyle said, looking back into the one clouded eye of his lover. “I’m sorry for getting mad, it’s just been a long night. You forgive me, don’t you handsome?”

Avery’s lips perked up at the apology, the left side still lazily drooping while he pulled together the best smile he could under the circumstances. It would have to do for the evening.

The bed creaked under their weight as Lyle sat both himself and Avery down onto the fluffy comforter, trying his hardest to take pleasure in the tired smile he got from his partner. If the damned brick hadn't been flung so hard maybe Avery would have a better handle on the muscles on his left side, but it was better than nothing. Everything they had was better than nothing, though on days like this Lyle questioned himself if it was all worth it.

With a sudden push to his chest nearly knocking the wind out of him Avery forced him to lay down completely.

“Easy buddy, you’ll break me if you aren’t careful enough. If you wanted to lay down, you just gotta say so.” He regretted his words instantly. Rubbing in his temporarily broken voice was an unfortunate slip of the tongue, one that Avery was clearly present enough to get hurt by. Shakily he lowered himself next to Lyle, spooning his side close enough that even through his clothes Lyle could feel the chill in his flesh.

“I’m sorry. I’m such an ass sometimes not thinking about a thing that comes out of my mouth. I don’t want to give you any more excuses. We’ll get your throat all fixed up tomorrow, and I’ll make you some breakfast and it’ll be beautiful. Maybe we can shower in the morning, get us both soaped up if time permits it, eh?” He glanced down and Avery’s head on his chest, feeling the contractions of stiff muscles that he had grown used to meaning that his boyfriend was laughing, or at least trying to.

With the passing of time, he had gotten used to plenty of new aspects about his partner that were troublesome, but some had their benefits. For one, Avery’s cock was almost constantly erect from the stiffness that pervaded his body, and the sensation of it sliding inside him like a fleshy icicle was unlike any sex Lyle had before his boyfriend had his head bashed in. Not that he had much sex in general before Avery, but it certainly beat any of his dildos. Warmth was overrated. Besides, his own body warmth would spread into Avery’s prick quickly enough anyway. He found the sensation triggered a spot in his insides that was electric beyond belief.

On any other night he would’ve been thrilled by the concept of sex with Avery, but he was in too bad of a mood to consider it. He felt bad for his temper and worse for his own physical pain. Moreso, he felt much too terrible having his way with Avery when he wasn’t completely there. It made him feel like his was fucking an inanimate thing rather than his reanimated boyfriend, the thought of which sent nauseous waves through his guts. Better to wait for him to be more lucid and talkative to get his release.

Avery was already nuzzling against his chest, the dried blood around his lips and chin flaking off onto Lyle’s own mud-stained shirt. Stale air was forced out of his lungs as he shifted around on the bed, tossing a leg awkwardly over Lyle to wrap himself closer. The breaths came unevenly with each movement, a product of motion having little to do with a need to intake air. The dry breeze it created just below Lyle’s face made him think of the desert, and lying on a boulder so hot it would make his skin feel like it was sizzling off. He couldn’t take Avery to such a place though. He had him preserved well enough that beyond basic wear and tear he resisted decomposition, but he feared that taking him somewhere so hot would make his flesh spoil.

The scraping of teeth cold as those on a saw blade on his shirt snapped Lyle out of his fantasy.

“Hold on, down boy. I think we might need to take precautions tonight, just for both our sakes.” Sliding up further on the bed he grabbed a leather-strapped muzzle from the nightstand.

“No.” Avery pushed himself off of Lyle with a spastic jerk. The stitches holding together his forearm nearly snapped from the jarring motion.

Lyle looked down at him, muzzle still dangling in his hand.

“You know it’s for your own good baby, and mine. I can’t take a chance sleeping with you when you’re so strung out, it’s bad enough I’m letting you stay here tonight. I’m sure you’re probably not even getting a half of what I’m saying anyways.” He shook his head, the leather muzzle dangling like a pendulum before Avery’s watching eye.

“Just hold still, alright, then you can lay right back down on me. Do you understand?” He held out his hand towards Avery, a fist all except for his thumb sticking out to the side.

Reaching towards him, Avery clumsily turned it to a thumbs up.

“Atta boy, let me just get you situated.” Taking careful precision Lyle placed the face of the muzzle over his boyfriend’s mouth and tightened the straps behind his head, making sure not to catch any hair in the buckles. Skin he could sew half decently, but replacing hair would be another issue entirely. Brushing a hand across the caved in portion of Avery’s skull, now filled with a copious amount of mortuary putty, he shivered in remembrance of his grief. Shaking it off he pulled Avery into an embrace, letting them both recline onto the bed without bothering to put on any sheets. It was hot enough, and having such a bone-cold partner next to him was like a body-sized ice pack. If he were the type to care more about finances, he would’ve been thrilled by how much he saved without using the A/C. Having Avery next to him was enough on its own though, even without the benefits. Trouble though he was, he was worth it. Grasping in the dark of their room he found Avery’s hand and pressed his thumb, pinkie and index finger against his. I love you, he signed. He still wasn’t certain how much Avery could physically feel but based on the pressure he felt in return he guessed there had to be a little bit at least.

* * *

Guttural moaning beside him woke Lyle the next morning. Avery didn’t seem to sleep anymore, but somewhere in the conscious part of his brain something made him want to sleep with Lyle. He told himself it was remembrance of their time spent together and mutual affection, and not the fact that Avery would crack his skull open to slurp out his brains if he got too hungry.

“Morning baby,” Lyle said. Reaching over he draped an arm over Avery’s chest, his skin prickling with goosebumps from the chill air and motionless, cold body next to him. The lividity pooling around Avery’s neck and limp arms was worsening. Nothing a warm shower and massage wouldn’t fix, Lyle thought.

The shower started as a simple attempt to avoid any unnecessary surgery to sort out Avery’s vocal cords, but any further thought of doing so fled Lyle’s mind as he stripped Avery of his muzzle and the rest of his clothes. The blood around his mouth darkened to an inky black overnight. His teeth were equally stained. The rest of his body, however, remained mostly intact. Still beyond perfect. Even the tightly bound incision on his throat was hardly noticeable and looked more like a tattoo than anything else to the fast-moving eye.

Lyle gulped at the magnificence that was his boyfriend’s perfectly preserved muscles. His skin had grayed considerably and was rife with bruised tissue, but the curves and lines of his muscles were frozen in a state of perpetual flexing. His sculpted shoulder blades and ass put every thought of productivity out of Lyle’s mind for the morning.

He turned the faucet on and brought the shower to sputtering life. “How about you get nice and wet for me while I get ready?” he said.

Avery, quick to comply in his jerky, awkward motion, got under the water, a half-smile plastered over his face. Lyle could tell he was doing better already. His response time was elevated, and he was displaying considerably more emotion on his face, which Lyle realized needed one more thing.

“Just a sec, don’t go anywhere, okay?” He ran out leaving Avery standing in the shower, a pale hand wrapped around his permanently stiff cock in anticipation.

When he returned Lyle gingerly pulled Avery out of the water towards him by his collar. He brushed a hand over his forehead to brush away any stray water droplets. Water on his skin was fine but getting it inside his empty eye socket seemed like a bad idea. Lifting his drooping left eyelid, he slid a glass orb into the socket with a sound like cork being popped. It took a few seconds of fiddling before it finally swiveled around to look back at Lyle with a crisp green iris circling the fixed pupil.

“Much better,” Lyle said, staring at his handiwork.

Putting a hand up to his face, Avery felt around the eye socket smiling. His other hand was still occupied below the belt. “Thanks,” he said. It was guttural, strained, as if a thick slab of mucous and mud were coating his larynx, but it was a word. Lyle smiled too.

“There’s my guy.” He reached a hand up to caress Avery’s on his cheek, pulling his hand away and bringing it to his mouth. Slipping a finger tenderly into his mouth he ran his tongue around the length of it. Absolutely nothing, that’s what it tasted like. No sweat, no oils, nothing to alter the natural flavor of skin freshly cleaned and preserved. Cold on his tongue despite his own mouth being warm.

Taking off his glasses and placing them hastily on the bathroom sink with his free hand, he pushed Avery back into the warmth of the water. Swapping one finger for two, then three, until his mouth was filled with Avery’s numb digits, Lyle grasped his own trembling prick. Stroking it in the same rhythm as his partner he could feel himself pulsing against his hand. A striking contrast between the blazing hot arousal and the lukewarm fingers his tongue was dancing around.

On the verge of losing control already, he gently removed the fingers from his mouth, taking care not to scrape them with his teeth. Tearing the skin on Avery’s fingers would be nearly impossible to repair, and sucking on them was far too nice to give up on. Lyle glanced down between them, his blurry vision giving him a good enough view of their hands working in rhythm, nearly touching but just shy of each other.

Against the urge to rev himself to climax he loosened his grip, instead wrapping his hands around Avery drawing them together under the pouring water. The slickness from the water was only exaggerated on Avery’s tight skin and made it all the more pleasurable for him to grind his cock against Avery’s thigh.

Lyle’s back arched as he moaned against Avery, the subtle scent of moist flesh and his own sweat filling their enclosed space. He wished he could bite Avery, the way he sometimes liked to bite him, but the repairs would be too troublesome. No, he thought, it was much better to just enjoy what he had in the moment than to think about what he couldn’t. On the menu of things he could have, however, there was something else he could do.

“Turn around. Turn around, I want more,” he panted. Avery was more than willing to oblige.

Relaxing his grip on his coldhearted companion he let him face away, bending him over against the wall. The muscles in Avery’s back tensed and flexed against hands. He was enjoying himself for sure if he was getting such an excited reaction. With Avery bent and ready he spread his ass to better access his hole. Another bright side to the living dead thing, not a hair had sprouted on Avery’s waxed body since the incident.

Finding his puckered hole Lyle slid a finger in and out, desperately wanting to be finished preparing to let himself inside. Death had only made Avery’s insides tighter. A liberal amount of lube from the bottle kept in the shower caddy later and Lyle was sliding his cock in and out of Avery to complete and blissful delight. Guttural moans that may have been meant as words, but more likely were just what they sounded like came from Avery as he thrusted into him. Fucking his boyfriend was the perfect flipside to sucking on his fingers. Rather than being penetrated by an icy phallus he could feel the heatless insides wrapped firmly around his cock. No amount of warm water bathing the pair of them could reach deep enough into Avery to make him feel any less cold inside.

Reaching around Lyle took Avery’s cock into his own hand, letting him focus simply on holding himself up against the wall while being filled. A few minutes later he felt himself slipping, unable to stop and only able to mutter frantic praises into Avery’s ears as he came fresh warmth into the numb cavity. Grunts of indescribable pleasure from Avery were accompanied by a slow leak of semen-like discharge from the tip of his cock down Lyle’s hand.

Removing his throbbing prick from Avery he felt around the edges of his widened hole, checking for tears or any evidence of a problem. Nothing out of the ordinary to be found though, just the usual amount of sperm leaking out of him. That wasn’t to say he could tell how things were deeper inside. For all he knew Avery’s guts were like spaghetti from their constant rearranging.

“Good enough for now then gorgeous?” he asked between heavy breaths.

“For now.” Avery glanced back over his shoulder awkwardly, his cloudy eye straining to focus on Lyle in the thick mist hanging in the air between them.

Reaching up to his throat Lyle felt around the incision, massaging the tissue.

“How about we see if we can get your voice working then, huh?” he said. “Maybe next time you can make even more noise for me.”

Avery chuckled, turning completely and locking his gray-blue lips around Lyle’s.

* * *

Lyle was only wearing a set of boxer shorts and an apron while he worked his way around the kitchen. The stairs still needed sanding to get rid of the blood, but with Avery feeling more like himself he didn’t want to waste time doing menial tasks when he could be spending it with him. The aroma of pancakes with a sweet afternote followed him into their living room where he plopped down next to Avery on the couch.

“I know it’s not the freshest stuff it could be, but I really think I outdid myself with the pancakes this time though.” He handed Avery one of the plates before diving right into devouring the pancakes on his own. “I mixed it with strawberry too, our favorite.” He smiled.

The pancakes on Lyle’s plate were topped with a bright red and fragrant sauce of blended and reduced strawberries. Avery’s plate was similarly garnished, though the fruit accompaniment was like a thicker paste, evidence of it being more than just fruit. Taking his time, Avery slowly forked up a mouthful of fruity paste and chewed blissfully.

“You know,” he said, pausing to swallow his bite, “things might be easier on you if you would just let me help.”

“No. It’s out of the question babe, it’s too risky, even when you’re feeling like yourself.”

“But you’re struggling, and you know it, besides it would give me a chance to get out of the house some.”

There’s the motive, Lyle thought. Avery had been bugging him for weeks to let him out into the wild, accompanied of course, but the thought of someone seeing him and what they might do made Lyle’s skin crawl. Besides that, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew he couldn’t trust Avery to be careful enough to go with him. Breaking and entering wasn’t exactly something an uncoordinated lug like him would be good at, and that was even before he died.

“I’ll get it sorted, we still had enough for breakfast today, and I’m sure I’ll hit it big tonight. You’ll see.” He carefully avoided the question of leaving the house.

“But I can’t just stay in here forever, it’s bad enough I agreed to the cage when you’re out of the house, but I need to see something besides our walls. I figured this would be the best bet to get some fresh views even if it’s not during the day. Unless,” he paused, “you wanna go out for real sometime. During the day. Like we used to.”

Lyle cringed over a mouthful of pancakes. Used to. The words always made him sad. Imagining a life before he had to put his boyfriend back together a piece at a time was too painful to think about. Too painful to the degree he decided to agree to something he never thought he would.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, Avery lighting up immediately. Somehow even behind the pale film his real eye seemed to sparkle more than its glass neighbor. “One quick walk to the park, as soon as possible to avoid any crowds. There and back with no other stops or detours. If anyone tries to talk to us you let me do the talking, and we go straight home if they do. And you wear a contact, a hat, and let me put some makeup on you, okay?”

Avery wrinkled his nose at the idea of needing makeup. A silly man if ever there was one, Lyle thought.

“You got yourself a deal lover boy,” he leaned in and smooched Lyle’s cheek. A kiss on the lips would’ve been preferred, but they had agreed Avery would brush his teeth after eating so no brains would accidentally slip out.

* * *

It took nearly two hours before Lyle got Avery outfitted with enough cosmetics that he looked more preserved than normal. His baggy clothes did nothing to accentuate his body, but Lyle figured it would help hide his shakiness. The contact was a slightly different shade of green than the glass eye, but he imagined it wouldn’t be too noticeable. No one should be looking that close at him anyway. He adjusted a baseball cap just perfectly over Avery’s hair to hide the dip in his skull, before finally being satisfied. Standing him up he looked over his handiwork.

“What do you think, hot enough to get some attention?” Avery attempted a spin that was only successful in making him lose balance right into Lyle’s arms.

“Oh yeah a big klutz like you is going to get lots of attention, I’m sure.”

“You sure all the extra stuff is necessary? It feels a little much. And the contact itches.”

Lyle pulled Avery down by his collar to bring him closer. “Trust me baby, we don’t want any trouble. This is for the best if you want to try and go out.”

“Fine. God I can’t wait to feel the sun, I’ve spent way too much time stuck in here. I wanna catch some rays again.”

By the time Lyle was unlocking the door Avery was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

“Easy buddy, we don’t want to catch any attention. Just be cool, we’re just two guys going on a walk together. Nothing suspicious.”

For the first half of their adventure nothing at all came between them and a nice walk hand in hand. To all the world they looked like two happy men in love walking hand in hand. The fact that one of their hands was significantly colder than the other was a fact that only made Lyle nervous, though he knew no one else could tell. It wasn’t until their way back that they ran into Ronny.

“Lyle, is that you?”

Lyle turned around, the voice making him physically sick to his stomach. Ronny, their just-a-few-houses-down neighbor, seemed to just be going out for a stroll too. If his full running track suit wasn’t bad enough the gold cross shimming in the sunlight spoke volumes about his personality.

“Hi Ronny,” Lyle said, his voice bland. Placing his back against Avery’s shoulder, he only hoped it was a good enough sign for him to face away from the rapidly approaching man.

“Are you doing okay? Last I heard something went down a few months back, some kind of riot or the like. I don’t know, I don’t keep up with that kind of news, but I heard through the grapevine that your, umm, domestic partner?” He felt his way around the words. Lyle could feel his pancakes coming back up in his throat. “Got into some kind of accident. Really tragic stuff. But I guess that’s all stuff and nonsense if I’m not mistaken about that being him over there?” He pointed at Avery.

“Uh, yeah, if by riot you mean protest, sure. And he’s just not feeling well right now, so we were just headed home. Really nice talking to you though Ronny.” Lyle quickly turned around and put his hand on Avery’s back, urging him forward and trying to keep him from staggering too much. The sensual dip just above his waist did little to help how terrible Lyle felt about the situation.

“I thought you said not to act suspicious?” Avery said, a little too loudly.

“Just keep walking. Almost home.”

When they finally reached the door, it took Lyle all he had to not break down in a panic once the door was shut behind him.

“Hey, hey you’re fine. We’re both fine. See. I’m safe, and you’re safe.” Avery tried to comfort him, placing his hand on Lyle’s chest, and his on his own. He eased him into the living room on the couch.

“He’s going to get suspicious, and what if he looks it up and sees the crime report and your death certificate?”

“How would he get ahold of those?” Avery asked, not seeming to know the answer one way or the other himself.

“I don’t know, but if he does, he’ll know something’s up. And if he knows something’s up then. . .” He glanced watery eyes at Avery.

“Wait here. Let me help.” Avery got up, taking off his jacket he covered himself with outside and wrapping it around him.

“No, you rest. I can handle it. You don’t need to do anything.”

“Please,” he said. “You do everything else, let me try.”

Stunned by Avery’s firm handling, Lyle sat, waiting for him to return. In the few minutes of idle worrying that he waited, he managed to calm himself, until the click-clack of the front door opening set his brain ablaze with fear. He forgot to lock it.

“Hello? I hate to be a bother, but the door was open, so I just let myself in, where are you guys at?”

“Fuck me,” Lyle said, rushing to the entranceway.

He nearly bumped headfirst into Ronny just as he was turning his way into the living room. Nosy as ever.

“Oh, there you are. Sorry for the intrusion but the door was unlocked. Are you okay?”

Flustered, Lyle stumbled over trying to form the right words with his lips. He could feel his face turning visibly red.

“I’m fine!” he said, loud enough to get Avery’s attention and hopefully alert him to the danger.

“You don’t look fine. Honestly, I had the sense that you weren’t exactly being honest a bit ago, but I could tell something was troubling you.”

Over Ronny’s shoulder he saw Avery walking through the opposing doorway with a cup of steaming tea in hand, no contact in his left eye anymore, and his makeup smudged every which way from his blunt hand rubbing. Evidently his eyes altered Ronny, who turned to look at what was behind him. Avery gave a gray handed wave with an awkward half smile. Without his hat and coat the dip in his skull was evident along with how pale, splotchy, and put back together the rest of his skin was. Even the suture on his throat was on display, and at such a close range of examination there was little chance Ronny couldn’t tell it was real.

“What? Are you? Is he?” Ronny’s words ran together as he looked back and forth between the pair of them, before his eyes settled dead ahead on the tall steel construction that was Avery’s cage when he was left alone.

“Listen Ronny, this isn’t a good time I’m going to have to ask you to just please leave,” Lyle urged him.

“What kind of twisted nonsense is this, Lyle? What’s wrong with him? And why in God’s name do you have a cage in your living room? I know you were a little funny of a person, but I tried to be decent. To look past it. But this is sickening. You’re right, I need to go. Go and get someone else to put a stop to this. You need help Lyle.” He turned towards the door in an attempt to flee.

The sound of ceramic shattering and liquid splashing was quickly followed by the door slamming shut. Avery stood beside it, his hand firm on the wood and his dead face more stern than Lyle had ever seen it before.

“Nope,” he said, his voice low and growling.

“I said let me out demon! In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to let me out!” Ronny tugged on the doorknob to no avail as Avery reached out and took him by the arm. “What are you?” Ronny said, his eyes staring into the cloudy white orb that remained of Avery’s eye.

“Avery what are you doing?” Lyle pleaded.

In the moment of distraction Ronny broke free of the tight fist around him, pushing his way towards the living room. Lyle countered, backing up slowly trying to de-escalate the situation.

“Ronny please, he didn’t mean it. You can just forget this, right? Like it never happened. We’ve been good people here. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“No, I don’t blame you, Lyle. It’s not your fault it’s like this, it’s demons like that thing that need cast out. Just pray with me Lyle, God can forgive you for this transgression.”

In fit of religious panic Ronny began spewing praise between Lyle and Avery, grasping his cross and stroking its length as if his movements would somehow bring God’s vengeful spunk down on all of them. Within moments a long, low growl silenced him, as both he and Lyle looked over to see Avery looming in the hall. Seeing his prayers fail him Ronny took the only other course of action he could think of. Shoving Lyle out his way with force to get across the room away from the snarling figure.

Within a moment Lyle felt his heel catch on the back of the coffee table as Ronny blew past him, time slowing as he fell without control until his head made a resounding crack against one of the cage's steel bars. Images quickly came to him in a flurry after the blow. Ronny flew past him. The sound of the window breaking as he defenestrated himself in an attempt to flee. The sight of Avery dragging him back through the shattered pane. Screaming. Then nothing at all.

* * *

The overwhelming smell of burning pancake batter woke Lyle from what felt like the haziest dream he had ever had. Avery’s jacket was still tucked around him. Great, it was just a dream then, he thought. The thought lasted for only a few minutes. Shoving the jacket off he expected to feel even the littlest bit cold after being wrapped in a weighty hoodie, but to his surprise there was nothing. He didn’t feel the breeze blowing onto his skin from the shattered window across the room, nor did he feel the floor under his feet. There was pressure, but it was dull. He tried to swallow but felt his own tongue catch in his throat, sticking as if his taste buds had turned to sandpaper. To his own shock and horror, he didn’t even feel phased by it. Coughing, he dislodged it enough to try and breathe again, only to discover his breaths felt forced, and that standing completely still he didn’t need to breathe or move at all. He wished he could say he felt cold, but truthfully his body felt numb. His sense of smell on the other hand was still strong, and among the various scents of cooking coming from the kitchen he was met with another unfamiliar smell that made his stomach seize with anticipation.

A few uneven steps later he made his way through the kitchen door.

“Hey handsome.” Avery said, his crooked grin shining. “Wanted to make you something nice. Strawberry, our favorite.”

On the table that Avery had been fussing over Ronny’s severed head was plastered neck first onto the wood, bits of jagged skin draped out from it like streamers. His eyes had been gouged out leaving nothing but white gunk dripping from the holes. The top of his skull looked as if it had been half sawed and half wrenched off, leaving his brains exposed to the room like a Halloween decoration. The normal gray tissue was dyed a bright red, with syrupy juice and tiny flecks of strawberry flesh sliding around the grooves and crevices.

Ignoring the caked blood dried to the back of his hair, and the fact that being dead made him feel so alive, Lyle took the spoon being offered to him and scooped a sizable lump of brain from Ronny’s cranium. With his own eyes clouding over to match Avery, Lyle smiled wickedly and they kissed, reveling in the taste of strawberries and brain matter.

Ri Stypula is a writer of weird queer horror who once almost became a mortician. Their work has been published in Ghoulish Tales and they have read for both The Skull and Laurel magazine and Cat Eye Press. They have a BA in English from Seton Hill University and live in Greensburg PA with their partners.