Bonding - The Tertangala

In the deep woods,

the decaying

and overgrown world,

the twisted vines snap,

frail from whips of wind.

I am consumed,

by the hollowness

of the night.

Here lie

the crystals,

the mild candlelight

and my sacrifice –

a bloody, fluffy

bunny.

Crafted cantations

carved from my carnal craze.

Cracking call

ringing

in the lonesome midnight air.

I shiver

and my pale, bruised skin,

my love-laboured palms

are red.

I blow out the candles.

whoosh

Rise from the earth.

I am yours.

II.

It has been 53 days

since the bunny incident.

I am tragic.

I am undone.

I am without sleep.

My soul’s affliction –

My sole addiction.

You still have not

DM’d me.

I tweeted.

I liked.

I commented.

I shared.

I killed.

Fucking.

Bunny.

III.

3 bunnies later.

I have written

14 fanfictions.

I have attended

11 shows.

I have controlled 7

different fan accounts.

But I know

You

Don’t

Know

Me.

Don’t know me.

I only know me

when I know you.

I am a wreck.

And a bunny killer.

IV.

Tonight,

in the quiet city.

The sky casts

a greying light

over the little houses,

little shops,

little lives.

In the restaurant I work,

candles flicker

their little flames

in glass jars

on red-clothed

Wood.

Crack

The first sacrifice

of the night –

a broken plate.

At the table,

a new face,

a familiar face,

is there.

I didn’t serve you.

I just arrived.

And your voice

is a little too

Australian.

Your hair is

thick and curly

but it’s not

the same.

But your smile is.

And your eyes

are, oh so close

to the real thing.

4 bunnies sacrificed

and maybe you do

not love me.

But maybe he will,

maybe I can make him.

He is not the same as you,

But maybe he will do.

Who are you,

sweet creature?

Kirsten Hammermeister is in her final year of her bachelor’s degree studying writing and English literatures. She cares about community and supporting emerging artists. In her creative writing, she is inspired by vulnerability, youth and the infinite worlds we engulf ourselves in – bound by our words, our minds, our spaces, across time, eternally.

*This was originally published in the ‘Tertangala: Horror Issue’ (2023)