50 - The Image of Yig

Anya picked up a candle. She held it in front of her in her right hand, as her left touched her chest.

"There are images on my body I cannot show you. That aren't for the uninitiated," she said softly. "People think it strange that an image could do anything except shock or titillate. Yet what is an image except information? A pattern that your brain, an organic computer, processes. That tells your body's cells to do things. Scientists have theorized about such things—basilisk hacks. Something that hijacks human cognition to do something. What would something like that look like, if it escaped into the world? I call this story..."

THE IMAGE OF YIG

"Bullshit," Callie pronounced with utter seriousness.

"It is not bullshit," Lynn shot back. "You're just saying that because you're scared."

"I'm not scared, it's just stupid. Impossible. There are no cursed videos on the internet. That's fucking J-horror movie bullshit," Callie said. She was in her pajamas, a big girl with frizzy hair and thick glasses, always self-conscious about her shirt riding up to show her soft stomach.

"Then you're not scared to watch it with me?" Lynn said. Lynn, who was thin and spare, the Jack Sprat who ate no fat, total vegan, who always smelled of weed and incense, with her pierced septum and full sleeve tattoos on both arms, dressed in nothing but a hockey jersey and a pair of panties.

"I don't want to watch it for the same reason I don't want to read the Satanic Bible," Callie said. "I don't believe in that shit. I don't want to waste my fucking time on it. You shouldn't waste your time either."

Lynn pouted, her lip piercing pushed out. Which was cheating.

"If it was real," Callie protested. "There'd be proof. People would videotape themselves watching it, and then something would fucking happen or it wouldn't. That's science."

"This isn't science," Lynn said. "And the woman I talked to, she said it only works once. The link I've got is only good for a few more hours. Come on, don't make me watch it on my own."

Callie sighed. The dorm room they shared was small. The hall was empty, every other student having gone home for Thanksgiving.

"Fuck," Callie said. "Fine. But you owe me."

Lynn smiled. She slid one arm over Callie's shoulder and drew her into a hug. She nuzzled the young woman's neck, and one hand cupped Callie's tit. Even through the t-shirt and bra, there was warm, soft flesh there, and Callie bit her lip.

This was as far as they had gotten. Been dancing around it ever since they had been assigned roommates, first day of this semester. Callie still didn't know if she wanted to go further, but if this was any indication, Lynn was offering more.

"Tell you what," Lynn said. "You get to pick the movie next time. Anything you want. Even porn."

Heat rose to Callie's face.

"Just...set up your fucking video," she said.

They made a little nest, backs against the lower bunk, with their pillows and blankets. Lynn set up her laptop on an empty cardboard box they used as a shelf. Callie saw that the name of the video was IMAGE OF YIG.mp4.

"What the hell is a Yig?" Callie asked.

"Not a what. Who," Lynn said. "Yig was a snake-god to the Plains Indians. There are snakes out here called 'Children of Yig.' It's supposed to be bad luck to kill any."

"Right," Callie said, as the video began to stream.

Handheld shakycam. Someone was pointing toward a kind of natural cave or tunnel in the rocks. No indication of where it could be. No audio, either. It was like the opening of any classic shitty shot-on-video horror film. Blair Witch ripoff material.

There were pictoglyphs carved into the rock, as the camera descended into the hole. Snakes. People. There was a kind of Mayan or Aztec cast to the artwork. That stylized, complicated mix of symbol and reality. The sun must have been rising behind them, because more light fell down the shaft, revealing more of the pectroglyphs. Callie found herself watching, suddenly nervous. There was a progression to the images. They were oddly sexual in nature. Snakes or snake-men with human women. Squirming, wrapped around each other. Blatant penetration.

Then, the camera slipped, fell. Tumbled down the stones. Came to rest at what must have been the very bottom of the shaft. The sun slowly rose, the yellow light illuminated an image on the wall. One that must have been carved right here for just this purpose, so that at some time of the year the light would reflect on it. Bits of mica or something flashed in a weird pattern as Callie saw the final figure.

She couldn't fully interpret it. There was something of a fecund Venus figure, and something of a gorgon. The carved snakes almost seemed to writhe and move as the light flashed off the bits of crystal in the stone, the open pudenda seemed to bulge from within, as if pushing something out. Callie's own pelvis twinged in sympathy.

Then, in unison, the two young women grunted in pain.

Callie couldn't look away from the screen. Her eyes suddenly teared up as pain shot through her. Lynn's hand groped and found hers.

"I can't...I can't look away..." Lynn babbled.

"Neither can I," Callie said, and warm tears bubbled out of her eyes, somehow unable to blur the image of horror that grew brighter and brighter as the sun revealed more details.

Callie's stomach squirmed as she felt something move inside of her. Pain lanced through her body, and her thighs drew apart instinctively. Beside her, she could tell Lynn felt the same thing; their knees pressed against each other.

"Callie, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't know this would happen...ah..." Lynn said, voice tight. "It's coming..."

Something pushed, deep inside. A warm wetness gushed from Callie's pussy. She could feel it, deep inside, from where her period cramps came from. The two women grunted, holding hands white-knuckled, as something pushed down into their vaginal nows. Callie's teeth gritted as something hard burst her hymen from within, the sharp pain and burn of her once-virgin pussy being **** open from within.

"I don't want to give birth," Callie said. "Please, God, don't..."

The God that Callie didn't believe in either didn't hear her prayer, or did nothing.

Her panties offered a little more resistance. They bulged as whatever was within her pushed forward. It felt as thick as her arm. After a minute or two, a snout found it's way down her pajama leg. Callie tasted bile in her throat, stomach heaving as she felt the slimy length of it, slick with afterbirth, push its way out.

Then, abruptly, the video ended. Pure black screen. Instinctively, Callie's eyes slammed shut. Her eyes burned, her pussy hurt, her body felt oddly drained and empty. Her free hand, the one not gripping Lynn's hand, came up and wiped away the tears. She **** her eyes open.

A trail of blood ran from each young woman's crotch. The trails of blood led to the dark cave of Lynn's work bench. Two snakes, easily fifteen or twenty inches long lay coiled next to each other, their eyes golden in the darkness. Silent, watching.

Lynn was in shock. Callie managed to rise to her feet, knees wobbling. She managed to pick the other woman up and carry her toward the shower.

"It'll be okay," Callie said, stupidly. Not sure what else to say.

Around the world, other young woman clicked on the link. They watched the video. With the same results. So the legend of the cursed video spread. Every woman who had the courage to warn others about it only added to the internet rumor. No one who had experienced it had the cruelty to expose anyone else to that horror, to share the link. Yet there were people sharing the link. Around the world, the Children of Yig spread, and their sire took **** on anyone who harmed his children.

Anya's fingers drummed against her chest.

"It was difficult to reproduce that image on skin. But there are ways, if you are clever and careful," she said.

"But...why would you?" Latoya asked.

To which answer Anya only smiled, and in the last light of the candle before it was blown out, her eyes looked oddly reptilian.