I found two of them. One, a female, rode in the skin of a Stegosaur, emerald green with its spinal plates bone white. The other, a male, was nothing less then a Tyrannosaurus Rex, the Lizard King himself (very expensive). They were duking it out in a clearing in the forest. Three gashes on the Stegosaur's right shoulder bled bright red, and a shower of red droplets sprayed from that leg whenever she moved. But the girl fought well. She had assumed the defensive "U" shape, her tiny head and spiked tail-club forming the two ends of the "U". As the Rex circled she turned so that head and tail both pointed towards him. He lunged forward and the tail-club flicked up to catch him under the jaw. Bone and blood sprayed out from the meat- eater's neck. He backed away, shrieking in anger, and began circling her again, more wary this time.

I decided that I was going to take out the Lizard King and rescue this girl. But I decided to crouch in the bush awhile and wait until the King had his back to me. The girl, however, ruined my plan. Just as I was making my move, her gaze flicked past T. Rex towards me sprinting forward and the Rex, suspecting, turned at a slow rumble. My horn, aimed at his lower back, struck a glancing blow off his leg instead and snapped away. I slammed into his knee-cap like a midget giving a head-butt. I found myself collapsed on my side, the world spinning around me. My ears rang, and I felt like throwing up. As always, I marvelled at how much it hurt, how real everything was.

Dinosaur World is renowned for its simulation of pleasure and pain, especially pain. When my senses finally cleared I thought for a moment that I was lying under a hot rain, but it was the Rex standing over me, drooling on me. About five feet away from my head and twice as thick was one big clawed foot. It would go up, I thought, and then come down in my face, and that would be the end of it. Through my agony I felt a hard pang of self-disgust. I had just blown two days wages in twenty-five minutes, and all over a girl. And my design, my horn, was useless, a total wash- out in the Evolutionary Scheme. I truly deserved to have my head stomped.

But then, in the sky above the Tyrannosaur's shoulder I saw what looked like the head of a mace. It moved in a downward arc, disappearing behind the bulk of the Rex. There was a meaty thump and blood sprayed over his left shoulder. He screamed, turned on his heel, and charged stupidly towards the Stegosaur. The girl retreated slowly, warding him off with sharp blows from her tail club. But he was frantic this time, working forward and using his size to press closer and finish it off. I staggered to my feet, groggy and clumsy as baby Bambi. Nevertheless I moved after them, because I knew I wouldn't get another chance. And as I gained speed the picture steadied. I felt stronger and I leapt high, sickle-claws kicking out in front of me, aiming at the Tyrannosaur's head. I ripped his throat out through the back of his neck.


Cathy stands at the top of the stairs, peering into the darkness below. She knows she cannot win the battle ahead. She will surrender. But she can at least cut Joey with a slice from the hair-brush. Every scar he wears proves that he belongs to her, and her body waters to think of them.

So, step by step, the girl descends.

Joey takes Cathy when she strays in front of the basement couch. In the dark she cannot see him hidden behind it, or climbing over it, and she feels nothing until his hands reach around her chest and pull her towards him by the boobs. She squeals happily but Joey sticks his dink into her bum and she shrieks. The hairbrush cracks him across the forehead. White lights burst before his eyes, and he withdraws with a sorry grunt. Still, the hair-brush smacks him a second time, right over the eyebrow. He feels a cut open and blood begins dripping into his eye.

Cathy stiffens and kicks at his ankles. Joey holds her close and takes the kicks, absorbing her hot fury. He kisses her on the back of the neck and the shoulders, and begins running his tongue along the lines of her shoulder blades. Gradually the blows lose force, and finally she is limp in his arms. Joey lifts Cathy off her feet and places her on the couch. She crouches there, knees up on the seat, her head resting on her arms and her arms folded across the top of the couch. Joey pulls her towards him by the hips and enters her from behind. The girl moans. Joey bends over her and bites into her shoulder, burying his teeth in the soft, white skin, and at this she makes no sound. Blood trickles down her back as they begin to move together, his teeth locked into her, doing it as the reptiles do.


While T. Rex lay upon his side, choking slowly on his own blood, the girl began whipping him across the face with her tail-horns. She continued on him even after he had died. The Rex had been, I found out later, an abusive ex-boyfriend who had stalked Cathy through the Mall and into Dinosaur World .

We left the corpse and walked through the magnolias together. When I looked into the girls' eyes I could see a deadly seriousness there--a laser beam of Destiny directed at me . "The light of Love," I caught myself thinking.

There in the forest Cathy lay down on her side, and her eyes implored me.

She let me tear her to pieces.


M.J. Murphy
M. J. Murphy of Toronto has been published a number of times in both print and online formats. One of his stories was anthologized in On Spec: the First Five Years, a collection of Canadian SF from the magazine On Spec.



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