Operating Room Four

The third drawer in the autopsy room's freezer was stuck. When I yanked it open, twenty-seven glass eyeballs clattered onto the floor. They were failed subjects from a 1998 “clairvoyant vision” experiment, each iris marked with a tiny serial number.

The innermost eyeball suddenly moved, and my sister's face appeared in its pupil. She stood in the center of a circular altar, an umbilical cord wrapped around the legs of a bronze cauldron. Octopus tentacles protruded from a gash in her abdomen. As I leaned closer to inspect it, the eyeball burst, and its pus splattered across the tiles, forming a set of coordinates: the location of the altar beneath the hospital. Why was this happening?

My new work is here! You're welcome to check it out on Tomato Novel. I hope you enjoy it. Your support motivates me to write, and I'll do my best to tell every story well!