it, the meat, the thick coagulated blood staining the lino staining the carpet staining him staining everything.
“… Could’ve at least kept it in the freezer,” he said, after a while, in a very small voice. “It doesn’t seem to have… kept very well.”
He swallowed, and decided not to check the freezer.
He found himself thinking about the way the Flatmate had eaten the KFC, a week ago, skewering the bits of meat on its fingernails and swallowing it in greasy chunks. When it ate people did it do the same thing…?
He forced himself to think about something else, and started thinking about how it was funny that there was so much blood contained in a human body – his body, say, just for example – and how very much he would prefer it stay in there, nice and safe where it belonged, instead of getting silly ideas and going off to do exciting bloodish things like stain the carpet and attract flies just because some claws as jagged and sharp as rusted nails were kind enough to liberate it from his skin.
Who knew how long the maero would stay away? Who even knew why ? This thing climbed out windows and ate humanmeat, it didn’t think like people did, it – it could do anything –
“Lovably fearless,” he reminded himself. He went back to the window, and he picked up the knife. Looked like he’d have blood on his hands whether he wanted it or not.
He wished Noah was here.
Barely a minute later there came a heavy thump, like something had dropped onto the ledge outside the window in the lounge. Saint swore and leapt for the window and snapped it shut. Yellow claws scraped at the glass. A deep voice roared.
Saint waited.
A human hand knocked at the window, quite politely.
“Kia ora,” Saint said, loudly enough to be heard.
His – its face appeared at the window, such a human face, with a smallish pimple near its hairline and hollows under its eyes from staying up late. It seemed so very human. “Saint? Let me in!” it called.
“Shan’t. You’re mythical. Not even that! I’ve never heard tales told of the great mystical building-clambering weirdo freakgiants.”
“Let me in, Saint,” the maero said, and it sounded human. Saint remembered the moment when he’d seen the maero as both things at once, its human disguise and its terrifying reality; he could look again, probably, see that again, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to at all. Part of him still thought that all this must be a mistake.
“Let me in,” the maero said again.
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
“Are you all right?” it said, voice dripping with concern. “You were acting strange. I thought you might not be all right.”
“Well, I saw a giant who also happened to be ugly as fuck, so yeah, I probably acted strange. And I mean seriously ugly, by the way. Like, damn, have you ever even gone to a hairdresser? Or would you just eat them? ‘Hello sir would you like a free lollipop, no, oh you’d rather eat me, all right then.’ Because that’s not very polite.”
“Let me in, Saint. Freaking out’s natural but come on, think what you owe me. Let me in. Let me in.”
Saint wished he’d heard about maero at any point ever, so that he’d have stories to draw on – know what their weaknesses were, or their habits, or how to placate them. As it was he just had to go with what he knew. “Hell no, you’re gross,” he said. “You look like an ape or something, what’s up with that? New Zealand never even had apes.” Maybe that was what the whole climbing around thing was about! Maybe it missed trees. Trees and slaughtering people.
It said something else, but it was too muffled for Saint to hear it, an edge of growl in its voice. Saint put his back to the window and braced himself against it. The maero pushed at the window, rather feebly. It was weak, probably because it was pretending to be human, and Saint could set his legs against the floor. There was no way a pane of glass would keep it out if it went full
“… Could’ve at least kept it in the freezer,” he said, after a while, in a very small voice. “It doesn’t seem to have… kept very well.”
He swallowed, and decided not to check the freezer.
He found himself thinking about the way the Flatmate had eaten the KFC, a week ago, skewering the bits of meat on its fingernails and swallowing it in greasy chunks. When it ate people did it do the same thing…?
He forced himself to think about something else, and started thinking about how it was funny that there was so much blood contained in a human body – his body, say, just for example – and how very much he would prefer it stay in there, nice and safe where it belonged, instead of getting silly ideas and going off to do exciting bloodish things like stain the carpet and attract flies just because some claws as jagged and sharp as rusted nails were kind enough to liberate it from his skin.
Who knew how long the maero would stay away? Who even knew why ? This thing climbed out windows and ate humanmeat, it didn’t think like people did, it – it could do anything –
“Lovably fearless,” he reminded himself. He went back to the window, and he picked up the knife. Looked like he’d have blood on his hands whether he wanted it or not.
He wished Noah was here.
Barely a minute later there came a heavy thump, like something had dropped onto the ledge outside the window in the lounge. Saint swore and leapt for the window and snapped it shut. Yellow claws scraped at the glass. A deep voice roared.
Saint waited.
A human hand knocked at the window, quite politely.
“Kia ora,” Saint said, loudly enough to be heard.
His – its face appeared at the window, such a human face, with a smallish pimple near its hairline and hollows under its eyes from staying up late. It seemed so very human. “Saint? Let me in!” it called.
“Shan’t. You’re mythical. Not even that! I’ve never heard tales told of the great mystical building-clambering weirdo freakgiants.”
“Let me in, Saint,” the maero said, and it sounded human. Saint remembered the moment when he’d seen the maero as both things at once, its human disguise and its terrifying reality; he could look again, probably, see that again, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to at all. Part of him still thought that all this must be a mistake.
“Let me in,” the maero said again.
“Ain’t gonna happen.”
“Are you all right?” it said, voice dripping with concern. “You were acting strange. I thought you might not be all right.”
“Well, I saw a giant who also happened to be ugly as fuck, so yeah, I probably acted strange. And I mean seriously ugly, by the way. Like, damn, have you ever even gone to a hairdresser? Or would you just eat them? ‘Hello sir would you like a free lollipop, no, oh you’d rather eat me, all right then.’ Because that’s not very polite.”
“Let me in, Saint. Freaking out’s natural but come on, think what you owe me. Let me in. Let me in.”
Saint wished he’d heard about maero at any point ever, so that he’d have stories to draw on – know what their weaknesses were, or their habits, or how to placate them. As it was he just had to go with what he knew. “Hell no, you’re gross,” he said. “You look like an ape or something, what’s up with that? New Zealand never even had apes.” Maybe that was what the whole climbing around thing was about! Maybe it missed trees. Trees and slaughtering people.
It said something else, but it was too muffled for Saint to hear it, an edge of growl in its voice. Saint put his back to the window and braced himself against it. The maero pushed at the window, rather feebly. It was weak, probably because it was pretending to be human, and Saint could set his legs against the floor. There was no way a pane of glass would keep it out if it went full
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