Jay tried to rock himself back and forth, this time using every muscle in his body to so. The legs lost the monstrous grip on his waist and tumbled off of the bed to the right, leaving a thick and blotchy line of blood from the bed to the floor. He managed to sit up despite the pain in his torso. He attempted to look way, look away, look away—and found out he couldn't. His eyelids froze at the circumference of his irises.

"Fuck, what fuck!" he screamed. His head turned slowly to the right, downward, and then outward. The sexy legs stood again, and his eyes refused to shift when three figures


scurried into the room.

"Help me!" Jay cried, grimacing at the possibility that he probably sounded like a little girl afraid of the ghouls and goblins in her closet just then. One of the doctors was a woman with short dirty blonde hair and glasses, and she ran straight through the legs as if she was a ghost.

(or the legs were ghosts)

She placed her arms on his shoulder and was face to face with him. He couldn't look at her even if his life and the life of the world depended on it. She repeated his name over and over, but the legs had his eyes under complete control.