She looked up at me from the bottom of the hill, and her eyes were wild with panic. Her arm was elbow deep in its massive chest, and gore covered her. The viscous black fluid that was its blood was still pouring in a sheet down its scaly skin. The pulse and volume had slowed, and I imagined its ancient hearts began stopping one by one. It was the largest wound on the body, as long as a house and wide enough that she could have crawled in with ease. Her sobs were choking her words, and I couldn’t understand her.
I hesitated. I moved away from the tree and took a step toward her, but then the colossal body spasmed. Her wrist caught in the jointed web of bones exposed by the long gash. It jerked her up into the air, and her arm went taut with the weight of her body. She winced in pain, and the white of her teeth gleamed against her blood-soaked face. When her feet landed back on the ground, her arm popped free and she landed at the foot of the hill in the blood-soaked mud. She scrambled back to the beast’s side and plunged her arm shoulder-deep back into the wound.
There was a belching noise, and a massive amount of fluid gushed out in a short rush. It was like a flood and swept her feet out from under her. Her petite body draped against its slimy fish skin. Only a grip onto a protruding bone kept her from being washed back into the mud. Her wedding dress, from which I had spent so much time removing a simple tea stain, was stuck to her skin, stained black. Her hair had come undone and was slicked back and matted to her neck. She coughed up some of the oily sludge she had inhaled. It was like she was another piece of its torn flesh, hanging, exposed to the bright sunlight. Her feet kicked and slipped in the mud, but as she gained purchase, she plunged her arms back in.
Her head swiveled quickly back and forth until she caught sight of me again. “HELP ME!” she screamed. Her tears drew white lines to her chin.
“HELP ME!” she screamed again. Her shiny church shoes found a foothold on one of the thousands of fins that lined its underbelly. She was now leaning in, scrambling to find some vital organ that she might massage back to life, but her tiny arms never stood a chance.
I leaned back against the tree crippled with cowardice and watched her struggle.