This is the third installment in a Valentine’s Day series of shorts by Jennifer Weigel in which unsuspecting lovers succumb to deadly gases. You can read the first two installments here:
Syrah ran upstairs to the playroom where she kissed Ellie on the cheek first, then Squid, and fell into the pink beanbag chair. Squid cuddled up to Syrah. Ellie joined them, filling out the beanbag chair to burst forth with gangly legs and arms jutting out at all angles.
“I wanted to show you the new line of glitter unicorn poop,” Syrah exclaimed as she pulled a magical unicorn horn shaped container out of her fancy-pants pink purse.
Ellie and Squid oohed and aahed at the rainbow sparkle glitter substance, which fortunately bore more resemblance to that rubbery play slime modeling dough than to poop. Syrah had gotten a unicorn glitter poop making kit for Christmas and always brought over her new creations to share.
The trio curled up together in the beanbag chair stretching and squishing the glitter slime like some primordial creature. Syrah pushed and pulled on the form until she had shaped it more or less into a heart. Once she had gotten it to her liking, she smiled. She split the resulting sculpture three ways and gave one piece to Ellie, one to Squid and kept one for herself.
“This is our heart, it belongs to all of us,” Syrah exclaimed. “These are to keep and treasure forever.”
Squid smiled and pulled their piece close to their bosom. “Thank you! Now we can always be together,” they cooed.
Ellie’s blue eyes grew bright and she smiled wide. She tucked her piece of their heart into her pants pocket and pulled Syrah and Squid into a tight hug.
All at once, the trio was overcome with a foul odor, like very stinky feet from playing all day in the pond water in shoes and socks and letting all that moisture build into its own ecosystem. It seemed to come out of nowhere and settled upon them like a revolting cloud. They erupted out of the beanbag chair like it was on fire.
“Ewww, what IS that?” Ellie whined, flapping her hand through the air around her in a frenzy.
Squid smirked, “whoever smelt it dealt it…” They and Syrah giggled.
Ellie stopped fanning the air long enough to shove Squid into Syrah in reply. Syrah shoved back and the trio fell back into the beanbag chair in a heap. They laughed heartily, all the while trying to wave away the horrid smell. The air around them felt heavy and thick, like trying to breathe through the glitter unicorn poop slime, and before they knew it they had passed out huddled together in the nest.
There was no logical explanation for what had happened to the three friends. They were typical kids playing and laughing and goofing off together, and then they were gone. Their parents were devastated. This was the third in a series of deaths that appeared to have happened from suffocation within only moments of one another, and the police were perplexed.
You can find more of Jennifer Weigel’s writing by visiting her website here at Jennifer Weigel Words.