I still am taking rounds of antibiotics and steroids, but the wound on my shoulder just doesn’t seem to want to heal. They say I can have plastic surgery after a few more months, but honestly, before last week the pain flare-ups were way more concerning than having a weird hole near my collarbone. The pain was crippling at first, and while medicine took the edge off, it wasn’t until last week that it began to fade out to something more manageable.

At the same time, the strange dreams began. At first I thought it was a new side effect of the meds, and then I thought it was just a precursor to the flu I seem to be getting. I've tried more medicine and rest, and even lighting candles at every door and window, but I keep getting worse.

When I looked in the mirror this morning, I barely recognized the woman looking back. Pale and gaunt, with thin, white lips that moved restlessly as I looked on in growing horror. There was something in my mouth, and as I opened wide, I half-expected to see a piece of the hard candy my grandmother loved resting on my tongue. But it wasn't.

It was two of my teeth.

Victorian Steampunk Cosplayer Cannibals Just Killed My Wife

I’m not an unreasonable man. I feel like I’m fairly tolerant of others’ odd behaviors and bizarre interests. Maybe I don’t stay on the cutting edge of pop culture, or fringe culture, or whatever other ‘cultures’ exist, but my motto has always been live and let live.

So when a new group started hanging out at the bar down the street, I noted it, but I didn’t mind. At first, I thought it was kind of funny if I’m being honest. Four grown people dressed up in elaborate suits and dresses, complete with hats and capes and all manner of old-fashioned frippery. Well, at least mostly old-fashioned. Because if you looked closer, you would see several strange glints of metal and glass that looked strangely anachronistic in the context of their get-ups. Or maybe anachronistic isn’t the right word, as that stuff didn’t look new either, but it didn’t fit what they were wearing.

Brass telescoping goggles. A glove made to mimic the appearance of a robot’s hand. A face mask that looked like a cross between a gas mask and something I would expect to find in Amsterdam. All very detailed and authentic-looking, if “authentic” is a term to be applied to such things, but ultimately still very silly. So when I passed them the first time sitting in the biergarten of the “fancy bar” on my street, I couldn’t help but let out a quiet chuckle.

Apparently it hadn’t been quiet enough.