The fridge door, ajar, opened with enough force that it banged into the wall. What lunged out was far larger than the space that contained it. A tongue but with elbows segmenting it. A length was covered in transparent skin, and the contents looked like a collection of babies, visible as shadows through a translucent skin.

Parian fended it off with cloth. It grabbed the cloth, then surged—not moving forward, but by growing new segments in a strategic way. It caught her around the face.

“No!” Foil shrieked. She leaped over the counter, rapier in hand. She was slower than Chastity.

Chastity’s hand glowed as she slapped the base of the tongue, close to the fridge. Nothing.

“It doesn’t feel anything!”

“Then get back!”

I flew in, keeping to the ceiling so I didn’t get in anyone’s way. Parian was pressed against the wall, her legs kicking, heels skidding against painted surface. Her cloth and hands found no purchase, pulling away loose tissues like layers of placental sac.

Foil’s weapon severed the creature. I caught Parian, one arm around her body, the other hand seizing her jaw, hard, because there had to be three hundred pounds of mass latched on, and if that fell to the ground in the wrong way, it would have snapped her neck.

Either way, the landing was violent enough that a trap in a cabinet we hadn’t yet reached snapped to life, punching spikes through a door.

My grip shifted to a two-handed grip on Parian’s head, fighting as the Nursery-beast flopped around violently, like a snake with its head cut off. It maintained its grip, and Parian’s body was arching under me, fighting violently.

I could have thrown up, just being near this, knowing what was happening. The fact I couldn’t bring myself to inhale or exhale, or to do anything except strain was maybe the only thing that kept me from vomiting.

Foil slashed the thing that was flopping around, cutting it in half, meaning I no longer had to worry about one wrong flop snapping Parian’s neck or tearing her head off.

I allowed myself to look. What had Foil been doing? Dealing with the stump that had been trying to crawl from the fridge. Rain had that now.

The task at hand changed. I made room for Rain as we gathered around Parian. It took two of us to pry it away from her face. Three to heave it back, to pull out the strings and knots of flesh that filled Parian’s nose and mouth.

At her ear, a tiny umbilical cord threaded to a calloused, quarter-sized lump of flesh with a nascent leg attached. At her nose, a hand was extended from a nostril, fingers twitching.