~after “bittersweet biography 18 frowning rats - a note on bodies and magic” from Dirt Rat Fucker 5 by Lilith Jo Joxepa~

The scene is set, Sea-Witch and <someone> are huddled around a metal table. They are both wearing surgical gloves, masks, & have a tray of surgical tools laid out beside them. It appears to be very, very hot & sweat pours down both of their faces. I am a white rat, pinned to a dissection tray in front of them. I am split open, my rib cage & lungs heaving at the open air in front of a blue curtain.

<someone> prods my lungs with a long metal probe. A small squeak emits from my unconscious rat-body. Sea-Witch & <somebody> are stitching small intricate sigils on the inside of the rat in front of them, they are filling my body with rosemary, cloves, anise, rose petals, lemon peel.

<someone>: When you think of me, do you think of how you can become what I need? Or do you think of how I am or am not what you need? How I might become what you need?

Sea-Witch: I just think of you.

They pull down their surgical masks & kiss.
They are corporeal in this scene.
They are completely androgynous.
They are beautiful.

They replace their surgical masks & return their attention to me, the rat pinned open in front of them.

Sea-Witch: There's something special about this one.

<someone>: There’s a life in here.

Sea-Witch: Two actually.

<someone>: One isn’t much of a life.

Sea-Witch: The first came out of her already.

<someone>: For the second we will need to make a new hole. For birthing.

Sea-Witch: Of course.

<someone>: And fucking.

Sea-Witch: Later, yes, that too.

<someone>: All holes are for fucking.

Sea-Witch: I don’t know if I believe that.

<someone> is leaning over me, forcing a suction tube down my throat. The clear surgical tubing leading away from my mouth fills up with a black, tar-like substance.
<someone>: (softly) This is all they ever wanted.

Sea-Witch: Me too.

<someone>: I know.

Sea-Witch: (softer) I want to hold you through this.

<someone>: (Not looking up. Using the tools to move, cut & sew inside my rat-body) There are so many people you could be holding.

Sea-Witch: (looking at <someone>) I’m holding some of them too. But I’m not talking to them right now. I’m talking to you. It seems more pertinent to talk about my desire to hold you when you are the creature I’m talking to.

<someone>: They will wake up & this will be over. This time will be lost to them & they will come out of it in pain & beauty.

Sea-Witch: & fucking.

<someone>: Eventually, yes.

Sea-Witch: But there are limits.

<someone>: There are so many limits. We’re trying to make fewer limits. I mean sometimes we are trying to make more, but most of the time we are trying to make fewer.

Sea-Witch: Explain it.

<someone>: I can’t explain it.

The next two lines are said in unison at different pitches.

Sea-Witch: When you break the wrong limits you end up a fag.

<someone>: When you break the wrong limits you end up a rat.

Sea-Witch: (removing the suction tube & looking at <someone>) I’m exhausted.

<someone> looks at my lungs. My breathing isn’t labored, despite my current situation. Their sweat drips into my open chest cavity, running down my pumping lungs.

<someone>: It’s too hot.

Sea-Witch looks down at my body. She takes her gloved hand and cups it below her genitals, pissing briefly into it before sprinkling & rubbing the piss onto my lungs, which rise & fall beneath her touch.

Sea-Witch: I hope they come out of this alright.

<someone>: It’s all they ever wanted.

Sea-Witch: Me too.. me too..

<someone>: It’s so arbitrary, though. I mean everyone should get what they want. What they need.

Sea-Witch: I need so much. (A pause.) I know what you mean, though. It all fades away sometimes. It’s just clear & simple.

<someone>: & arbitrary.

Sea-Witch: & arbitrary.

Sea-Witch leans down & breathes gently, her warm air rushes into the open, floral-filled cavity of my rat-body. Wind gusts around the room, fluttering the blue curtain backdrop. She rotates the dissection tray, takes down her mask & kisses the face of the rat (my face), the viscera in the rat (my viscera), the genitals of the rat (my genitals). Her face comes up bloody. <someone> follows her lead, kissing face, viscera, & genitals in turn. <someone>’s face comes up bloody as well.

Sea-Witch gently leans back down & whispers into my ear.

Sea-Witch: All you reject, all you embrace, all you embody. All that makes you monstrous will be their downfall. It will be yr ascension. The ascension of all living creatures. Remember that I love you. It’ll be okay. Some day. Maybe not now, maybe not later. Maybe next birth. It’ll come. I love you. It’ll be okay. There’s only so many worlds until home again.

Sea-Witch stands up straight. She is glowing with a gentle, powerful aura. <someone> is looking at them in awe.

<someone>: Your blessings always make me horny.

Sea-Witch pulls her mask down & starts making out with <someone> intensely. My open body begins to close up in front of them, pins popping free as they kiss & grope. My wound fuses shut on its own, with a slight burning singe. I jump to my feet, briefly sniff around, then run through a crack behind the cabinets.

Sea-Witch & <someone> kiss awhile. Things get more intense. Sea-Witch is sucking on <someone>’s genitals. They’re both sucking on each other’s genitals. They fuck on the messy table. They get bloody. Sea-Witch finds a scalpel & cuts into <someone>’s thigh flesh as <someone> cums loudly. They melt into static. They unmelt from static, briefly, & <someone> is shrieking as Sea-Witch cuts <someone> into thick pieces of meat with the scalpel. They melt into static again. Over the static the words MERCY KILLING appear in large, yellow, sans-serif letters.

End scene.

Moss Angel is a crossgenre writer and book artist based in Portland, OR. They are author of five books, most recently the first two installments in the ongoing Sea-Witch series. Sea-Witch is an impossible gay mythology about living inside a witch god, which can be read online by supporting Moss's patreon: or in print volumes available for sale at