Jamie’s shift was almost over when the call came in. “East wing bathroom. Noise complaint,” crackled the radio.
 

Another night, another chore in a dying mall barely clinging to life. No one ever came to the east wing bathroom unless they were desperate or hiding something.

 

Jamie stepped through the dingy restroom door, greeted by the familiar stench of mildew and stale piss. His flashlight flickered across cracked tiles and graffiti-splattered walls. He moved toward the stall where the complaints always seemed to originate.

 

That’s when he saw it.

 

The hole had been there for weeks, but tonight, it felt different, almost alive. The edges, once sharp, were now smooth, pulsing gently like a jellyfish.

 

A murmur slithered through the silence.

 

“Touch it...”

 

Jamie’s heart raced. He blinked, stepping closer despite himself. His hand hovered over the hole, heat radiating from it. The whisper returned, low, seductive, urging him on. “Just a little closer...”

 

His fingers brushed the edge. The hole shuddered, warm and slick, almost like flesh. A jolt of pleasure shot up his arm. Jamie jerked his hand back, gasping. He looked around the empty bathroom, pulse pounding in his ears. No one was there, but the feeling lingered—a pull deeper than desire.

 

He should’ve walked away. He didn’t.

 

###

 

The next night, Jamie found himself back in the east wing, hand on the stall door, heart hammering. The hole was waiting, larger now, its pulse stronger, more insistent. It called to him, louder this time, a promise hidden in the darkness.

 

“Come closer, Jamie... I know what you want...”

 

Before he knew what he was doing, Jamie knelt in front of the hole. The warmth had grown into something more. His fingers slid inside, and the world tilted. A low moan echoed from the hole, deep and guttural. The heat spread, moving up his arm and down his spine, pooling in his stomach like liquid fire. He gasped, hand gripping the stall wall for balance.

 

It felt too good. Too intense. Jamie’s skin tingled, hot and sleek, as pleasure consumed him. His arm was halfway in, the hole pulling him deeper. His mind screamed at him to stop, to pull away, but his body wanted more.

 

More.

 

His skin shifted, stretching unnaturally. Fingers twisted, bones cracked as they elongated, flesh thinning until it was almost translucent. Jamie stared in horror as his hand merged with the hole, skin fusing with the pulsing surface.

 

But the pleasure—oh God, the pleasure. He couldn’t stop.

 

Jamie’s breath came in ragged gasps as his body contorted, twisting in ways that defied reason. His spine arched, ribs expanding, muscles writhing beneath his skin like living things. His clothes tore, flesh splitting to reveal sinew and glistening tendrils.

 

He wanted to scream, but all that came was a moan, primal, vibrating from deep within. His body bucked, hips thrusting forward involuntarily, pleasure unbearable, twisting with the horror of his transformation. Jamie’s jaw stretched, splitting open along the sides, rows of teeth emerging. His eyes rolled back, vision blurring as his mind spiraled into madness.

 

“Yes... become one with me...” the voice urged.

 

Jamie’s legs fused to the stall floor, twisting into grotesque, root-like shapes, anchoring him in place. His skin ripped, sheets of flesh curling outward, reaching toward the hole.

 

And in the last moment, as the transformation completed, Jamie realized he didn’t care.

 

Jamie’s mind splintered under the weight of pleasure and horror. He wasn’t human anymore. His body had fused with the hole, a symbiosis of flesh and hunger.

 

His arms elongated, fingers splitting into fleshy tendrils, while new limbs sprouted—twisting masses eager to merge with the hole’s hunger. His skin split along his torso, revealing a web of veins pulsing with dark, oily liquid.

 

The hole fed on him, every nerve burning with pleasure so intense it consumed him. His vision blurred as his eyes distended, offering glimpses of the twisted dimension beyond—dark, writhing figures, all mouths and hands, beckoning him forward.

 

Jamie wanted it, wanted to sink deeper, to let the pleasure drown the last remnants of his mind. His groin twisted, mutating, the flesh welding itself to the hole. His body became a writhing mass of need, every pulse sending waves of ecstasy through him, twisting his mind further until nothing remained.

 

With a final convulsion, Jamie’s consciousness dissolved, his identity swallowed by the endless pleasure. His body was indistinguishable from the pulsing, living thing he had become.

 

###

 

You don’t know why you’re here.

  

The east wing bathroom was always the kind of place people avoided. You’d heard the stories, whispers about strange disappearances, and weird noises late at night. But that only piqued your curiosity. It’s after hours, and the mall is practically empty, just the occasional echo of your footsteps.

 

The door creaks open. The lights flicker, casting long shadows across the floor. It’s quiet, too quiet, like the room itself is holding its breath.

 

You see it: the hole pulsing softly beyond the half-open stall door.

 

Bigger than you expected. Almost... alive. It pulses a low, rhythmic beat like it’s waiting for you. You know you shouldn’t go near it. Every instinct tells you to turn around, to walk away, but you can’t help yourself. There’s a pull, a need, something deep inside you.

 

Your hand moves before you realize it. The hole feels warm. Slippery. Your fingers slide across its surface, and for a moment, you think you hear something—no, someone—whisper your name.

 

“Just a little closer...”

 

You lean in. Comfort spreads through you, pulling you deeper, and for an instant, you forget about everything else.

​

D.J. Tuskmor grew up in New England, where folklore sparked a love of horror. By day, he works in cybersecurity; by night, he writes horror. You can find his latest work in Silly Goose Press (Issue 3), the forthcoming Hellbound Books’ Anthology of Splatterpunk 2, and Litmora's Tabi's Flash Tuesdays series. Connect on socials @Tuskmor.