Good
lord, what am I doing here?
This
place is dark and scary, filled with strange creatures. I feel like Brad and Janet wandering
haplessly into the Frankenfurter’s castle.
Like I walked into a Jen Pelland reading when I was looking for Vonnie
Winslow Crist.
You
see, I write warm, uplifting, anti-dystopian stories which range from the
gentle and whimsical to the soaringly idealistic. I infuse my work with a sense of humor, and I
prefer to leave my characters discreetly at the bedroom door, averting my gaze
from their intimacies with a slight blush.
I don’t write erotica, and I certainly don’t write horror.
No,
wait, that’s not quite true. Once I
wrote a story called “Chimera.”
It
was about Morgan Kaiser-Caine. They—and
I don’t use the pronoun simply to be genderless; Morgan is indeed two people in
one body—has a medical condition called tetragametic chimerism. Twins fused in the womb, united into a single
body. Test the DNA from a drop of blood,
and you would find one. Analyze a sample
of liver cells, you would find the other.
Two beings occupying the same space, two minds occupying the same brain,
awash in the same chemicals, understanding the same things, the cells of one
intimately pressed up against the cells of the other in perfect cooperative
harmony.
In
Morgan’s case the two persons are male and female. The result is an exquisite
hermaphrodite. Unique in that, unlike
most hermaphrodites, both sets of sexual organs coexist, fully functional. A divine freak. Beautiful, brilliant, eloquent, and united
against a world which has relegated them to the role of sideshow spectacle and
scientific curiosity. They need allies. Not merely to survive, but to overcome. Because they have deduced that they are the next
enormous step in evolution, the ultimate resolution to the battle of the
sexes. They are the progenitors of a
race that shall replace monosexual beings.
By
force if necessary.
This
is not just a horror story because of the beautiful monster at its center, but
because Morgan makes a such a good case for themselves. Logical.
It is difficult to dispute the elegant efficiency of an organism which
can exploit the advantages of sexual reproduction while dispensing with its
drawbacks. Chillingly Nietzschean.
And,
oh the erotic possibilities, particularly to the bisexual professor who becomes
fascinated by Morgan and is seduced by them.
But
what would Morgan care for true love when they already have each other?
Also,
unlike most of my other stories, this one does not end on a positive, uplifting
note. The story squats among my other
published works, grinning diabolically, Halloween among my holidays. Honestly, I don’t know what possessed me.
But
if you are curious, you can find a link to it on my website at
justinegraykin.com. And now, as honored
as I am to be a guest here, I really must be going. This place is quite charming, I’m sure, but
more than a bit unsettling.
Justine Graykin is a writer and free-lance philosopher sustained
by her deep, abiding faith in Science, Humanity and the belief that humor is
the best anti-gravity device. Author of Archimedes Nesselrode, a book written
for adults who are weary of adult books, she is producer of the BroadPod
podcast. She lives, writes and putters
around her home in rural New Hampshire, occasionally disappearing into the
White Mountains with a backpack. Find
her at JustineGraykin.com
The Wicked,
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