Growling incoherently, the disfigured man plunged his hands into the writhing tangle of bats covering the velvet settee. His hand closed on a pale arm. As if unaware of the constant scratch of wings and claws, he heaved backwards in a smooth, forceful motion, and impossibly, a woman fell free onto the floor.
The bats disappeared, purged from existence at the woman’s appearance, drawing forth gasps from myself and the other horrified guests.
Naked, but apparently unharmed, the woman stood. “Forgive me. I’ve been somewhat batty of late.”
I laughed, hysterically, into the shocked silence.
The Countess grinned in reply.
(Written for The Prediction. Challenge words: bat, purge, velvet)