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We’re thrilled to share an excerpt from The Faceless Thing We Adore, a new queer horror novel by Hester Steel, out from Page Street Horror on August 5. 我们很高兴分享 Hester Steel 的新作《我们崇拜的无面之物》节选，这部酷儿恐怖小说将于 8 月 5 日由 Page Street Horror 出版。

Lemon, poppy seed, sun-warmed sand. These visions convince Aoife to quit her job, leave her manipulative boyfriend, and escape to the isolated shores of the Farmstead commune. There, among its charismatic and hedonistic residents, Aoife finds everything she’s been missing: a community that adores her, the freedom to indulge, and the promise to be a part of something miraculous. 柠檬、罂粟籽、阳光温暖的沙子。这些幻象让 Aoife 辞掉工作，离开她狡猾的男友，逃到农庄公社偏远的海岸。在那里，在它魅力四射且享乐主义的居民中，Aoife 找到了她一直缺少的一切：一个崇拜她的社区、放纵的自由，以及成为奇迹一部分的承诺。

But darkness underpins her airy new way of life. A disappearing cave looms above an ocean no one dares step foot in, mysterious crying fills the night hours, and a rot is spreading across the island. But perhaps most concerning is the commune’s reverence for their leader, Jonah—a love tinged with fear that Aoife knows all too well. 但黑暗潜伏在她轻盈的新生活方式之下。一个正在消失的洞穴悬在无人敢踏足的大海上方，神秘的哭泣充斥着夜晚，腐烂正蔓延到整个岛屿。但或许最令人担忧的是公社对他们的领袖 Jonah 的崇敬——一种混合着恐惧的爱，Aoife 对此了如指掌。

When Aoife’s boring old life comes crashing into her bold new one, loyalties are tested, unleashing a spiral of unspeakable violence that threatens to fracture reality itself. At the helm, Aoife finds herself desperately trying to protect everyone and everything she’s grown to love. Awkward, clumsy Aoife, who was always told she was weak, will soon realize the depths of her strength—and the pleasures of her rage. 当 Aoife 沉闷乏味的老生活猛烈撞入她大胆新生活时，忠诚受到考验，引发了一连串无法言喻的暴力漩涡，威胁要撕裂现实本身。在漩涡中心，Aoife 发现自己拼命试图保护她日渐珍爱的一切人和物。那个总是被告知软弱、笨拙的 Aoife，很快将意识到她力量的深度——以及她狂怒的乐趣。

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Morning. Sun on lavender. I sit on the garden step with tea, and swirl honey into yogurt, watching how they soften and meld. Sharp and sweet as the warmth of my mouth binds them. Listen to birdsong. 早晨。紫罗兰上的阳光。我坐在花园台阶上喝茶，将蜂蜜搅拌进酸奶，看着它们软化融合。尖锐而甜美，就像我嘴里的温暖将它们结合在一起。倾听鸟鸣。

So much peace and beauty in this morning. Is it too perfect? I think of Elise, hungry tunnels, eager whispers, Teresa singing as she works a knife through flesh. Imagine if the villager’s warning was right; imagine if this is not safe, but a lure, a place of ravenous appetite closing around me. I think of flies, gorging themselves on the bait inside a carnivorous plant, unable to lift off as the petals fold in. 这个早晨有如此多的平静与美丽。是太完美了吗？我想起 Elise，饥饿的隧道，急切的低语，Teresa 边工作边用刀切割皮肉时唱歌。想象如果村民的警告是正确的；想象如果这不是安全的，而是一个诱饵，一个围绕着我、充满贪婪食欲的地方。我想起苍蝇，在食肉植物内部的诱饵上暴食，无法起飞，因为花瓣正在合拢。

No. You don’t stumble across monsters on sunbaked beaches; places where people laugh and lick food from each other’s fingers don’t have ghosts. The sun sanitizes them. Girls do not vanish in paradise. 不。你不会在烈日炙烤的海滩上撞见怪物；人们放声大笑、互相舔着对方手指的地方没有鬼魂。阳光会净化它们。女孩不会在天堂里消失。

I jerk at a hand on my shoulder. Larissa’s face is so close that my heart turns cartwheels. “Got you on the rota with me. Do you like goats?” 我猛地一抖，感觉有人搭在了我的肩膀上。拉莉萨的脸离我如此之近，我的心都快要跳出胸腔了。“我已经把你安排在我的轮班表上了。你喜欢山羊吗？”

“I like wrangling them. I think?” “我喜欢赶山羊。我觉得？”

I am not great at wrangling goats. I’m muddy and bruised as we hurry back from the goat pen with buckets of milk under building thunderheads. I’d be sick with shame, but I’m laughing and Larissa’s approving. 我赶山羊并不擅长。当我们提着满桶牛奶，从山羊圈匆匆赶回，头顶乌云密布，我浑身泥泞，青一块紫一块。我本该羞愧难当，但我却在笑，拉莉萨也投来赞许的目光。

I wish Craig could see this. Aoife, wrangling goats. Making friends. Being the impulsive dream girl he always wanted. 我希望克雷格能看到这一幕。艾芙，正在照看山羊。交朋友。成为他一直想要的冲动梦想女孩。

In the kitchen, Maisie, the old Irish woman, teaches me and Larissa to make goat’s cheese and jams, regaling us with stories as the wind gets up and the sky darkens to pewter. I lose myself in it, stirring the water and sugar and fruit, steam redoubling the thundery heat. I might be boiling too, growing tender, leeching my color and flavor into the sweetness. 在厨房里，那位爱尔兰老妇人梅西教我和拉莉莎做山羊奶酪和果酱，当风势渐起，天空暗沉如青铜时，她给我们讲起了故事。我沉醉其中，搅动着水和糖以及水果，蒸汽翻腾着雷鸣般的热度。我或许也在沸腾着，变得柔嫩，将我的色彩和风味渗入甜味之中。

The thought makes me dizzy; I look up. The air’s thick with sugar, the first drops of rain slapping the windows, curtains moving in a breeze I can’t feel. 这个念头让我头晕；我抬头看。空气中弥漫着糖味，第一滴雨拍打着窗户，窗帘在我不曾感受到的风中摆动。

Maisie’s gone. It’s just Larissa, leaning against the table, watching me. Her grin’s playful, all teeth. Something about it makes me aware, with a thud, that we’re alone. Everything’s still, the rain thickening outside, cocooning us. Lightning flickers; I wait for thunder. Maisie 走了。只剩下拉莉莎，靠在桌子上看着我。她的笑容带着戏谑，露出满口牙齿。某种感觉让我猛地意识到我们现在是独自一人。一切都很安静，外面的雨越下越大，像给我们罩上了一层保护罩。闪电闪烁；我等待着雷声。

A peach sits in Larissa’s palm, ready to be sliced for the pot. All that soft, sun-freckled skin. It’s so fragile, isn’t it? It could come apart in her hand. 一个桃子放在拉里萨的手心，准备切给罐子吃。那柔软、被阳光晒出斑点的表皮。它如此脆弱，不是吗？她的手一松，它就会碎裂开来。

It’s so quiet; I’d have expected everyone to be piling into the farmhouse to escape the rain, dripping and whooping, but nothing moves. It’s just us in the steam and rattle of the rain. 太安静了；我原以为大家都会冲进农舍躲避雨淋，浑身湿透地欢呼雀跃，但什么动静都没有。只有我们，在雨声的蒸汽和噼啪声中。

She says, “Hey, Aoife,” and steps up close to me. “Do you want to know a cool thing I learned once?” 她说：“嘿，艾奥菲，”然后走近我。“你想知道我学过的一个酷东西吗？”

I nod. There’s the thunder, a warm rumble that just thickens the close air around us. Back home, thunder booms once. Here, it begins and doesn’t end, resonating. Makes it feel like time’s gone wonky. 我点点头。雷声传来，温暖而低沉，让周围的空气更加闷热。在家乡，雷声只会响一次。在这里，它开始后不会结束，不断回荡。让人觉得时间都变得混乱了。

If that carnivorous flower closed up around me, right now, I might let it, for another few instants of standing here beside her. 如果那朵食肉花此刻将我包围，我或许会允许，再停留片刻，站在这里，在她身旁。

“There’s this idea,” Larissa says, soft. “That time’s just something we perceive. To string everything together. That actually, all moments exist all at once, bunched up and forever. Your brain tells you that you’re moving forward through time, but really, it’s all simultaneous and eternal. Which means even if we don’t know it, we are always going to be standing here in this kitchen listening to the thunder and making jam, that cannot be destroyed, and I really, really like that, don’t you?” “有个想法，”拉莉莎轻声说，“时间只是我们感知的东西。把一切串联起来。其实，所有时刻都同时存在，堆积在一起，永恒不变。你的大脑告诉你你在时间中向前移动，但实际上，一切都是同时发生的，永恒的。这意味着即使我们不知道，我们总是会站在这里，在这间厨房里听着雷声做果酱，那是一种无法被摧毁的东西，我真的很喜欢那一点，你呢？”

A shudder and a grin all at once, rippling through me. “I was just thinking something like that. Only, way less coherent and philosophical, and it involved carnivorous flowers.” 一阵战栗和狞笑同时在我体内涌动。“我刚才正想着类似的事。只是，没那么连贯和富有哲理，而且还涉及食肉植物。”

She laughs. “I don’t actually even want the context for that.” She examines me as the laugh dies down, something growing soft in her gaze. “Hey. I want to show you something, okay? No questions, because this is going to be weird, so you just have to go with it and trust me. All right?” She’s standing so close. “About time you got a beautiful secret to play with.” 她笑了。“我其实根本不想知道背景。”笑声渐止，她打量着我，眼神中透出柔和。“嘿。我想给你看样东西，好吗？别问问题，因为这会有些奇怪，所以你只需要跟着我，相信我。行吗？”她靠得那么近。“总算有个美丽的秘密可以玩了。”

I hadn’t thought my chest could get any tighter, but apparently it can. I nod. No questions. 我以为我的胸膛再也无法更紧了，但显然可以。我点点头。别问问题。

“What you do,” she whispers, voice half lost in the thunder, “is let go. Feel the sensation, breathe out, and let it go. It’s easier than it sounds. Something’s there to take it.” “你要做的是，”她低语道，声音几乎被雷声淹没，“放手。感受那种感觉，呼气，然后放手。这比听起来容易。有什么东西会接住它。”

“Something—something is what?” I had not had a single expectation; I had not in any way been prepared for her to say that. A shudder rises, remembering those cold passageways, the hunger in them. “什么——什么是什么？”我没有任何期待；我完全没有准备好她说出这句话。一阵寒颤涌起，记起那些冰冷通道，它们中的饥饿感。

“What did I say?” She raises an eyebrow, eyes glittering playfully. “我说什么了？”她扬起眉毛，眼睛闪烁着戏谑的光芒。

“No questions?” “没有问题？”

“No questions. Just trust. Like this.” She raises the peach to my lips. “没有问题。只需信任。就像这样。”她将桃子送到我的唇边。

I bite down. Sweetness bursts on my tongue— 我咬下去。甜味在舌尖爆发——

“Give up the taste, let it go—” “放弃这滋味，让它过去——”

She’s right, it’s easy. My mouth and mind were holding that flavor only lightly. 她是对的，这很简单。我的嘴和心只是轻轻握着那种滋味。

Something else is there, around me, inside me, to accept that offering. 还有别的什么在那里，围绕着我，在我之内，接受那份献礼。

The taste is gone from my mouth, there only in echo; the air, the steam and the swimmy light and the storm, shiver and flicker as they accept what I’ve given. It’s like my body belongs to something else, is an organ through which something can taste the world. I feel its appreciation, its pleasure, redoubled in me, sweeter than any mouthful. 我的嘴里已经没了那滋味，只在回声中存在；空气、蒸汽、昏暗的光和风暴，在接纳我所给予的东西时颤抖和闪烁。我的身体好像属于了别的什么，是一个可以让什么东西品尝世界的器官。我感受到它的赞赏，它的愉悦，在我体内加倍，比任何一口都要甜美。

I feel the edge of something, so close. My senses are jumbled; it’s like it’s speaking to me through the thunder. 我感觉到某个边缘，如此之近。我的感官混乱；它好像正通过雷声对我说话。

My thoughts tumble. There were so many hints and promises that the universe was stranger and more magical and dangerous than life so far had promised. This is not a hint, this is as good as a confirmation, and it leaves me giddy with belief and disbelief and terror. 我的思绪翻涌。宇宙比迄今为止生活所承诺的更加奇异、更加神奇、更加危险，这并非暗示，这几乎等同于确认，让我在信念、怀疑和恐惧中晕眩。

“You feel it?” Larissa breathes. “That’s how it starts. Does it want more?” “你感觉到了吗？”拉莉莎呼吸着。“这就是开始。它想要更多吗？”

I can’t say what it is. I can’t separate it from the thundering of my heart or the smell of sugar or the patter of rain. But I know. It wants more; it always wants more. 我说不出那是什么。我说不清它与我心脏的雷鸣、糖的香气或雨点敲打声有何不同。但我明白。它想要更多；它总是想要更多。

Larissa’s hand finds my wrist, my pulse. Her fingers move there; I shiver. 拉莉莎的手找到了我的手腕，我的脉搏。她的手指在那里移动；我颤抖起来。

The shiver continues, out through me, into whatever’s around me. I offer the sensation, of Larissa’s touch, of what that does to me, and it’s no longer mine, and the fabric of everything sucks it up greedily. More. 颤抖持续着，从我体内蔓延开去，进入我周围的一切。我传递着这种感觉，拉莉莎的触碰，以及那对我产生的影响，而它已不再属于我，周围的一切贪婪地吸收着它。更多。

“Are you scared?” Larissa asks. “你害怕吗？”拉莉莎问道。

I nod. I don’t say, I don’t know if I’m scared of this presence, of what it’s doing, or that you’re going to kiss me. 我点点头。我没说，我不知道我是不是害怕这个存在，害怕它在做什么，还是害怕你会吻我。

“Give up the fear.” “放弃恐惧。”

I feel my shallow breath, the ache of the uncanny behind my breastbone, the dark places in my mind stirring with panic at her closeness. I find fear in every cell. I say to the presence, This is yours. 我能感觉到自己浅浅的呼吸，胸口深处那莫名的不适感，以及我脑海中那些黑暗角落因她的靠近而泛起的恐慌。我感到每一个细胞都在恐惧。我对着那个存在说，这是你的。

I’m not afraid now. The stone walls and cool flagstones and colored shutters flutter like firelight, a shudder of satisfaction. Is that just lightning? 我现在不害怕了。石墙和清凉的石板，还有彩色的百叶窗，像火光一样摇曳，一种满足的战栗。那是闪电吗？

Thunder murmurs. I don’t understand its language; I don’t care. Larissa’s hand finds my waist. If I look up, that’ll be a yes, and something will happen. 雷声低语。我不懂它的语言；我也不在乎。拉莉萨的手找到了我的腰。如果我抬头看，那就是同意，然后就会发生什么。

You think she wants you? Bless your silly little heart. 你觉得她想要你？可怜你那颗傻气的小心肠。

I feel her breath. She does. 我能感觉到她的呼吸。是的，她能。

She steps away, leaving me blinking, peach juice sticky on my lips. She’s laughing. “Good! It likes you, I can tell, it likes you so much.” 她走开了，我眨着眼睛，嘴唇上还沾着桃汁。她在笑。“太好了！我能感觉到，它喜欢你，它非常喜欢你。”

I open my mouth, but she puts her finger to her lips. It’s a secret and I’m in on it and I’m not. Thunder echoes and it’s just thunder; there’s footsteps, whoops, doors slamming. Sage passes the kitchen, with his usual glare. The rain’s soaked a pattern onto his t-shirt; it looks like a map. 我张嘴，但她用手指抵住嘴唇。这是个秘密，我参与了，又好像没参与。雷声回荡，只是雷声；有脚步声，欢呼声，门被猛地关上。萨奇从厨房经过，带着他惯有的怒视。雨水在他 T 恤上浸出图案，看起来像张地图。

Larissa whistles ostentatiously and returns to slicing peaches. My mind’s too giddy to form questions. I pick up the half-devoured peach, and eat it down to the last shreds as rain streams down the steamed-up window. Some bites, I let myself taste and relish. Some, I offer the taste up, and feel that delighted ripple. 拉里莎得意地吹着口哨，又回去切桃子。我的头脑太轻飘飘的，连问题都问不出来。我拿起半个吃剩的桃子，在雨丝顺着蒸汽模糊的窗户流淌时，把它吃到了最后一丝。有些口，我让自己细细品味；有些口，我把滋味献出去，感受那愉悦的涟漪。

I savor this fearlessness; I imagine something unearthly coiling in my stomach and spreading. It feels right, holding something like that inside my body. Like it belongs there. 我品味着这种无畏；我想象着有什么超凡脱俗的东西在我的胃里盘旋，并向四处扩散。这种感觉是对的，把类似的东西装在我的身体里。就像它本该在那里一样。

Frida grits her teeth. Whatever it means, it cuts so deep that denying it physically hurts. 弗里达咬紧牙关。无论这意味着什么，它刺得如此之深，以至于否认它都会让人身体感到疼痛。

“Can I look?” The frustration of having answers so close is making me playfully reckless, another new pleasure. If she’s going to lie, why shouldn’t she hurt for it, a little? “我能看看吗？”答案近在咫尺的挫败感让我变得戏谑而鲁莽，这是另一种新的乐趣。如果她要撒谎，为什么不应该为此感到一丝痛苦呢？

Frida’s mouth is a thin line, but she drops the ring into my palm. It’s warm with echoes of the sun and her flesh. I feel an urge to hurl it away, or swallow it, to see what she’d do. I trace the symbol. 弗里达的嘴唇紧抿成一条线，但她还是把戒指放进了我的掌心。戒指带着阳光和她的肌肤的余温。我想要把它扔掉，或者吞下去，看看她会怎么做。我描摹着上面的符号。

The blue sky, the cool tea glass, waver like a signal’s been lost. 蓝天，冰凉的茶杯，都像信号丢失一样微微晃动。

This moment exists already somewhere. Is this me? I stand engulfed in darkness, frigid turbulent water up to my waist, tracing the symbol on the wall. Who carved this, so deep into this cave, and how, in this dank blackness where no light shines? This dark takes everything that enters it. It’s taken me. I hear a heartbeat, heavy with satisfaction, drawing me forward. I say, “No,” and the dark smiles because it knows better. 这一刻早已存在于某个地方。这是我吗？我淹没在黑暗中，冰冷的湍急水流没过腰际，描摹着墙上的符号。是谁刻下这个符号，如此深入这洞穴，又是如何，在这不见一丝光亮的阴湿黑暗中？这黑暗吞噬一切进入它的事物。它已经吞噬了我。我听见一颗心跳声，沉重而满足，将我向前牵引。我说：“不，”黑暗却笑了，因为它更清楚。

A hand on my forehead. Cold water at my lips. “Too much sun,” Aksel tuts. “Take it slow, city girl.” 手放在我的额头上。冷水在我的嘴唇上。“晒太多了，”阿克塞尔嗔怪道。“慢点来，城里姑娘。”

That felt so real. I’ve seen it before, haven’t I? That damp, cavernous darkness. Was it a recent nightmare, or a bad trip years ago? 那感觉很真实。我以前见过吗？那种潮湿、洞穴般的黑暗。是最近做的一个噩梦，还是多年前的一次糟糕经历？

It lingers now. Just like my skin knew the warmth of this sun, it knows the cold of a rocky passageway. My fingers know the carved stone, my legs the tug of freezing water. I can’t call these visions: They’re playing out in my flesh. My lungs are still tight from the suffocating air, rot and salt filling my nose. 它现在还萦绕在我心头。就像我的皮肤知道这阳光的温暖，也知道岩石通道的寒冷。我的手指知道那雕刻过的石头，我的双腿感受到冰水的拉扯。我不能把这些幻象称为幻觉：它们正在我的肉身中上演。我的肺仍然因为窒息的空气而紧绷，腐烂和盐分充斥着我的鼻腔。

I shiver. That one was not tantalizing. I felt like I’d never see light again; I felt taken, swallowed. 我打了个寒颤。那一次并不诱人。我感觉再也见不到光了；我感觉自己被带走，被吞噬。

But it was compelling, too. The sick fascination of broken taboos and violent temptations. 但它同样具有吸引力。对打破禁忌和暴力诱惑的病态迷恋。

The visions of sunlight and lemons came true— 阳光和柠檬的幻象成真了—

“Is there a cave here?” I blurt. “这里有个洞穴吗？”我脱口而出。

Aksel looks at me sidelong. “No. Just a crevasse in the cliff.” He wipes his hands together, although they were clean. “Right. Let’s get this section done.” 阿克斯尔斜眼看着我。“没有。只是悬崖上的一道裂缝。”他把手搓在一起，尽管它们很干净。“对。我们先把这一段完成。”

I return Frida’s ring; she takes my hand, folding my flesh and bone between hers like they could meld together. “Oh Aoife, you do belong here. I see it in your questions. Thank you for coming to us.” She tightens her grip, and I tighten mine, glowing. She wants me here. “Don’t be afraid, okay? It’s going to be beautiful.” 我把弗里达的戒指还给她；她握住我的手，将我的血肉骨骼夹在她的掌心，仿佛它们可以融为一体。“哦，艾芙，你确实属于这里。我看得出来，从你的问题中。谢谢你来到我们这里。”她紧握我的手，我也用力回握，心中充满温暖。她想让我留在这里。“别害怕，好吗？一切都会很美好的。”

And I’m alone, skin cold from a dark place it never felt, lemon lingering on my tongue. 而我独自一人，皮肤冰冷，那是它从未感受过的地方。柠檬的香气仍在舌尖萦绕。

• * *

By evening I’m exhausted and tempted to slink to bed, but Teresa corners me, a chicken tucked under each arm. I recognize my bird friend from this morning. 到傍晚时我已疲惫不堪，想偷偷溜回床上，但特蕾莎拦住了我，每只胳膊下都夹着一只小鸡。我认出这是早上那只小鸟朋友。

Soon I’m back in that heaven of spices and sun, chopping onions. Teresa sings to the chickens, stroking their feathers, and the sound is so soothing that I settle, too, and it’s a jolt when she snaps their necks. But I stay in that calm, sleepy state as I watch them flutter and fall still. She plucks and guts them, still singing to the stripped carcasses, the movements of her fingers and knife lovingly focused. 很快，我又回到了那充满香料和阳光的天堂，正在切洋葱。特蕾莎唱着歌给鸡们听，抚摸着它们的羽毛，那声音如此舒缓，我也安静下来。当她突然扭断它们的脖子时，我感到一阵惊愕。但我仍保持着那种平静、困倦的状态，看着它们扑腾着，然后静止不动。她拔毛去内脏，依然对着光秃秃的尸体唱歌，她的手指和刀子的动作充满了爱意，专注而温柔。

The stew is rich and spicy, the meat tender and somehow more delicious for being a gift from my chicken friend. I fill my belly to bursting, then hand bowls around as people appear. I hum Teresa’s song. What is this peace this place gives me? 这锅炖菜浓郁辛辣，肉质鲜嫩，不知为何，因为这是我的鸡朋友送的，反而更加美味。我吃得撑得肚皮鼓鼓，然后当人们出现时，我把碗递给周围的人。我哼着特蕾莎的歌。是什么让这个地方给了我这份宁静？