He
didn't like the way she was looking at him. All the way across the
room, her eyes spoke of death, and nothing he did could shake her.
Every conversation he had was tainted, ending abruptly, whether
interrupted or petering out as if he didn't know what he was doing.
But he did; he knew what he was doing more than most.
On a
normal night, Daniel Derringer would have his pick of the litter. Any
girl he set his eyes on, he knew how to get her home with him. Anyone
he wanted to influence, he could sweet talk his way into getting
whatever he wanted. No one was safe from Dan's Silver Tongue, and no
one cared. Except tonight.
After
his third strike out, he gave up talking to the women. He'd never
gone home from a party alone, but tonight looked like things might be
different, and it was all because of her. The girl with the silver
hair. The girl with the death stare.
No
one seemed to notice her, but he couldn't pay attention to anything
else. She was like a demon haunting him, cursing his every word, his
every move. He didn't know who she was or why she fixated on him with
such hatred, but it was throwing him off more than he could
understand. With how his night was going– with what she was doing
to him– he didn't dare start any other conversations; who knew what
damage would be done.
There
was a simple solution. She wasn't really his type – not that he had
a type; he'd bed anything pretty that let him – but she wasn't
unattractive, so why the hell not? He'd take her home, leave her weak
and spent, and then they could both get on with their lives. That's
probably all she wanted, anyways; her shot with the Derringer.
He'd
settled in the past, when there weren't top tier picks available. Of
course he'd want someone hot if he could, but that wasn't what it was
about. After the party was just as important as the party itself–
more so, in fact– and a six or a seven could be every bit as good
as a nine or a ten if you turned out the lights.
Dan
worked his way over to the refreshments, somehow always keeping her
in his line of site. Those eyes of hers were haunting, and they
followed him like the two were somehow connected. It almost hurt, and
he could feel his chest growing heavy.
Part
of him wondered if he should tell her off, just start screaming at
her until she ran out crying, but deep down he knew that she wouldn't
buckle so easily. He couldn't tell you how he knew, but he knew. He
couldn't intimidate her, or ignore her, or get rid of her the way he
would the pussies that worshiped him from behind their computer
screens. No, he'd have to go all out on this one; fuck her good and
ditch her quick so that she never knew what happened. That's the only
way to deal with the crazy ones; show them you own them, and they
don't fucking matter.
He
worked his way through the crowd toward her. It was harder than it
should have been, and he practically had to shove people in order to
make his way through. Normally the only difficulty he had getting
through a crowd was people wanting to talk to him, but here it was
like no one even acknowledged his existence.
Whatever
this was, he was eager to end it. Leave the party early, fuck her,
and get it over with. It was no longer enjoyable, not something he
wanted to do; he had
to do it. This wasn't what a
party was supposed to be like, this wasn't how he was supposed to
feel. She sure as fuck better
not play hard to get, because he was going
to get her, and he wasn't going to be gentle.
“What's
a pretty thing like you doing all alone over here?” He asked
enthusiastically as soon as he got close enough. “Here, I brought
you a drink,” he said, extending a dixie cup toward her. She took
it and immediately set it aside on a bookshelf. He tried not to
react. “Name's Dan. Derringer. I haven't seen you before. What's
your name?”
“Kiss
me,” she said, staring intently into his eyes.
Dan let loose a fierce grin. “Well that's a unique name, but I
definitely like it. Do you always–”
“Kiss
me,” she demanded, grabbing
his shirt and pulling him to her.
The kiss was intense, and wild, like nothing he had ever experienced.
If she was half as good in bed as she was at kissing, this was going
to be a good night after all; might even be worth striking out with
the other girls if this was what he would get. Besides, he'd always
catch up with them at other parties. For now...
“Fuck,”
he said as soon as she let go of him. He involuntarily reached up and
touched his lips, subtly shaking his head in a daze. “You are
incredible. I knew it was the right move telling those other girls I
wasn't interested. I'm so glad I worked up the courage to come talk
to you; you're all I have been able to think about all night. But
hey, it's loud in here; what do you say w– … ghughghk.
Ghughkghug. Ghghghuuhghhhguughhghk.”
Tears started flowing quickly and steadily from Dan's eyes. He looked
at the girl desperately, pleading.
She smiled.
Dan lurched forward, doubling over, thousands of strange insects
pouring out of his mouth in a flow of blood. Each one shattered as it
hit the ground, turning to black fragments floating in the red puddle
around his feet.
He fell to his knees, right there in the pool of his own blood, and
clenched his face between his hands. He began to scream.
His teeth started to drip, melting and eating through his flesh,
ivory pools boiling and burning through his lips. Drops of white
splattered in the red below him, sending acidic splashes of pale red
to burn through his jeans. Dan started shaking his head back and
forth as he squeezed tighter and tighter, his screams increasing in
intensity and panic. The acidic fluid ate its way through his clothes
and began to burrow deep into his legs.
Then it all stopped.
The screaming, the movement, everything ended. Dan remained still,
kneeling with his head between his hands, not making a sound. He was
like a statue, a wide-eyed, terrified monolith silently being
consumed by trace amounts of itself. And then...
CRACK.
His skull collapsed between the intense force of his strength, his
head crushed by his own hands.
The girl bent down, resting on the tips of her toes with her knees
out in front of her, like a child on the playground looking at a
ladybug, or drawing in the dirt with a stick. She leaned over and
whispered close to Dan's ear.
“Kiss
me,” she said with a smile, and then just laughed.
She stood and walked out of the house, leaving a trail of muddy
footprints in her wake. If anyone noticed her, they would say she
looked like the happiest person on Earth. If anyone noticed her.
No one did.
