The Last Fatale

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.