It was Ted‘s lucky night. He’d been trolling this bar for almost a month, and had never even gotten a nibble. He’d bought drinks for countless women, who always rebuffed him with false excuses and contempt in their eyes. Tonight was different, the gods of black light and techno had seen fit to smile upon him.
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Most men would have called her cute, but to Ted she was stunning. If Doctor Frankenstein had engineered a girl to his exact specifications, this girl would have been the result. The idiosyncratic features that he found so attractive were all present; the slightly crooked smile, the spray of freckles on the bridge of her nose, the scuffed knees and chipped fingernail polish. He half expected to wake up, tangled in sweaty sheets. But this was no dream. She was real, on the next stool, smiling.
They made small talk over a few beers. When he asked for her number, she said she'd give it to him after he walked her home. He could read between the lines. He'd fantasized about this since he was fourteen.
On the walk to her place, they held hands. She had insisted on walking rather than letting him drive. Her fingers were small and delicate, but her grip was firm, almost insistent. In a burst of foolish honesty, Ted mentioned what a rough time he normally had meeting women. She leaned into him and whispered.
"I like it rough."
Speechless, he remained silent, afraid some banality would slip past his lips, ruining the moment. She didn't seem to mind his silence, making conversation until they arrived.
The apartment was spartan. It’s walls were bare but for a single portrait done in oil paints. Ted stopped to admire it. Although a bit indistinct, her portrait, merely beautiful by day, took life from the night and all of her features sprang from cold to warm.
“This is exquisite. Who painted it?” he inquired.
"A former lover," was her offhanded reply.
She wasn’t interested in small talk anymore. The beginnings of a storm rumbled overhead as she slipped out of her clothes and motioned for him to join her. Ted wasted no time. She hadn't been lying earlier. She allowed him control for only a moment before taking over. The storm intensified, drawing it's cue from the fevered tempo of her body over his. Her eyes seemed to fix on the cubbies where spiders wandered by day, but now were highlighted in the shadows cast by sporadic lightning. She seemed distracted, but Ted didn't care. The exquisite sensations coupled with the sight of her erased any questions about her ferocity. Feeling his climax approaching Ted closed his eyes.
The door creaked open. Ted peered through heavy eyes and saw a strikingly handsome man in a rain splattered coat watching them.
Ted tried to force her off. The sight of his hands now shrunken and withered stole the words from his lips. She smiled evilly from her place over him, her eyes glowing a sickly yellow as she continued to writhe. Her charade at an end, her features began to melt into something monstrous.
Ted’s release swept through him with a scream, as he promptly died.
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