Falling in Love with Marissa

by Megan Auffart

Don't ask. I don't know where the hell this one came from, but it's a short little horror story about the mindless devotion of love and how people can really just fall in love with about anything. I made it ambiguous on purpose and there's probably never going to be a second chapter, so please enjoy! Especially the random shit I threw in (ie mustard). Read and REVIEW!

“My love, you’ve got a lump in your head.”

Marissa looked over at me and gave me one of her trademark smiles, flashing her grin just long enough for me to register the gap between her front teeth, the sharpness of her canines.

“I know,” she lisped, a flicker of spit escaping her lips and landing on my trousers, “I’ve a demon in my skull. I’ve tried holy water and an exorcism, but nothing seems to help.”

I nodded as I watched the lump as it slowly traversed beneath her hair. It didn’t move that fast; perhaps a half of an inch a minute at the most, but it definitely was moving. Perhaps it was searching for something? I asked Marissa and she nodded in agreement with my theory.

“I think he’s looking for a lost memory, or perhaps a bit of information.”

“Information? In your head? Doesn’t the demon know who you are?”

Marissa giggled and her teeth were visible for longer than a second this time. The gap between the front ones was impressive and I wagered that there might have been a gold tooth in the back, based on the distant glimmer I saw from the back recesses of her mouth. By this time, I was certain that she had noticed how I was staring, but she did not raise a hand to cover her lips, as she had in the past. Inside, I glowed with pride. Obviously, my status had risen some since Marissa and I had first met.

Her gleaming tongue peeked forward from between her teeth and licked at her lips, leaving a trail of spittle with my admiration to follow it, as I had never seen a tongue that exact shade of red. I felt the sudden urge to kiss her, then. The mental image of thrusting my tongue into her mouth stirred me as I imagined the sweetest anticipation of how her teeth would feel, biting down, severing the tip of that dull pink organ of speech and taste... I could barely resist the urge.

“The demons never know who I am,” Marissa said, her tone suddenly serious. “They come and they get lost up there, dying like butterflies trapped in a jar for days and days. The stress gets to be too much for them and they just wither.”

Her eyes, her constantly roving eyes, stopped their endless turning and focused upon my own. They were another part of her that I loved. There were so many parts...

“You’ll wither, too, if you stay with me,” she warned. “You’ll collapse upon yourself and die, eaten up from the inside long before I’ll ever get a taste of you.”

I smiled back at her, fully aware of her lips, her eyes, her teeth, her skull. It almost made one forget about the rest of her body.

“I don’t mind. If I get to stay with you till the end, I don’t mind at all.”

I wished my voice would lisp like hers, but alas, my speech was boring and normal. Marissa didn’t seem to care, though, as she leaned forward and licked my cheek, her red tongue running from chin to eyelid, leaving much more saliva than I thought was possible.

Her mouth rested next to my ear as her hands folded around my back, trapping me in the cage of her affection.

“What about mustard?” she whispered, her hot breath blowing into my ear and making me feel faint.

“What?” I asked, trying to become aware of my surroundings again, aware of more than just her.

“Holy water didn’t work for my demon. What about mustard?” she asked as she reached up, touched the lump in her skull and made a face. “He doesn’t hurt, but he itches.”

”I’ll go get some for you now, my love, if that’s what you think is fit.”

She fell back sharply into her bed where she’d been sitting before she’d embraced me. Marissa didn’t bother to pull the sheet back up to her neck. Her scales had gotten darker since last I’d seen them and looked unkempt, in need of polishing.

Still, the mustard first. Anything for my love.

“Sweetness?” she called out, her favorite pet name for me.

“Yes, my love?”

“I’m wondering now whether or not you’ll wither as fast as I think. Perhaps you’ll last longer than the others. Perhaps you won’t succumb.”

My heart beat faster at the anticipation of the challenge. I smiled at her and partially bowed, the door open and the hallway light flooding into the dim bedroom.

She stared at me for a moment, eyes whirling as she assessed something in her mind, and then threw the sheet entirely off her body. Her scales were indeed in need of polishing, but she was still as grand as ever. Sliding off the bed with a small moan, she uncoiled her lower half and slithered towards me, the distant-sounding rattle filling my head with images of Indians and dust.

Reaching over with one of her small, graceful arms, the final section of her tail fell off the bed and onto the floor with an audible thump. Her mouth was so close to my nose that I could smell her breath, like rancid meat and lilacs. I wished that I could breathe that scent forever, that I could be near her forever.

“Yes,” she murmured to herself as her hands, her soft and lady-like hands, traveled up and down my body, as if exploring. “Perhaps you’ll even survive long enough for me to taste you, to take my share.”

“I’d like that,” I offered, feeling both foolish and hopeful as I shivered under her touch, hoping that I wouldn’t offend her with my arousal.

“I know you would, sweetness. I know you would. Now please go get me my mustard. The demon is itching me horribly.”

“Of course, Marissa, my love.”

The rattling sounded again, as though from far far away, and she slid back to her bed, pulling the sheet over top of her. I closed the door behind me as I started walking towards the kitchen, but I would be back soon.

She was my love. My goddess. I would always come back to her.

I would always be faithful.