Blind Date.

They said that you were a killer, but I didn’t expect this. It didn’t even cross my mind that they might have meant it literally.I must say, though, you’re certainly different to how I imagined you to be. Sure, you were a gorgeous woman when we were having dinner together in that fancy restaurant. Sure, I thought this was my lucky day when we started to talk about art and music, when we bantered playfully about our favourite styles of music and how we were when we were younger. When I looked into your pale green eyes and leaned over to kiss you in the rain, I thought that I had it made. But now, now that we’ve made it to this dismal old hotel room in the centre of town, you’re someone – or even something – else entirely.

I don’t even know if you’re human any more. You’re just an amorphous blob of sticky, translucent flesh, something that nobody, regardless of their kinks and fetishes, would want to have in their hotel room with them.

Just look at you lying there on the floor. Look at the state of you. You’re a mess, a pile of red flesh, of jelly and tentacles. You horrify me. As I look down at your form, I can see pieces of flesh falling off you and sliding around on the floor. I try not to gag. You are disintegrating before my very eyes. You are a freak show, providing me with some sort of perverse, cheap thrill, emerging from the darkest parts of London, revealing yourself to the world at last. A monster.

I don’t love you. How could I have ever loved you? Sure, you were gorgeous when I first laid eyes on you, but how could I have seen this coming? How could I have known that when you pressed your cold lips against mine and pushed me up against the hotel room wall, you would change into this? I didn’t know that the tongue you slid down my throat would turn into something much stranger and more dangerous.

What am I to you, anyway? Food, prey, some kind of energy source? A trophy for you to take back to wherever you came from, something to show off to the rest of your kind? I know the answer. I am all of these things and probably more. I am weak. Helpless. I fell at your feet and now I’m yours forever. You tricked me with your human beauty, but now you mock me. Your putrid bloody flesh and green, vine-like tentacles covered in slime mock me with their grotesque forms. I hate you, but I can’t stop looking at you. For a moment, you stop moving. You’re playing dead like a possum, tricking me again like you did when you were human and beautiful. I find myself wanting to escape, but I know you’re alive – I know that I’m trapped here for the rest of the night.

You’re going to kill me. But first, you’re going to blind me. A pair of writhing tentacles rise up and crawl towards me. They squirt some sort of poisonous ink into my eyes. I try to blink back the tears, I try to stop the poison from getting any further into my eyes, but it’s futile. My vision goes blurry. My eyes roll back in my head. The world goes black, but I can still feel you there beside me. I feel another tentacle ram itself into my mouth. I can feel poison trickle down my throat. It tastes foul and bitter. I try to cough, but I can’t. You force me against the rough carpet as I take my last futile gasps of empty air. You used to be so beautiful. What happened?