She was a sweet young thing with a bright smile, holding a glass of mineral water. She was sitting alone, casually chatting with the bartender about her day and letting out a cute little giggle every now and again. When the bartender left to serve another customer, she looked down at her swinging feet while sipping from the straw protruding from her glass. She looked like she was fourteen in her current position.

James Holden walked up to the girl with the intention of chatting her up. He turned back to his friend, Fredrick Morrell who gave him the thumbs up. James was an outgoing third year university student but his recent breakup with his girlfriend left him down in the dumps. Fredrick had spent the last week convincing his friend that he needed fresh air, alcohol and a lap dance.

James leant against the bench and tried to say as confidently as he could, "Hey there, can I buy you a drink?" but his voice cracked a little as he said 'drink.' The girl must not have minded because she giggled that same cute little giggle.

"I'm sorry, but I don't drink anything but water and juice," she said with a small smile.

"Did you want me to get you some juice then?"

James could feel the 'chatting up' atmosphere slowly turning into a 'paedophilic pick-up' vibe. The girl seemed not to notice this, nodded and said, "Sure."

James took a seat next the girl and took a glance back to Fredrick who just shrugged. When James turned back, the girl put her glass on the bench, turned to him and put a hand on his arm.

"Be honest, you don't really want to give me a sugar high tonight, right?" she said, all the cutesy from her voice completely gone.

James was taken aback for a second then nodded slowly. The girl smirked. The pink shiny lip gloss on her lips completely contrasted that dark look in her eyes. She stood up, sliding her hand down to his hand to hold it. He stood up too and walked in time to her silver high heels. He saw Fredrick give a proud smile as he was taken towards the bathrooms.

She turned to him and asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty one," he replied.

"Hmm, how old do you think I am?"

"In that pink dress? Like you're still in high school," James blurted before he could stop himself.

She just smirked again and pulled on his hand.

She dragged him into the female's bathroom that had no one in it. She pushed him into one of the stalls and locked the door behind her. James was starting to wonder if the seemingly cute giggly girl may turn out to be a forty year old woman with very good plastic surgery.

"How old are you?" James demanded again.

"Oh, don't worry, James. I'm around the same age as you," she said with a grin while poking her tongue out cheekily.

James went to yell but she covered his mouth with hers. It wasn't what you'd call a kiss, the girl had just latched onto his mouth and shoved her tongue in. James felt a stinging sensation in his mouth like he'd just received a needle in his tongue. The girl pulled away and he dropped to the toilet seat.

As she wiped her mouth, she said, "I distinctly remember you being a bit more cocky in your youth. What happened, James? Another girl break you before I could?"

James couldn't move. He wanted to cry.

"What did you do to me?" he choked out.

"Stop being such a cry baby. I'm right, aren't I? Some slut fucked you over before I could. Doesn't matter, though. I was gonna kill you anyway."

Her nails began to grow into what James could only call claws. He looked up into the girl's eyes that had turned from baby blue to a burning orange. His eyes widened and he finally remembered. He knew this girl.

"What do you mean by 'anyway'?"

The girl leant in and said, "I can't believe I ever had a crush on you. You're so bloody ugly, there's no way I'd take you home with me."

She pulled back, her grin looking truly sinister as she flexed her fingers.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, wasting his last breath.

"Because it's fun," she said simply before shoving her nails into his throat.

It was nearly midnight and the bar was closing soon. Fredrick didn't want to disturb his friend but he would think James would prefer his best friend walk in on him rather than a complete stranger, for example, the bar owner.

He walked into the male's bathroom first and checked all the stalls. Nothing. He didn't want to walk into the female's but he didn't think he had a choice. He knocked on the door and asked if there was anyone in there but got no response.

He pushed the door in and walked into the female's bathroom. He couldn't help but feel a bit giddy that he was in a bathroom for girls. Sadly for him, there were no girls inside.

One stall was locked and the rest of them were empty. He knocked on the locked stall and called out his friend's name. No reply. In fact, there was no noise at all in the bathroom.

"James?" he said again to the silence.

He felt gross doing it but he knelt down and looked under the door. He nearly vomited right there and then.

"Oh my god, have you seen the news?" Krystina Adden's disgusted mother asked, bursting into her room.

She looked up from her laptop with an unamused face and said, "No. And I don't plan to."

She looked back down at the laptop screen, pushing her falling glasses up her nose.

"You need to see it right now! The sickos in the world these days, it's unbelievable…"

"Mum, I'm sorry, but I really don't care."

Krystina's mother huffed in annoyance and left.

"How many times do I have to say 'shut the door'?" she mumbled to herself.

Krystina got up to shut the door and heard a little bit of the news. Something about a dead university student found sitting on a toilet. Krystina automatically had an image of some blonde cheerleader dead with her eyes gouged out or something.

"For some reason, I don't think that's what happened," she said to herself.

She went back to her laptop that had Facebook, YouTube and Tumblr open at the same time. Facebook was as boring as ever, the only reason it was open was because there was some fight going on between one bitch and another and the bull they were spouting made for a good comedic evening. YouTube was playing a new ASMR video (otherwise known as a 'relaxing video') she hadn't seen yet and was keeping her in her happy place. Tumblr was open purely for erotic entertainment.

Yes, erotic.

There was a reason Krystina faced her door rather than the door facing her. Tumblr was known for being NSFW – Not Safe For Workplace. Granted, her house wasn't a workplace but no mother or father wants to see their daughter looking at men screwing each other.

She had a problem. She knew that. She also knew the source of how her problem came to be but she doesn't regret her love of seeing whiny, needy and begging boys at the mercy of a dominatrix or another man. She wouldn't call it a guilty pleasure because she didn't feel guilty for it. She loved it.

"Dinner time!" her mother called.

Krystina shut the laptop and joined her parents at the dinner table. Hotdogs and vegetables. What? It was her mother's attempt to please her and her father at the same time – something Krystina liked to eat along with something healthy to make dad happy.

The news was still on.

She turned to the television with her plate in her hand.

"You're not eating on the lounge again," said her mum.

"I know, I know," she droned, taking a bite of hotdog.

The newswoman stood outside of a bar with police tape cutting off the entrance. There was an ambulance off to the side and a police officer talking with a young man.

"The university student had just been out for a night of fun with one of his friends. The friend claims the young man walked into one of the lavatories with a young lady of around sixteen years old at eleven thirty seven and did not reappear as the bar neared its closing time. The friend had the unfortunate luck to find the university student in one of the cubicles."

The newswoman was talking in that boing and dull tone that all newsreaders used when reading out a story, whether it be happy or depressing. Krystina was surprised to hear it was a boy who was killed since it was lately all about young girls being raped, killed then dumped.

"Sixteen years old? What was she doing in a bar?" asked Krystina's father.

"I'm more interested in who killed him," said her mother.

"Duh. The girl did," Krystina replied blatantly, turning to her parents.

Her parents looked at her with a look that clearly said, 'What the hell are you thinking?' Krystina turned back to the television.

"It is unknown at this point as to who the girl is or where she went."

The newswoman then did that whole 'Back to you, whatever-your-name-is' and it moved on to the next story.

"What?!" Krystina exploded, "The girl totally did it! I bet she wasn't even sixteen!"

She rolled her eyes and finished her dinner in silence, then returned to her bedroom.

She closed YouTube and Facebook and went straight to her favourite blog on Tumblr. It was called torture-all-the-boys . It was run by a girl who went by the name Rosetta Bloodhound. It was clearly a fake name – no one had a name as cool sounding as that in Krystina's mind.

Krystina was an eighteen year old girl who wasn't unfamiliar with porn. She had needs just like any other hormonal teenager… except, sometimes she thought her hormones meant she was supposed to be born a sex-crazed boy. She loved Rosetta's blog full of boys in provocative poses, drawn or real life. Pretty boys, sexy boys, boys dressed in drag – it was all there.

Recently, Rosetta had posted something about how she was just like everyone else and she had been rejected by guys before but she didn't let it get her down because she knew karma would come back to bite them in the ass. She was all about making girls feel good about themselves and giving them advice. Krystina thought she was the nicest person in the world.

Today she had posted something new:

'Hello my adorable little Rose Petals, I hope you're all having a wonderful week. Did you see the news? Guess karma got James Holden pretty bad, huh? Let's all celebrate with Jennifer Williams about the demise of this stupid boy.'

A smile crept onto Krystina's face. She knew she shouldn't be happy about the death of someone but she couldn't help but think 'serves him right.' She didn't hate men but she hated men that couldn't see nice girls who were right in front of them.

That Jennifer girl had posted about two weeks ago how she hated a boy named James Holden. When she was in year seven, he had been in her science class and was also her partner for experiments. Apparently they had been really good friends and she helped him through the divorce of his parents. She developed a crush on him but was too shy to say anything. She went on holidays with her parents during the Christmas holidays and when she came back, he had made some new friends. She had finally mustered up enough courage to confess to him but he laughed in her face and then said they couldn't be friends anymore.

'It was those stupid new friends of his. They were in the popular group. If it weren't for that asshole, Fredrick Morrell, we'd probably be together today…' was how she finished her post. She wasn't the only one who had written things like that to Rosetta. Countless others had made 'confessions' about their past loves, crushes and whatever.

"So James Holden was the name of the university student…" Krystina mumbled to herself.

She opened up a document she had started yesterday. Six names stared at her, each one with details below it. She didn't know whether to send it to Rosetta or not. She would like to get sympathy from her idol but on the other hand, she didn't want to seem whiny. She didn't want to bother Rosetta with yet another email from a girl more or less complaining.

Just like yesterday, she shut the document, then her laptop and went to sleep.