The fire was bright. So bright. The screams of pain and misery echoed through the crisp night air,
making me laugh hysterically. The smell of burning flesh filled my nostrils, and I grinned.
It was over. The pain, the humiliation, the taunts and stares. Never again would the bitches
speak a harsh word, destroy anothers self confidence or crush anothers dignity. The fire that
killed them had bore me, a NEW me.
He was right.
He had promised me a new life, and it was beginning right before my eyes. A shard of glass glinted
in the grass, and as I bent down to pick it up I caught my breath at the image reflected in the
light. I was beautiful.
My long, red hair was tangled around my shoulders,and my green eyes glinted evilly, twin fires
reflected in each pupil. My skin, once so marred and pock marked, was smooth and clear as peach
blossoms. My cheekbones were prominent, my lips pouty and pink. I grinned, showing two rows of straight,
white teeth. He had done a good job. I glanced down and noticed my pink, faded dress had been
replaced with a tight, shiny red leather mini skirt and black halter top, my old fashioned sandals
now black knee boots. Shaking my hair back, I took one more lingering look at myself, then the
crumbling black house. Revenge was sweet, and was about to get even sweeter.
As I strode towards town, a car full of hoods skidded to a stop, bodies leaning precariously
out of the windows. Looks of astonishment and lust followed me, and wolf whistles filled the air.
I grinned to myself, glancing poutily back at the guys. Not once in my 'old' life had anyone
whistled at me, not once. This, I told myself, is just the start. You'll have everything. He was
right. That became my mantra. He was right. I repeated it to myself, under my breath. He was right.
He was right. He will ALWAYS be right. I looked up and realised I had already reached Grant's house.
Grant. The memory of the rejection was always on my mind. Walking up to him, summoning every bit
of courage I had left in me after those bitches had stolen all my confidence. Asking him to the dance.
His harsh response. The laughter. The shrill noise of the bell, and the footsteps surrounding me,
each one pounding the truth into my heart. No one loved me. No one would ever love me. Unless I did something drastic.
And I had done something drastic, hadn't I? I laughed again as I walked up the stairs and strode
into his house. I knew where his room was. I don't know how I knew, but, i knew.
He was asleep. Sprawled on the bed, his chest glinting in the light. Excitement rippled through my
body, and I realised the thought of what I was about to do was turning me on. I leant over and bit
gently on his ear. His eyes fluttered open, confusion in his sleepy glance.
"who..who are you?"
I grinned seductively. "I'm your dream date." As I stole a glance towards the sheets I realised I'd
gotten him at a good time.
"And you're happy to see me, too."
He smiled, more awake now. I let my hand run down his chest, stopping short of his boxers. He sat up,
straight, trying to grab me. I pushed him back down, my fingers on his lips.
"Easy boy, let me..play..a little first."
In one fluid motion, I straddled him on the bed and pinned his arms above his head. He groaned.
"I don't know who you are...but I like your style." I smiled and fluttered my eyelashes, and bent
over and licked down his chest to his stomach, his muscles rippling. His breath was shallow and
his eyes half closed. I licked back up his chest and leant over to his ears. Whispering into his
ears, I began to play with the elastic on his boxer shorts.
"And do you know what I'm going to do with you, Grant?" He grinned again.
"What baby?" Now it was my time to grin.
"I'm going to play...let's remember. Remember this? 'If we were the last two people on Earth I'd
still rather fuck a coconut' Remember that? 'Cause I sure do. And I hate rejection."
His eyes flicked open, his mouth open, eyes squinting in confusion.
"Ca-car-cara?? No!" Well at least he remembered my name, I thought as I flicked out the knife. Two
points for the guy in the corner.
"Yup, that be me! I've had a little...make over." He tried in vain to sit up, to push me off his
chest. The thought was laughable. I hadn't just been given me a gorgeous face and body to die for,
but the strength of a cobra. Placing my face close to his,I gave him a sweet kiss goodbye. And
plunged the knife into his chest and watched the arrogance drain right out of him in torrets of red.
Pity. He really did have a fantastic body.
As I surveyed the mess I'd made I sighed. No use crying over split blood though, I thought to myself as
I felt my body tingling and my eyes glittering. If I'd been turned on before, it was nothing compared to
what I felt now. I ran my fingers impatiently down my hips, shaking my hair loose and chewing my
bottom lip. Then I felt warm, strong hands on my back, sliding towards my front, stopping short
of my skirt, teasingly, as I had done to Grant. I sighed deeply, turning around. It was Him. I glanced down
quickly, his hands cupping my face. Gently tipping my chin up with his finger he gazed at me, making
me blush. He smiled, dimpling his cheeks.
"I did I good job," he stated. "Your hair is particularly ravishing.The red...spectacular." I
smiled shyly, my heart racing.
The self confidence I had held all of ten minutes ago had vanished. My hands began twitching at my
sides, and noticing, as he did my every move, he grabbed them with his own and held them to his chest.
Before I could think, before I could breathe, his lips were upon mine, crushing them with his power,
his passion. I felt light headed, dizzy at his touch. Everywhere he touched was fire, and I could
think of nothing but the feel of him. As he pulled away, I gasped with disapointment. He smiled, the
dimples once again flashing.
"How would you like to come...back to my...'place'?" I nodded quickly, not caring what it meant for
me, just wanting him, wanting more.
"You do realise that once you come to live with me you can never leave?" I nodded once again. His
teeth flashed brilliantly.
"Excellent."
He grabbed my hand again, first softly, and carefully, then clutching painfully, till I gasped. My
feet began to tingle, then burn, as the floor split open, licks of fire sprouting from the cracks.
The screams of tortured souls met my ears, and I tried to pull my hand away, tried to scream,
"no, there's been a mistake..", but I was stuck. I looked down to my hands, and found they were
melted painfully to his, his face red and alight, ugly in the fire. I now noticed the dimples were deep, vicous
scars, slashed across his face. I began to scream, my voice mingling with the screams of the others,
my eyes flashing with fear. My clothes were suddenly ripped and dirty, my face streaked with grime
and filth. I sobbed for those I had sacrificed for my day of beauty, of power.
And as I descended into hell, I felt no passion, no love, no triumph, gain or even loss. There was
only mind crushing pain, and the knowledge that I had created my own private hell.