Friday, June 29, 2018

A Lover From Saint Valentine

It started with a note.

It was taped to my computer monitor at work.

“I’ll have your heart this Valentine’s day!”

There was no signature. None of my coworkers had any clue where it came from. No one saw my secret admirer approach my desk at any point that morning or the day before. I shrugged it off. Valentine’s Day was only a few days away, I figured I’d find out who was responsible then. I hoped it wasn’t Greg, since he had a tendency not to shower and seemed like the kind of guy who would handle rejection by bringing a gun to the office.

I had already forgotten the note by the time my shift ended.

The next day, I arrived to find a white box with deep red ribbon adorning it propped up in my office chair. I slipped the ribbon off and flipped open the box, and was greeted by a dozen roses. It would have been sweet, if each faded petal of each withered rose wasn’t so dry that it crumbled at the softest touch. There was no card, no logo of a florist, nothing but decaying flowers. I told myself that it must have been some mistake. Probably some new guy put off the delivery for too long. Hell, maybe he removed the card that came with the package so that I couldn’t call the company to complain. I tossed the flowers, box and all, in the garbage can and went on with my day.

I wasn’t the slightest bit surprised when I found the heart shaped box on my desk the following day. It was the day before Valentine’s Day, and I had expected to find out who my admirer was before leaving the office, considering the holiday was over the weekend when the company was closed.

I opened the box, removed one of the delicious looking chocolates, and took a bite. I felt something squirm in my mouth as the disgustingly bitter flavor assaulted my taste buds. I spit the bite into the garbage can and looked at the candy still in my hand just as one of the maggots wriggled out of the gooey center and onto my finger. Screaming, I threw the chocolate on the floor and flicked the maggot away. Coworkers swarmed my desk while my breakfast made its way from my stomach into the trash on top of the chewed up worms. One brave soul broke open another sweet to discover that it was a chocolate covered cockroach. I picked up the box to throw it away, and found one of my post-it notes stuck to the desk beneath it. The words “see you tonight” were scrawled in sloppy handwriting, with a lopsided heart drawn underneath.

My boss let me go home early after helping me file a report with HR. There was no way I was going to be able to get any work done knowing that one of my coworkers was a twisted fuck with a sick crush on me. I seriously considered never going back. What if they couldn’t figure out who was leaving this stuff for me? I didn’t think I could handle another demented surprise left at my workspace.

When I got to my apartment, I locked my door, closed the curtains, and took a scalding hot shower. I brushed my teeth three times, but I couldn’t seem to get the taste of vomit and larva out of my mouth. My mind was clouded by slimy insects and dead roses when I wandered out of my bathroom and curled up in bed. I closed my eyes, hoping that a nap would take away the throbbing headache brought on by the stress of the day.

It was dark when I woke. I grabbed my phone, squinting my eyes as the screen lit up so I could see the time without blinding myself. It was just after 2pm. Why was my bedroom so dark? The sun should have been peeking through the curtains. I got out of bed and stumbled my way through the blackness to the living room. As soon as I opened my bedroom door, I was struck with the pungent smell of death and burning garbage. I swallowed back the bile that rose into my throat and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. Before I could find it, two candles lit simultaneously on my dining table at the far end of the room. I cautiously stepped toward the table, weary of the suffocating shadows that engulfed the rest of the room. The table was set for a dinner for two. I tried to keep my breathing even while listening for signs of the person who had broken in. After a minute or so of complete silence, I spun around and ran for the door.

I took 4 steps before running straight into him.

Strong hands wrapped around my arms, holding me so that I didn’t fall backwards after our collision. I screamed as loud as I possibly could as I felt him pick me up like I was a small child. He let out “sssssh”, breathing a sickly sweet aroma into my face. The world began spinning. My fear slipped away with my consciousness.

When I came to, I was sat at the table across from a plain looking man in an expensive looking suit. He smiled nervously while I shook my head to try to clear the fuzziness out of my brain.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said with a voice way deeper than I expected. “Ready for our date?”

“Who the hell are you? Why are you in my house?” My heart was pounding so hard that I could feel it in my throat as I spoke. I wanted to stand, to throw one of the candles at my assailant and run for the door, but I was paralyzed. “What did you do to me?”

“You… you don’t recognize me? We’ve worked together for six months, and you don’t even know my name?” I began to shake after seeing the anger in his deep brown eyes. He took a deep breath. “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re here with me now.”

He picked up a bottle with no label and poured thick, crimson liquid into our wine glasses.

“I’m sorry about the chocolates earlier. I struggle with human delicacies, sometimes. I did my homework for dinner, though.” He clapped his hands, and our plates were suddenly filled with spaghetti.

I took a breath to steady my voice. “H-human delicacies?”

“Uh-uh, no more questions. Eat! You must be starving!” He smiled warmly and winked at me. My left arm involuntarily rose. I tried to stop myself from picking up the fork, but my body wouldn’t listen. I had no control over myself. I pressed my lips together as tightly as possible to stop the noodles from entering my mouth.

“What are you doing? Eat! Don’t be so stubborn,” he insisted. “Ugh, fine.” He dropped his fork onto his plate and waved his hand. My fork fell into my lap and my arm went back to my side. “Your kind can be so ungrateful, you know that? I try to be romantic, which I don’t usually do for my play things by the way, and all I get is resistance. It’s fucking spaghetti, Tiffany. It won’t kill you. If I wanted to do that, I’d be way more creative than poisoning you.”

“What are you?” I could barely get the words out of my mouth. I was shaking so badly that my lips didn’t want to cooperate, and my mouth was so dry it felt full of cotton.

“I’m a demon,” he said flippantly before taking a bite of pasta. “It’s a funny story, really. I was sent topside to watch the boss-man. He made a deal with a big-wig downstairs and was slacking off on paying his bill, if you know what I mean.” He paused, looking at me with a smirk on his face, waiting for me to respond. “Ugh, whatever. Anyway, I was kinda mad at first. There were way better ways I wanted to spend my time than babysitting some douchebag. But then I saw you. I’ll tell you what, having some eye candy really makes the day go smoother. I’ll be honest with you, I don’t usually give a shit about humans, but you… you just have something, you know?”

While he spoke, I had taken a few deep breaths to attempt to calm my nerves. “Please let me go,” I begged. “Please. At least let me move by myself.”

“Fine. If you promise to be a good little girl,” he chuckled.

I felt the weight drop from my limbs. I clenched and unclenched my fists a few times, making sure I really had control. After taking a deep breath to resolve myself, I grabbed my wine glass, broke it on the table, reached across and shoved it in his eye. The animalistic roar that escaped his mouth was deafening. I covered my ears as I ran to my bedroom and locked the door behind me. I could hear him swearing and throwing things around the apartment as I ripped open my bedside table and removed the bible and rosary beads I had inherited from my grandmother. I hadn’t been to church in years, which was something I vowed to change as my admirer began pounding on my bedroom door. I closed my eyes and whispered the first genuine prayer I’d said since I was a little girl.

“Please, please, please, lord, save me. Let this work.”

The wood cracked in the middle of the door, then exploded inward, showering me with splinters as I raised my grandmother’s bible and rosary and recited the only verse I remembered as loud as I could.

“Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

“He can’t help you now you little bitch,” he growled as he approached me.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.”

“I’m going to skin you alive and eat your-“, his words were interrupted as he began to choke. The pitch black that surrounded us began to lighten as I screamed the Lord’s Prayer. I could see the ichor oozing from his eye socket, the claws that had replaced the nails that tipped the fingers which were grasping his closing throat, the needle-like teeth that filled his mouth as he gasped for air.

As I began the prayer a second time, my bedroom was almost fully lit by the sun outside. He was on his knees now, hunched over as the hair fell from his head and his skin began to blister. His hands shook and he screamed in agony. By the time I finished the third repetition, his skin was dripping from his face like candle wax, landing on the hard-wood floor with a sickening “plop”. My throat was raw from screaming every word, but I kept going.

Four, five, six times I said the prayer, each repetition doing more damage than the last. When I began the seventh time, he was a whimpering pile of smoldering bone. When I finished, there was nothing left but ash.

I dropped to the floor, exhausted. As I leaned against my bed with my eyes closed, attempting to catch my breath, the smell of burning flesh was replaced with a sweet smell that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was comforting. For the first time that day, I felt a smile cross my face.

I was jerked out of my pleasant reverie by a loud knock at the door. I forced my aching body to get off the floor and answer it. I laughed quietly when I looked through the peephole to see two cops. They looked on edge when I opened the door.

“Ma’am, we got a call that there was some screaming coming from your home. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, sir. Everything’s fine.”

“Is anyone here with you, ma’am?”

“No, sir. I’m all alone.”

One of the officers looked over my shoulder. I could tell by the look on his face and the tightening grip on his gun that he saw the destruction. “What the hell happened in there?!”

“Well… are you a religious man?”



Submitted June 29, 2018 at 10:06PM by cmd102 https://ift.tt/2MxV7La

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