She makes me feel ways that I've never known before. The first time I saw Desirae, I thought my heart would climb right out of my throat, strut over to her, and kiss her on the cheek. My hands would sweat. My heart would pound. My mind would become foggy. But strangest of all, my mouth would water.
I wanted her in every way imaginable. I wanted to hold her hand. I wanted to taste her lips. I had to have her.
Unfortunately, I'm a coward, and I could only desire her from afar. From elementary school to college, I watched her blossom into a beautiful woman. My desires only became stronger as time went on, and the haze in my head became screams.
One day, in a particularly bold move, I approached her in the campus rec-room. She was playing a game of pool by herself, which I saw as a chance to get close. My heart stomped in my eardrums, and my mouth filled with the words I wanted to say. Well, that, and some saliva.
She looked at me and I knew she heard every lecherous thought I had ever conceived about her. She smiled and waved.
"Hey, Corey!" she said warmly. "Wanna play some pool?"
Holy hell, it's happening. Keep it together, Corey. Don't turn into a drooling idiot.
I shuffled over to her and grabbed a cue from the wall. After racking up the balls, she decided to break.
As she bent over, my eyes slithered over the nape of her neck and drunk in every bit of skin that they could. I had to wipe my mouth of the saliva that was pooling inside.
She wound back, and my skin tried to recoil off of my skeleton from the ensuing explosion. Goddamn, that girl can break.
After easily destroying me at three games, Desirae invited me to grab dinner from the cafeteria. In the first smooth move of my life, I invited her to dinner at a local Chinese restaurant instead. To my surprise, she agreed. We climbed into my piece-of-shit beater and went cruising down the road.
Sensing my nervousness about the whole situation, Desirae kept the conversation going by asking me questions about myself and my family. She asked if my dad still owned the little deli back home and if I still ran the slicer, if I still intended to major in history, what my hobbies were these days, and little things like that. It felt nice to have someone interested, even a little, in me.
"Truth be told, I haven't had the best transition to college," Desirae said quietly. "I haven't made a lot of friends, and it's already halfway through the second semester. I'm just glad to have a familiar face to chat with."
When she said that, she smiled broadly. I nearly wrecked from excitement. I never thought I'd be here, let alone with Desirae.
By the time we made it to the little Chinese place, it was packed with other students. The staff said it'd be an hour or more to get a table. Desirae offered a solution that nearly sent me into cardiac arrest.
"Why don't we just grab a pizza and watch a movie in your dorm?" she said.
Fuck. Fuck! Desirae? In my room? Sweet dreams are made of this!
"Sure." I said, fighting tooth and nail to hide my excitement.
We picked up the pizza and I grabbed some shitty B-rate horror movie off of my bookshelf. Desirae had told me that this was actually a favorite of hers, and that she'd seen it quite a few times.
It was about some cannibal clown who preyed on horny students. You know, typical slasher stuff?
As the movie chugged along, Desirae and I took turns quoting the movie to each other. It was a blast, but eventually she turned away and reached into her backpack. When she turned back around, she was wearing a golf ball-sized clown nose. She put her hand on my thigh and asked sweetly, "What do you think I taste like?"
The drooling started.
"I don't know..." I stuttered out. "But I want to."
"Funny," she said. "I've been curious about what you taste like for years now."
This statement caught me off guard in the best of ways. What happened next, well it was not as exciting.
"And I finally get to find out," Desirae said in a bit of a sinister whisper.
Before I could find out what she meant, she had revealed a knife from her backpack. The damn thing looked like a prop, but my instincts and the hair on my neck standing-up? They told me otherwise.
She plunged the blade into the gap between my ribs and I felt all the air suck out of my lungs. My mouth filled with the taste of iron. My vision got fuzzy.
"I bet you thought you'd get a taste of me," Desirae said, her voice a deep growl. "But I'll take a bite out of you..."
Twisting the knife caused a chunk of my side to slide onto the bed. Desirae picked it up, tossed it into her open mouth, and chomped down. Her hands flew to her temples and she moaned.
"It's heavenly!" she cried. "Just wonderful! I need more!"
Blood loss was taking hold and Desirae seemed to recognize this. She jammed part of my sheet into the open wound and pressed down.
"You look pale, Corey," she said sweetly. "Let me warm you up."
She climbed into my lap and wrapped her legs around my waist. If I wasn't fucking dying, I'd be turned on. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and she leaned into the nape of my neck.
"I felt your eyes on me earlier," she whispered. "I doubt this is how you expected this to go, getting murdered and eaten by your childhood crush? Seems almost poetic that we'd wanted each other for long, but neither knew. At least you got to have part of a life?"
Her teeth slammed deeply into my shoulder, and I felt blood trickle down my back. She bit harder and began to pull, which only caused my flesh to tear away, leaving a crimson crevice behind. She started chewing her spoils and smiled a bloody smile.
"You're sweeter than fine chocolate, Corey," she said. "I think I'm in love."
Desirae unzipped her backpack and revealed medical tools and surgical supplies. Rubber tubing, a hacksaw, and smelling salts filled the bottom of the bag. The things that seemed out of place was a hammer and bolt-cutters.
I wish I hadn't wondered about that damn hammer.
No sooner than I started to wonder, Desirae smashed me across the head, knocking me out instantly. I woke up to a rancid odor, something more putrid than cat piss. Fucking smelling salts, man.
I looked down and saw my limbs were tied tightly with surgical tubing and Desirae was working her way from extremity to extremity, sawing until she hit bone. The bolt-cutters were brought out once bone was exposed. I tried to cry out, but my tongue was numb. My whole mouth was numb.
I got scared. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a fantasy come true. This was a fucking crime scene. This was my obituary, the final chapter of my life being written right before my eyes.
Desirae picked up my leg like it was a chicken drumstick. She started chewing into my thigh and I felt like vomiting.
"Corey, you really have tasted as good as you looked," she said. "It's a shame there's not more of you, or else I'd still be chewing."
She heaved me into an upright position and I was forced to watch as she nibbled and gnawed at each limb like they were made of red velvet. After her macabre meal was done, Desirae picked up the hammer.
"I love you, Corey," she said as she stroked my cheek with her free palm. "Now, you'll always be a part of me. Sweet dreams, dear."
The girl of my dreams wound back her arm as far as she could and swung the hammer with a might that rivaled most strongmen. A sickening "crack" filled my ears and my neck gave out, causing my head to slump over. The pain was immense, but I didn't get to experience it for long. She was merciful with the second swing, which was somehow mightier than the first.
My life was over, but I bet Desirae felt more alive than ever.