Aranea

The story
We met on OkCupid. I don’t like admitting this, but unfortunately there is no time left for shame or reputation.

I had just been through a pretty rough break-up and I didn’t feel like the whole bar-pickup-routine yet. But browsing around for potential rebounds on the internet meant I could just continue sitting at home in my boxershort living on Jack Daniels and frozen pizza. We’ve all been there.

So, there she was. Brunette. Great figure, fierce eyes and a snarling smile. Her screen name was ‘Araneae’ and she was a beacon of attractiveness in a sea of otherwise rather mediocre women at best. Her written profile was a bit awkward though. It seemed filled out in a rush, hardly giving any info. The only thing she did elaborate on was sex. She made it really clear that this was a big priority, making me think that this was either a fake profile or that of somebody with nymphomaniac tendencies. But those pictures. God. I clearly remember her sitting straight up with her legs crossed, naked but obscured by her long hair and shadows. Mockingly looking straight at the camera, as if to say ‘good luck, you bunch of socially awkward nerds’.

Writing this is the only way I can get my mind off of what’s to come. So forgive me if I digress, but escaping in this writing is all I’ve got left.

Actually, I didn’t even feel like messaging her. If it wasn’t a fake profile she probably got hundreds of messages from desperate guys anyway. Now, I’m not a bad looking guy, and this whole internet dating thing was just a convenient way to get back on the saddle, but still she seemed a bit out of my league. I was really wondering why the fuck she needed to be on a site like this.

Then she messaged me.

‘So yeah, I saw you checked out my profile. You seem different than the other guys. Wanna meet up?’ - Nea.’

Really? This easy? A small pinch of distrust gnawed at me. Then I took a look at the overflowing ashtrays and whisky bottles littering my room. I scratched my two week old beard. Ahw hell.

We met up in a bar. It would’ve been much better for this story if it was a seedy place, but it wasn’t. Neither was it swanky. It was just one of those regular bars, one that was convenient for both of us. It didn’t matter though, even if we had met in a sewage processing plant I’d still have been completely smitten with her. As soon as she stepped in, all the guys in the bar turned their heads. And I am not exaggerating here. ALL the guys turned to look at her. And followed her with their heads as she walked up to me and kissed me on the cheek. I felt like the coolest dude in the world at that moment.

I hear sirens. Could it be that finally...no, they passed. I don’t know exactly how much time has passed, but I’m sure I’ve been reported missing by now.

So there she was. Tall. Low cut black dress. Eyeliner around almond eyes that made her face even more feral. That snarling smile baring perfectly straight teeth. And her smell, God, that smell. It was overwhelming. Musky. Animal. But I never met anyone that smelled that good. Every time she moved her arm to emphasize a word or raise her glass of wine I caught it, and it drove me wild. Each little whiff of that mesmerizing scent got me closer to a primal state of pure sexual lust.

We talked for maybe an hour. She was a good conversationalist, but there was still something awkward about our talks. It seemed she had no interest at all in regular topics such as music, art or movies. She was very quick in steering the conversation away from that. Back to me. She seemed extremely curious about my last relationship and history with women. I told her some funny stories about awkward moments I’ve had with women, at which she laughed before pressing on with the questions. I’ve never talked that much about sex on a first date ever, and she greedily ate up every one of my stories.

We went to her place that same night. I offered to take her to dinner but she said we could ‘order in’. Knowing perfectly well what that meant, I hastily paid the tab and basically hijacked the first taxi available. As soon as we got in, she was all over me. If she hadn’t had her hand down my pants I might’ve taken notice of the address she gave the cab driver. If she hadn’t been smothering me with aggressive kisses the entire trip I might’ve known where the hell I am right now. But she’s smart like that.

As soon as we were inside (passionately making out the whole way from the cab to the front door) she offered me a drink. Her apartment was bare, all the blinds were closed and she had hardly any furniture. No pictures on the walls either. I didn’t think much of it then, thought she was probably one of those minimalists. The cocktail she brought me was refreshing. Kind of like a Sidecar, really sour and tangy. But delicious at the same time.

Then she jumped me again. She threw me on the couch, one of the few pieces of furniture she owned, and before I knew it we were ravaging each other. I’m not writing this for you to get your kicks, so I won’t go into details. But it was hard. It was mean. Her scent unleashed all my primal desires. It was heaven.

Until the room started spinning. Until our movements got me into a trance and I started tripping out. She was straddling me, sitting on top of me and holding me down. I couldn’t move. And then the flashes started. Her perfect body distorting for milliseconds. There were too many black eyes. There were spindly, chitinous legs. Sometimes her body seemed to exist of too many sections. And her smell, so mesmerising at first, became rotten and dusty. Like flies that have been drying for too long in a windowsill. Her nails in my chest started to hurt, but she was still riding me with grim determination. The flashes became quicker, like a stroboscope. She kept changing before me. Legs. Eyes. Mandibles. Chitin. Flesh. Teeth. I was horrified. I wanted to cry, to gag, to get out, but she had me pinned.

And I came.

As soon as I did, she started laughing. A horrible, triumphant laugh, while I lay sobbing beneath her. But suddenly the laughing made place for a snarl. A disgusted, disappointed grunt. She screamed. That scream. That horrible, animal, otherworldly scream. I still shudder when I think of it. She looked down at me with fierce hatred in her eyes, and started to maul me.

She beat me black and blue. I think she even broke my nose. I was covered in a flurry of punches, bites and scratches until I passed out.

And woke up in this room. This room filled with human bones. This windowless room with those strange, dried up leathery egg shaped things. Egg shaped things with holes in them, like something had crawled out some time ago. I can hear her scuttling outside. Once or twice a day she comes in to bring me a sandwich and some water. Sometimes she sits with me and strokes my hair. Softly singing a terrible song that makes me die a little bit inside.

I think I know what she wants from me. I think I know why she´s keeping me alive. I must´ve been here for nearly a month now. It´ll be that time again soon.

I wonder how long it takes for her to find out I´m infertile.

Credited to TeaWithCrowley