Garret would soon realize he had molested the wrong young lady as she turned to him, her eyes maddened, yet blood-red with lust, and tore his throat out with her teeth.
Like all women, he thought grimly to himself as he sank to his knees. Dying, he savored the comfort that at least there was an ending to it, a stopping place for a life that had seemed all too full of pain.
Suddenly he found himself on his feet again, not quite knowing how he had gotten there, his throat intact. Again his hands were rising to a too-friendly embrace of the woman he'd met just hours before, and again she rounded on him in savage attack.
This happened again and again and he remembered every time until finally, at last he was able to speak a few short, shocked words before she crushed his throat.
"Just want to go home...how...let me die!"
Her face lit up larger than the Circus Circus sign.
"We told you," she hissed, and he saw that her tongue was long, forked and dark red, not pink and soft as he'd hoped when he'd met her over drinks and lied about being a brain surgeon. "We told you," and here she began to cackle, softly at first but spiraling upwards...
"We told you...what happens in Vegas...stays in Vegas!"
Then he felt her teeth sink in and the warm spurt of his own blood flowing down his neck. It was not the first time...and would not be the last.
Original credit.
3 comments:
Dark indeed. Great story, Ben!
I thought that what happened to me in Vegas would stay in Vegas! How did you find out?!?
We of the Gestapo know everything.
(Anyone know the reference?)
But I'm sorry to hear that, Generik. Can I offer you a lozenge?
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