Benny was blowing up her phone with texts. She didn't reply to any of them.
What was she going to tell him anyway?
That she got into the wrong car and turned into some kind of super monster?
Yeah, right.
Throughout the day, she felt normal, or at least she thought she did. She spent hours observing herself, waiting for something to feel off.
But nothing happened. Maybe she could go to school tomorrow, she thought with a heavy sigh.
She looked like total shit, though.
Groaning, she dragged herself to her bedroom mirror.
The frame was dark and jagged, lined with tiny zombie figurines that seemed to leer at her with their lifeless eyes.
The walls were covered in posters from her favorite zombie shows and movies, splashes of green and black dominating the room.
Her bedding featured decayed hands reaching out of the earth, and even her lamp cast an eerie glow from its skull-shaped shade.
The entire room screamed obsession.
But tonight, her reflection screamed something else entirely.
She ripped off her PJ shorts, the fabric sticking to her skin from how long she'd been in them.
Only in her oversized zombie-print shirt, she stood there feeling utterly vulnerable, as if her own flesh was foreign.
The higher the moon climbed, the bolder she felt, like her hesitation was burning away, replaced by a dangerous confidence she didn't recognize.
It was as though she wasn't entirely herself anymore.
Her hands worked through her blonde hair, untangling the knots.
She'd always hated the color, thinking it made her look fragile, like some kind of porcelain doll.
Sure, people told her she was pretty, but she never believed them.
Her features felt wrong, out of place, like puzzle pieces forced together.
That's why she buried herself in baggy clothes.
But now…
Now, her gaze lingered on the mirror. The woman staring back at her wasn't hiding anymore.
Her hands moved to her breasts, a faint smile playing on her lips. And then she heard it.
"You are so beautiful, Rexan."
Her heart stopped, a scream ripping out of her throat as she stumbled backward. She stared, wide-eyed, at her reflection.
Her chest heaved as if trying to expel whatever had just spoken.
She turned abruptly, throwing on a lace bralette, matching panties, and socks.
She needed air, now. Leaning out the window, she felt the cool night breeze wash over her, calming her frayed nerves.
Below, she spotted him, a guy bent over the hood of his car, fiddling with something under the open engine.
He must have felt her gaze because he suddenly looked up, locking eyes with her.
He smiled, a cocky grin that made her stomach flip.
"Hi," she said, her voice coming out as a sexy rasp that surprised even her.
He straightened, shirtless, his loose jeans hanging just low enough to tease. "Hi, pretty… Wanna get out of here?"
She giggled, leaning forward slightly. "Yes."
And then she jumped.
Her feet landed in his arms, and he caught her in a crushing embrace, his laughter rumbling in his chest.
The wind whipped past her as he drove through the night, the lonely bridge stretching out endlessly before them.
The adrenaline in her veins made her feel alive in a way she hadn't felt in days.
The moon hung heavy above them, its glow intoxicating.
"Stop the car," she commanded, her voice firm.
He did, looking at her with curiosity as she grabbed him and kissed him fiercely.
"Get on the hood," she purred, her tone leaving no room for argument.
He smiled with anticipation, stepping out of the car and positioning himself on the hood as she followed.
Her socked feet touched the icy ground, the cold biting at her skin, but it only heightened the thrill.
He stared at her as she sauntered toward him, the moonlight dancing across her bare legs. "Damn, Emily, I didn't know you were this fine," he said, his voice dripping with admiration.
She tilted her head, a sly smile curling her lips. "What's your name again?"
"Ethan," he answered, his teeth bright in the moonlight.
Her hand wrapped around his neck, squeezing just enough to make his eyes widen.
"Ethan," she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue like a secret.
He laughed nervously. "Uh, you're strangling me," he gasped as her grip tightened.
She leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. "I can't hear you," she whispered, her tone coy and dangerous.
His face turned blue, his hands clawing at hers, but it only fueled her.
The desperation in his eyes was intoxicating. With one final squeeze, she crushed his skull between her hands, the sound wet and sickening.
Before the body could even slump, she tore into the exposed brain, devouring it in one swift, grotesque gulp.
"Oh, how delicious," she moaned, her voice dripping with satisfaction.