Inspired by an urban legend. I forgot the name of it tho ðŸ˜
The city sprawled before Rody Lamoree like a sea of shimmering lights, a deceptive contrast to the storm raging in his chest. He sat alone at the bar, swirling his whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light. Another fight with Manon. Another pointless argument that had turned their home into a battlefield. This time, it was about something small—what to make for dinner, or maybe the laundry. Rody couldn’t even remember. It was always something trivial that ignited the spark, but the fire raged out of control once lit.
His marriage was a prison now, the love that had once been so strong eroded away by years of resentment and frustration. Every moment with her felt like a burden. The sight of her, the sound of her voice, the way she moved—everything grated on him, pulling him deeper into a pit of loathing.
He used to love her, once. But that felt like a different lifetime. Now, every glance they exchanged was filled with venom, every word laced with disdain. It was suffocating.
And tonight, he couldn’t take it anymore.
So here he was, in a run-down bar, trying to drink away the weight of his life. He hated how predictable it all was—sitting there, watching the clock, knowing that eventually, he’d have to go back to her. To that house. To that life.
But then he saw her.
She stood out even in the dim, smoky haze of the bar. Tall, elegant, and impossibly beautiful. Her hair was dark and lustrous, cascading down her back like a waterfall of ink. Her eyes were deep, liquid pools of black that seemed to draw him in the moment he caught her gaze. She wore a long, sleek black dress that hugged her figure, the kind of dress that belonged in a ballroom, not a dive bar.
She was perfect. Otherworldly.
Rody’s breath caught in his throat, and before he could stop himself, he downed the rest of his drink and approached her. His feet moved on their own, driven by something primal, something that cut through the fog of guilt that lingered in his chest. The closer he got, the more intoxicating she became.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice low and rough, betraying his nerves.
She turned towards him, her lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile. Up close, she was even more striking. Her skin was pale, almost too pale, but flawless, like marble carved by a master sculptor.
“That depends,” she replied, her voice smooth as silk, sending a shiver down his spine. “Are you single?”
Rody’s heart skipped a beat. His wedding band felt like a weight on his finger, an iron shackle that tied him to his miserable life. He could feel it there, pressing against his skin, but in that moment, it didn’t matter.
He slipped his hand into his pocket, hiding the ring from view. “Yeah,” he lied. “I’m single.”
Her smile widened, and something in her eyes glimmered with a dangerous allure. “Good. Come sit with me.”
They sat together at a small table, and the conversation flowed easily. Her name was Vanessa, and everything about her was magnetic. She had a way of speaking, a way of looking at him that made Rody feel like the only person in the world. It was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years—a far cry from the cold, distant interactions he had with Manon.
Vanessa asked him questions, drawing him out, making him forget about everything outside of this moment. She leaned in close, her perfume intoxicating, a subtle floral scent that made his head swim. Her fingers brushed his hand, sending jolts of electricity through his body.
It wasn’t long before the suggestion came.
“Why don’t we get out of here?” she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear. The heat of her breath sent a thrill down his spine, a promise of something more.
Rody knew he shouldn’t. Every fiber of his being told him to walk away, to go home, to fix things with Manon. But the idea of returning to that life, to the endless cycle of misery, was unbearable.
So he nodded, his heart racing, his pulse quickening with anticipation. Vanessa stood, taking his hand in hers, and led him out of the bar into the cool night air. The city lights glowed dimly in the distance, but all Rody could focus on was her. The way she moved, the way her fingers felt against his skin. She led him through the winding streets to her apartment, a sleek, modern building that towered over the narrow alleyways below.
Inside, the apartment was as luxurious as she was. Minimalist decor, dark and elegant, with large windows that overlooked the city. The air smelled faintly of jasmine, and soft, ambient music played in the background.
Rody barely had time to take in his surroundings before Vanessa was on him, her lips crashing against his with a hunger that bordered on desperation. He kissed her back, his hands fumbling to pull her closer, his mind a whirl of lust and adrenaline. She was everything he wanted in that moment—an escape, a release from the suffocating reality of his life.
They made their way to the bedroom, a sleek, dark space dominated by a massive bed draped in black silk sheets. Vanessa pushed him onto the bed, her body moving with a predatory grace as she straddled him, her hands roaming over his chest, his stomach, igniting every nerve in his body.
Rody closed his eyes, losing himself in the sensation, the thrill of being wanted. But something changed. Slowly, the air in the room grew heavier, the weight of her body on top of him more oppressive. He opened his eyes to say something—maybe a joke to break the tension—but what he saw stole the breath from his lungs.
Vanessa’s face had shifted, twisted into something monstrous. Her once beautiful features were now grotesque, her eyes dark pits that seemed to swallow all light, her lips pulled back to reveal rows of sharp, jagged teeth. Her nails—once delicate—had lengthened into claws that pressed against his chest, sharp enough to draw blood with the slightest movement.
Rody’s heart pounded in his chest, panic surging through him as he tried to push her off, but her strength was unimaginable. She held him down effortlessly, her nails digging into his skin, pinning him to the bed as she leaned closer, her breath hot against his neck.
“Please,” he gasped, his voice trembling with fear. “Please, stop—”
Vanessa laughed, a low, guttural sound that sent chills through Rody’s spine. Her voice was no longer the smooth, alluring tone from earlier—it was harsh, mocking.
“Stop?” she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear, her jagged teeth so close he could feel the coldness of them. “But why would I stop when we’re just getting started?”
Rody struggled beneath her, his muscles straining against her iron grip, but it was no use. She was impossibly strong, her body heavy and unyielding, pressing him deeper into the bed. He could feel the sharpness of her claws drawing blood now, warm rivulets running down his chest as she grinned down at him.
Her once beautiful skin seemed to shimmer, shifting in the dim light of the room. It was as if her whole form was unravelling before him, revealing something far darker beneath the surface. The pale, flawless exterior crumbled away like ashes, leaving behind a creature that barely resembled the woman he had followed so willingly. Her skin was now mottled and cracked, her eyes glowing with a sickly yellow hue, her mouth twisted in a grotesque, hungry smile.
Rody’s heart raced, his mind scrambling for some way out, some way to escape the nightmare that had taken hold of him. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be real.
“You lied,” Vanessa hissed, her breath hot and rancid against his face. “You’re not single. You’re just like the rest of them—weak, pathetic, crawling away from the life you built.”
She dug her claws deeper into his skin, and Rody screamed, the pain blinding as his body spasmed beneath her. His hands shot up to push her off, but his fingers met nothing but cold, rough skin, slick with his own blood.
“Do you know what happens to men like you?” she asked, her voice almost playful now. “Men who betray the ones they love, men who think they can escape the consequences?”
Rody’s breaths came in ragged gasps, his vision blurring as the edges of the room seemed to close in on him. Every fiber of his being wanted to scream, to fight, to run—but there was no escape. Vanessa leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his neck, her jagged teeth grazing the skin.
“You end up just like them,” she whispered, her voice cold and sharp. “Dead.”
With a swift, brutal motion, she sank her teeth into his throat.
The pain was immediate and excruciating, like white-hot fire spreading through his veins. Rody’s scream was cut short as the blood poured from his neck, filling his lungs, drowning him from the inside. He thrashed beneath her, but it was useless. Her teeth tore through his flesh with the ease of a predator feasting on its prey, the sound of tearing muscle and splintering bone filling the air.
As his vision began to fade, Rody could hear her laughter—cold, mocking, and endless. It echoed in his mind, growing louder with each passing second, until it was all he could hear, all he could think about.
And then, there was nothing.
The city outside continued to shimmer, unaware of the horror that had unfolded in the dark corners of its streets. Another victim, another soul lost to the predator that walked among them, wearing the skin of a beautiful woman.
Vanessa stood from the bed, her face returning to its flawless, human form, the grotesque features melting away as easily as they had come. She looked down at Rody’s lifeless body, a satisfied smile curling her lips as she wiped the blood from her mouth.
He had been just like the others—weak, desperate, and all too willing to fall into her trap.
She turned and walked towards the window, the city lights reflecting in her dark, predatory eyes. The hunt would begin again soon. There was always another one, another man with lies on his tongue and a hollow heart, searching for something he would never find.
And Vanessa would be waiting.
God she hated men. They were all unfaithful pigs.
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