“She’s batshit crazy,” Roger said from behind his computer monitor. “Hot as fuck, but batshit crazy. I mean we broke up two weeks, and she still keeps sending messages like this.”
He passed his iPhone over the gray cubicle wall to Jimmy Fitzgerald better known as Fitzy, Roger’s friend and voice of reason since high school. Fitzy scrolled through the messages from the contact “DO NOT REPLY” in Roger’s phone. The one-sided conversations had started two weeks ago when Roger called his girlfriend of three months to break up. It wasn’t that Valerie was a bad girlfriend or not his type; she was exactly his type with lush red hair and shapely legs.
The only reason they weren’t together was because she couldn’t understand boundaries when they were together let alone after they had broken up. Her obsession had almost ruined Roger’s career at the accounting firm when she started hiding in the back of his car to follow him into the office. It wasn’t until office security found her waiting in the break room without a visitor’s pass and escorted her out that Roger’s boss called him into the office. It was a nightmare, and one that Roger thought was over.
Fitzy read the most recent text message aloud, “Are you going to come over tonight and we can talk about this? I miss you snuggle monster.”
Roger smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand as Fitzy’s spoke loud enough, in his thick Baltimore accent, to be heard by everyone within earshot and followed by his unforgettable cackling.
“Oh and this one,” Fitzy said. “What do you mean extra time apart? Are you planning a romantic surprise?”
“You just had to read them out loud, huh?” Roger asked sarcastically. “Mindy told me to get a restraining order, but it would probably just ...
... middle of paper ...
...inutes she was close to climax, and she sucked the last of Roger’s life force from his body. Valerie slid off Roger’s corpse, careful not to get any more blood on herself. After washing her hands and arms, she returned to the bedroom to get dressed. The skin fell from her like an old shell, turning to dust as it fell. Her new face was wider with slanted eyes, and her hair changed from a blazing vermilion to a cool ash blond.
“I am not a crazy girl,” she whispered to him. “I’m every crazy girl.”
Just for good measure, she drove the knife through the mark on Roger’s chest, severing their connection.
“Thanks for a great meal,” she said.
On her way out, she dropped the bloody knife into the sink along with the other dirty dishes. She zipped up her leather jacket before closing the apartment door on Roger and her old identity. Tomorrow was the beginning of a new hunt.
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