Obsessed

"...it sticks to me, it draws me, it sucks at me. Its mode of being is neither the reassuring inertia of the solid nor a dynamism..." -Jean-Paul Sartre, "Being and Nothingness"



         "Don't you have anything to eat in this place?" Cynthia whined into the refrigerator. "I'm starving!"

Eric looked her up and down as he lounged on the sofa in his studio apartment. The refrigerator light was like a spotlight on her contrasted with the darkness of the apartment. She was gorgeous leaning into that refrigerator, her thong-clad, peachy bottom peeking out from under his oversized t-shirt. Her auburn curls tangled across her shoulders, cascading down her back. She still had sex hair.

She rummaged, opening drawers and moving around jars of random condiments. "Oooh! Is that pudding back there? Is it pistachio? Pleeeeeease tell me it's pistachio, that's my favorite!" She swung away from the fridge to look at him. "How long has it been in there?"

"Yep, made it this morning." He stood and crossed the room, his nude, muscular body silhouetted against the flicker of the television. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and pressed his body against hers. "I don't think you're gonna have time to eat it though..." He nibbled her throat. She pulled away and turned to face him, kissing him sloppily, then giving him a light slap on the cheek.

"Like hell, I'm too hungry to think about all that." She gestured downward.

She flung herself on the sofa, landing with a flop, bowl of pudding cradled in one arm, spoon in hand. She grabbed the remote with the other and flipped through the channels as she shoveled a spoonful of pudding into her mouth. She reached for the lamp on the table next to the sofa, and his hand was there to stop her before she knew what happened. "Leave the lights off." She started, almost dropping her bowl. "Please."

"Ok, jeez, calm down. Oh my GOD this is SO good!" Cynthia rolled her eyes in ecstasy as she shoved another bite of pudding into her mouth. He watched her with contempt. She was so unbelievably dramatic about everything, it was one of the many things he couldn't stand about her.

They had met online on one of those dating sites. It wasn't difficult for him to find women, but it was difficult to find women who measured up to the standard he needed to maintain. He needed them young, healthy, and beautiful. Personality and intelligence were irrelevant, he wouldn't be with any of them for too long, all he needed was to feed his addiction.

He sat on the sofa next to her, studying the light playing with her features. She was so young, her family and friends would come looking for her. No matter, he could disappear if he wanted, he had done it plenty of times. She was only one in a long line of young women chosen to satiate the hunger which dwelled inside his hollow shell.

"Whaaat?" She caught him staring and nudged him on the arm. "I'm almost done with this..." She said, suggestively licking the spoon. "We could go back to bed now if you want."

He chuckled softly. "We could." He couldn't stand another minute of her.

He leaned in, kissing her deeply. She tasted like pudding. He took the bowl from her hands and set it on the coffee table. Clutching the back of her head, he forcefully thrust his tongue deep into her mouth, her eyes snapped open as she tried to struggle from his clutches. She began to punch at his chest, and kick his shins. He felt none of it. She clawed at him, gouging a chunk from his cheek. Mucus trickled, green and pus-like from the wound. She tried to scream, but his mouth violently pressed against hers muffled her cries.

The warmth of thick mucus rose in his throat, spilling into her mouth and dripping sloppily from both of their chins.

Her gag signaled it was time to pull away. Her eyes bulged, her hand clawed at her throat as the slime oozed from her mouth, morphing from clear to greenish in hue. She tried to speak, but couldn't anymore.

"Thank God." Eric thought.

Her face sagged as it liquefied, it looked like a cheap halloween mask melting in an oven. The slime gushed from her eyes and ears. She stumbled around for a few moments, blindly she thrashed, breaking his lamp and upturning the coffee table. She tried to get to the door, but her legs gave way beneath her. Her bones could no longer support her petite frame. Within a matter of minutes they would be completely digested.

The growing pool of slime on the floor undulated, writhing itself into form. As the last of Cynthia dissolved, a new woman began to take shape. She grew tall, and sharp features began to emerge on her face. Her body sculpted from the sickening phlegm was reminisce of a Roman goddess. She was nothing short of stunning.

"Eric strode to her. "You are glorious... are you pleased, my beloved?" Eric stroked her as she reached the last stages of metamorphosis. He drew threads of mucus from her, and licked the slime from his fingers.

She stretched luxuriously and held her hands in front of her face. No orbs rested in her eye sockets, only the rippling goo from which she came.

"I am, darling," she purred from her lovely throat. "It's so good to be whole again, thank you." She snaked her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. "We need to act swiftly." She said, taking his hands into hers. "You know I can't be without you for long."

"Yes mistress," Eric replied, tenderly kissing her inner wrist. His lips glistened with her essence. "We'll start looking for another right away."