Chapter 1: The Date from Hell!
Valkyrie was early.
She glanced out the window, watching the city move beneath the cold evening sky. It was 7PM. People hurried home from their day jobs, bundled in coats, rushing toward warmth and comfort.
She sighed, shifting in her seat. The bar was surprisingly empty for a Friday night. A local BBQ place—one she had been to before. Unfortunately, her last visit involved a date who had a nasty habit of picking his nose and inspecting it like a jeweller examining a diamond before casually flicking it away.
Her stomach twisted at the memory. Why did I come here again?
The answer was simple: Amber.
“Oh, come on, Val,” Amber had insisted just last week. “So you had a bad date...again. It happens to the best of us! You just have to keep trying.”
Val had shaken her head. “Amber, you don’t get it. You and Mace are freaking soulmates. Meanwhile, mine probably died, and I have to wait to be reincarnated.”
Amber had punched her arm—too hard. “Just give it another try, Val!”
Now here she was. Trying.
She was so lost in thought that she didn’t notice the tall figure standing in front of her until—
“Ahem.”
Her head snapped up.
“Are you Valkyrie?” the man asked.
She blinked. He was...decent-looking. Tall, with a broad frame and a head of messy blonde curls. His hair looked a little greasy, but maybe it was just the light.
Plastering on a polite smile, she stood. “Hi, Harri. I’m Val.” She extended her hand for a handshake.
He took it.
Her stomach dropped.
His hand was wet. And sticky.
She swallowed hard, willing her expression to remain neutral. Sweaty palms? Nervousness? A million explanations raced through her mind, none of them good.
She sat down, subtly wiping her palm against her mini skirt as the waitress arrived to pour water and rattle off the specials.
“What are you getting?” Harri asked, flipping his menu open.
“I think I’ll have the Caesar salad,” she said, trying to sound upbeat despite the rocky start.
“Good choice,” he nodded. “I’ll get the ribs with extra sauce”
Harri signalled the waitress and placed their order. Val took the opportunity to study him properly. Strong jaw, big frame...he almost looked like the dad from The Incredibles.
His eyes met hers, and something flickered there—confidence? Amusement? Or was she imagining it?
“So, what do you do for work?” Harri asked, casually sipping his water.
“I’m a Market Research Analyst,” Val said. “And you?”
A slow smile spread across his face.
“Well, I don’t really have a job per se,” he said, watching her closely. “But I do dabble in stock investments.” He lifted his glass again, as if gauging her reaction.
Val tensed. There was something about him—something off.
Still, she pushed the feeling aside. Maybe she was being paranoid.
By the time their food arrived, the weird tension had almost faded.
“For the lady a Caesar salad. And for you, sir, a plate of ribs.” The waitress set down their plates and walked away.
Val picked up her fork, but before she could take a bite, she froze.
Harri was eating with his hands.
Not just picking at his food—full-on ripping the meat apart and shoving them into his mouth. Sauce dripped down his chin, smeared across his fingers, staining his shirt.
A pile of bones started to appear in the middle of the table, he picked up another and as he placed it inside his mouth and pulled the bone out, there was so much sauce the bone slipped out of his hand and landed right into her salad.
She stared at the bone her stomach twisted, she looked up and he smiled sheepishly and continued to dig in.
Then, things got worse.
He kept dropping things. His knife, his fork, his cup, even the pile of bones. Each time, he ducked under the table to retrieve them.
The first couple of times, she brushed it off as clumsiness.
Then it happened again.
And again.
And again.
Something wasn’t right.
She suddenly realised he hadn’t resurfaced for a long time.
“Harri?” she called hesitantly.
No answer.
A strange, wet sensation dripped onto her toe.
Her blood ran cold.
A big wet something enveloped her big right toe.
She looked down her breath caught in her throat.
Harri was under the table, covered in sauce. But that wasn’t the worst part.
His mouth covered her big toe, sucking on it.
Val lurched backward, kicking him off and heart hammering.
“What the F*CK is wrong with you??“* she shrieked.
Harri peeked up from under the table embarrassed “Th-there was sauce on your toe, so I..”
Val cut him off “So you sucked it off my toe?” Val shocked “that is disgusting, why the F*ck would you do that??“.
She looked down at her wet and glistening big toe.
His eyes darkened.
She saw it—the pure, twisted lust in his expression.
A wave of nausea rolled over her.
“You’re a f*cking creep!” she spat, grabbing her purse. “If I ever see you again, I swear I will kick you in the face with the feet you clearly love so much!”
With that, she stormed out of the bar, not caring that the entire place had gone silent.
The cold air hit her like a slap, but she barely noticed. Tears burned behind her eyes as she walked aimlessly, her mind reeling.
“Why can’t I just find someone normal?!”
