Hey, Casanova
The interaction between her and I had been very brief but one that I’d remember for a very long time. Of course, with my looks and the overwhelming friendliness I exuded, people seemed to just flock to me. However, the spitfire walking away from me right now was the complete opposite. I thought about the last few moments, about our conversation, about my new interest.
I wasn’t paying attention as I walked down the sidewalk. Apparently, she wasn’t either. I was too consumed with the degrading article in the magazine I had just bought and too miffed to notice the short woman who was about to walk right into me. The paper crumpled at my stomach when her chest smashed right into it.
“Oh, god, I am so sorry!” Her words were immediately spilling off her tongue while it took me a moment to realize what happened to me and another second to process her.
She had black hair, pulled into two spiky buns under her ears with silver clips holding loose tendrils. She wore a black sweater, tucked into a black pencil skirt with black combat boots to match. Her face was bare, no makeup which allowed those dark circles to show yet somehow, she pulled it off.
I couldn’t help but think: Could we look any more opposite from one another?
“Your magazine, it’s ruined. Here, I’ll give you some money to get a new one-”
“Don’t bother,” I grumbled and tossed the paper into the street, enjoying the sight of it getting run over by the incoming traffic. “The article was shit.”
I made a mental note to figure out who wrote the column titled ‘New Cupid For Hire’ and visit them personally.
This specific Jane Doe, 22, from Nebraska just didn’t understand why Cupid kept handing her bum men. Apparently, it was easier to place blame on me for her shitty relationships, rather than maybe doing some hard self-reflecting. But the icing on top of the proverbial cake? To title her shitty little blurb “New Cupid For Hire’, as if I wasn’t the best as what I did. I wasn’t just the best, I was the only one who could do it. To imply there was someone out there that was better than me?
Well, that’s just blasphemy.
“Yeah, most tabloids are nowadays.” She scrunched up her face and watched as the cars ripped the paper apart. “Just a time-wasting read, really. They’re all about dramatic celebrity relationships. Especially around this time of year.”
I drew my eyes away from the garbage in the street when I sensed her less-than-happy tone. “Not a fan of all this romance in the air?”
She rolled her dark eyes and groaned. “Fuck no. I hate it. Can’t wait for February to be over already. Glad someone else feels the same way?” I furrowed my brows in confusion. She motioned to the magazine in the street, the words ‘New Cupid For Hire’ on the cover was waving around in the wind, almost like it was asking to be put out of its misery. “Not a fan of all the romance? Seems like all people can talk about is Cupid right now.”
I bit back a chuckle. Little did she know the Cupid everyone was talking about was in front of her right now.
“I love all the romance. Just can’t stand someone slandering him like that.” That drew another eye roll from her. “He’s doing his best, I’d say.”
Her inner thoughts were nearly palpable but they conflicted with the aura I was getting from her. She’s obviously disgusted at the thought of love and she was a hermit. However, this woman was overwhelmingly lonely at the same time. An odd combination really, one I’d never seen before. She drew my interest passively and positioned herself at the top of my work list.
“Well, can’t say I agree with you in the slightest so I’ll take that as my cue to leave.” I didn’t stop her as she brushed past me. Rather, I drew my bow from my back, nocking the sharpest arrow I had and taking aim at the retreating figure.
I honed in my aim on her, pulling back my bowstring before releasing it. My arrow slid right through her chest seamlessly, snagging her heart and pushing it up against the inside her ribcage. She faltered for a moment on the busy sidewalk as my own heartbeat quickened with the raging adrenaline. After a few seconds, the arrow disintegrated like it always did and the woman was on her way again but now with a newfound desire to find love.
“Let’s see what you’ve got to say about Cupid now, dreamboat.”
5 years later
Carmella’s P.O.V
“Hold still, Jay. I’m almost finished,” I chided my friend, leaning in even closer to make sure this prosthetic stuck on him. “And…done!” I spun him around in the chair, allowing him to look in the mirror.
“Fuck, Carmy, this looks so fucking gross!” He gagged.
A grin spread across my mouth as I leaned down over his shoulder, looking at my work with him through the mirror.
“Thanks, JJ. It does look pretty fucking sick, huh?”
My usual, regular looking friend was now transformed into a decaying zombie that had been decaying for far too long. One that definitely needed to be put out of its misery years ago. I went all out for this design, desperate to make the scariest costume of this season. While the haunted house I worked for was open all year round, October was our busiest season for obvious reasons.
“So sick. These infected pustules…and the maggot infested wound, you’ve truly outdone yourself this year.” He turned around in his chair. “I’m definitely making someone vomit tonight with this makeup.”
“I hope so. Oh, here,” I handed him a little bottle of adhesive from the desk. “In case it comes loose while you’re terrifying the kids. I won’t be here to do touch-ups.”
“You’re not staying? It’s opening night. How will TerrorFest go on?!” I rolled my eyes at his taunts. “And what about the gore whores?” He whispered, causing me to laugh.
The gore whores were the snobby girls that came to scare at TerrorFest but everyone knows they only do it for the aesthetic and to brag about how cool it was to be able to stomach all the gore. While gore didn’t make my stomach churn, going around bragging about it would be…weird.
“The gore whores won’t hurt you, you big baby. In fact, they might be all over your oozing pustules.”
Just then, the camper door was pulled open and my other friend, Harper, came in, decked out in her scare makeup I had done earlier in the day. I went for a drowned look for her today.
“You’ll never guess who just showed up,” She said, standing stalk still in the doorway.
Jay bit at his nails in fear. “Don’t tell me it’s the gore whores.”
Harper nodded solemnly. “They have arrived, my friend. It’s time to face them.”
Jay cursed and grabbed his props before turning back to me. “If I don’t make it out of this alive, I will blame you.”
“You’re both ridiculous.” I laughed, pushing both of them out of my camper, shutting the door and locking it behind us. “Good luck, tonight! Make ’em puke for me!”
Harper and Jay took off to their places as I started walking back to my car. The sun hadn’t completely set yet but it was dark enough that the air was starting to get cold. I pulled my light jacket around myself and continued stomping through the muddy gravel to my car, faltering slightly when I heard something whoosh past me. I looked behind me and found nothing. Brushing it off, I continued.
I always hated the drive from rural Portland back into the city. I’d rather just stay here at TerrorFest than the alternative. That being the shitty little apartment I rented out with my boyfriend at a discounted rate due to the landlord’s little crush on me. Did it make me a bad person to take advantage of the old man who, on a regular basis, tries to take advantage of me? No, I think this is justified.
And the alternative to the alternative? Staying in the spare bedroom of my fathers house. Sure, it was warm, and there weren’t any rats scratching in the walls at night, which kept my cat awake. But I’d take the rowdy cat and rat ruckus over Tiffany and Violet Ferris any day.
Tiffany was my father’s new wife and Violet was her daughter. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree in their case. Actually, I don’t think the apple fell at all, I think they both grew on the same money-grabbing whore branch from the same money-grabbing whore tree! Yes, Violet was a lot like her mother in most ways. I’d say Violet’s body count was a few shorter than her mother’s and that’s only because her mother has had a few more years in the game.
I knew if Violet and I were left alone in a room, it would only be a matter of time before one of us left in tears and I highly doubted it’d be me. I hate them both and that seeps over to my father sometimes but only for a moment before I start feeling guilty. He was a good guy, even offered to move me into his house and pay for college tuition.
I had to decline. College wasn’t in the cards for me and neither was attempted murder on his money-grabbing whore step-daughter. I can admit when I’m being bitter but in this case, it was very much justified.
As soon as I pushed the creaky door of my apartment open, a little black cat started climbing up my leg. I picked him up and shut the door behind me, making sure to lock all five of them. After the first encounter with the pervy landlord, I wasn’t taking any chances.
“How’s my little grubby man?” I smushed my cheek against his soft fur, cuddling him as close as he’d allow before his claws dug into my skin and he climbed up onto my neck. “Is he still sleeping?” I complained to the little kitty about the lack of response from my boyfriend. Usually, he was the second to greet me after I got home, first, obviously being Grubs.
“Fin, it’s been all day and you’re still-” I pushed the bedroom door open and stalled wide-eyed, unable to look away from what was going on in front of me. In my own bed, one that I paid for myself, and even put together myself. He was splayed out, naked and asleep, with a naked woman curled up next to them. He didn’t have the energy to take the used condom off after he was finished.
A feeling I’d never experienced before filled my chest. I was livid but this feeling hurt worse than anger. My chest felt constricted as a tugging feeling started in on my heart.
Grubs bumped against my cheek as if telling me to calm down but the longer I looked at them, the worse that feeling in my chest got. Gently, I removed the feline from my shoulder, locking him away in the bathroom so he wouldn’t have to see this. Seconds later, I returned to the bedroom, long knife in one hand, cup of ice water in the other.
I tossed the water on them, shocking them awake and sputtering up the water. Once they both were fully conscious, it was their turn to stare wide eyed.
“Out.” I growled, feeling myself start to shake. “If you’d like to keep your scalps, I suggest you move quickly.”
“Baby-”
“Did you know?” I pointed the knife toward the woman who was now holding the comforter to her chest. Except she didn’t answer, she just sat there in terror. “Remember what I said about scalps-?”
“I didn’t know! He said he was single-!”
“Then what the fuck are you still doing here?! Get the fuck out!” She threw the blanket off of her and quickly tried to gather her clothes. “No, leave them. The walk of shame is called the walk of shame for a reason, yes?”
“Bitch-”
“And who has the knife again? I don’t believe it’s you-!” I held it up like I would lunge for her and she jumped into action. She scurried around me and out the door.
“Carmy, let’s just talk about this.”
“That’s the last thing I want. Get up and get out. Maybe if you run fast enough, you can catch up with your whore.”
“You don’t want to kick me out,” He pleaded, getting onto his knees on the bed. “Come on, baby.”
“I’m so close, Fin. So close to stabbing this knife right into your neck. Don’t test me.” When he made a grab for me, I made one for him, too. I secured him by the ear and started walking him to the door as he said ‘ow, ow, ow,’ the entire way.
“Carmella-!” I slammed the door in this face and quickly secured all five of the locks again. A ragged sigh left my mouth as the tears formed in my eyes. I leaned my head against the door and let them fall.
“Let him back in, Carmella-” A voice whispered from behind me, breath brushing up against the nape of my neck. The blood-curdling scream that emitted from me would surely alert the neighbors. With my knife held out in a firm grasp, I turned and blinked back the tears that were clouding my vision.
There was no one there. Shaky gasps were all I could manage as I slowly scoped out my apartment.
“Hello?” I felt another breath against the back of my neck and I whipped around to find…nothing. “I like ghosts and all but you can’t just come out of nowhere like that.” My heart was still going wild in my chest, fear was still trembling down my bones.
“Ghosts?” The voice said again, this time down the hall. “Definitely not a ghost, candy. Oh, what do we have here? Look at this little guy-” I heard a faint meow as my heart dropped into my stomach.
“Grubs,” I gasped and took off to the bathroom, finding it empty, no little kitty in sight. Panic bubbled up my throat and my fingers danced along my pocket for my phone. As I tried to type in 911, whoever was speaking to me came into view. The man was lounging in my living room with a calm Grubs perched on his lap.
“Finally, you found me,” the stranger mused, placing Grubs on the floor before standing. “Remember me?”
Now, I got a good look at who was harassing me. His curly blonde hair fell into his eyes and his bright blue eyes danced around my face. While he was strikingly handsome, I could not place if I’d seen him before or not.
“If I say no, are you going to kill me?”
He chuckled and brushed some of his curls from his face. “No, no. I just thought since we’ve met before, you would’ve remembered me. Most ladies do, at least the ones I’ve decided to grace with my presence.”
“A bit egotistical, isn’t it?”
“Given who I am, no. I can’t help how I’m perceived. Which is why you interest me, hence why I’ve decided to grace you with my presence.” He gave my unsteady grip on the knife a second glance. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead already.”
“Comforting,” I deadpanned, raising the knife higher.
“If it makes you feel safe, wield your weapon.” He brushed me off and took a seat on my couch again, tapping the cushion beside him. When he noticed I wasn’t going to take a seat, he rolled his eyes and relaxed back into the couch. “We met five years ago. You ran right into me, crumpled my magazine. We had a little discussion about love and how much you hate it. Remember me now?”
Did that happen? I frowned and thought back. My memory has never been the greatest so I couldn’t tell if what he was referring to was a dream or reality.
“Vaguely. I think I remember you tossed the magazine into the street and then watched it get run over.” The blond chuckled again before resting his head in his hand, still peering over at me with a grin. He was clearly not threatened by me or my knife at all.
Could I blame him? No. I wouldn’t be scared of me either.
“Yes. That magazine was…well, the specifics don’t really matter, do they?” He brushed me off and moved on. “You were the only person I’ve run across who had such opposing views inside of you.”
“What does that even mean? How does that relate to you breaking into my apartment?”
“You hate love–hated love but inside, you are just so lonely. So, I shot you with one of my arrows.” He held up his hands as if to say ‘no big deal’.
“Obviously not. I think I would’ve remembered getting shot with an arrow, even if the memory with you was just so boring.”
He didn’t take offense like I had hoped he would and continued. “You wouldn’t have felt the arrow, candy. Haven’t you caught on yet?”
“Oh, I’m sorry! You break in, tell me we’ve met and then tell me you shot me with an arrow! You’re not being very fucking clear, asshole!”
“Come on, you can piece it together. The arrows, the love, the time of year when we met. It was a week until Valentine’s Day.”
The bright pink lettering from the magazine cover flashed through my mind. ‘New Cupid For Hire’. Surely, this loon wasn’t implying what I think he was.
“Are you trying to get me to believe that you are Cupid?” He groaned in aggravation, throwing his head back.
“Eros, actually. Don’t call me Cupid, it’s so…childish.”
My hand with the knife relaxed down to my side. “Hate to break it to you, Eros, but the whole world thinks you are a kid. That’s like Cupid’s whole thing.”
“Gods, one baby portrait falls into the wrong hands one time and the whole world thinks I’m forever a baby!” He groaned again. “Babies do grow up, you know!”
“Look, I really, really don’t want to deal with a psycho tonight. Especially not tonight-”
His head snapped up, as if what I said reminded him of something.
“Right. The breakup. As I said before, call him back.”
“What?!” I sputtered. “No! Absolutely not! He cheated on me–not that I should be telling you that-”
He nodded his head, leaning forward on the couch, waiting for me to finish.
“I know he cheated. That’s why I’m here. When I shot you with that arrow and you fell in love with him, you basically signed a contract for him that states if he ever breaks your heart, I get his heart. So, call him back.”
With every word he spoke, my eyes got wide again. I raised the knife once more and started backing, thinking this was the point in which he was going to start going crazy.
“I’m not calling him back.”
“Fine, I’ll do it myself,” He grumbled as he stood to his feet and walked to my door. I kept my eyes on him the entire time, never letting my knife drop. He turned to me as he pulled the door open, revealing a frozen, naked Fin, standing at my door.
“If you knew he was there, why’d you want me to–what the fuck,” I whispered as the blonde tossed the man inside my apartment. He landed on the floor with a thud, still frozen in that same spot. “What did you do to him?”
“Time stopped for everyone in this apartment building except for me and you.” He answered as if that were obvious before picking up my ex and placing him down on the couch. “Uh, you do gory Halloween makeup for a living, right?”
“How do you know that?” I asked, moving to create distance between us. His eyes flicked to mine. “Yes, I do. Why does that matter?”
“Just want to make sure you’re not gonna vomit. I can not handle vomit-” the blonde snapped his fingers, seemingly bringing Fin out of his frozen state. “Hey, Casanova. So long story short, you kinda broke a vow between Carmella and me. Not good,” He clicked his tongue.
“What are you doing?” I asked. More panic started to fester up my throat as a bad feeling washed over the entire room.
“Relax, Carmella,” he waved me off, returning his attention to Fin, who was still sitting there, fear-stricken. “Unfortunately, there is a fee for breaking the vow.”
I watched in horror as the blond man’s hand slid into Fin’s chest with ease. My ex choked, blood spilling out of his mouth and from the gaping hole around the hand in his chest. Fin’s eyes flipped to mine and I felt the world start to spin around me. His heart was ripped from his chest in an instant, then presented to me in the blond man’s palm, still beating to keep the body alive.
“Hey, don’t get queasy on me now, candy.” He chided and placed the pumping heart to his mouth. He held it between his teeth as he fiddled with something in his back pocket, his other hand pressing into Fin’s shoulder to keep him upright on my couch. Seconds later, he pulled out a phone. He dialed the number and placed the phone between his shoulder and ear. “If you’re gonna vomit, go over there,” He said to me.
“Agóri, bring me a marked heart immediately."
