This Terrifying Reason Is How I Learned To Stay The Hell Away From OKCupid

“This was delicious. Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome.”

“I wish there was some way I could repay you…” she said as I felt her toe trace a line up past my knee, inching closer and closer to what one might call “the danger zone” or more specifically “where my penis is.”

My heart rate increased as most of the blood from my head began to redirect itself elsewhere, leaving me feeling slightly lightheaded. I cleared my throat and went to take a sip of wine. I finished the glass and that’s when I discovered the partially dissolved remains of a pill capsule resting at the bottom of my glass.

I must have looked pretty dumbfounded because Kat immediately asked, “Are you okay?”

I looked up and tried to respond but it was like everything was suddenly moving in slow-motion. From where I was sitting, I could see into the hallway and had a clear view of the closet door opening as Alabama suddenly sprinted out and cracked a metal pipe across the back of Kat’s head while screaming, “HOW COULD YOU?!”

Kat’s limp body tumbled out of the chair and I tried to jump up from my seat, but found that I had lost all control of my limbs. I tried to shout “Holy shit!” but all I could manage to force out of my mouth was a single slurred syllable that sounded like “Hullash…

She had dosed me with some sort of powerful paralytic. My head was suddenly extremely heavy and I started to do a face-plant straight into my pasta bowl. Alabama caught me by my hair and lifted my head up so that she could look me in the eye as she said, “And now you’re just gonna pass out, huh? Typical.”

She let go of my hair and I immediately punched the table with my face. Alabama walked around to my side of the table and leaned me back in my seat as she began to drag the chair, with me in it, into the hallway. Once we reached my bedroom, she dumped me onto the bed and all I could do was lay there as I listened to her fumble around behind me.

It’s funny how hindsight can make your tiniest lapses in judgment seem like such blindingly stupid mistakes. Mistakes you, the reader, would have probably never made. Of course, it’s also a lot easier to see what’s coming when you’re reading about it after the fact. All I could think in that moment was:

Damn it, Past Joel! How could you not know this was coming?

The truth, which I had been hiding from myself, was I hadn’t really felt right ever since my first encounter with Alabama. The sense that I was being watched had been almost constant and even after washing my sheets three times, I was still finding pink hairs in my bed. And that right there should have been enough of a clue to stop me from luring any future dates into the snare of my psychotic stalker but, unfortunately, I was an idiot.

Alabama slid a hand beneath my waist and undid my belt, interrupting my internal scolding and bringing me back to the horrifying present as she began to tug at my jeans. She yanked them and my underwear down to my knees in one quick motion and then paused to consider something. A moment later, I heard Alabama remove the narrow full-length mirror hanging from my bedroom door.

She carried the mirror around to the side of the bed that I was facing and positioned it so that I could see my own paralyzed reflection. I looked pathetic: lying there on my stomach, completely motionless, my eyes wide with terror and my bare ass pointed up at an angle. If I could’ve, I would’ve started to cry.

Alabama moved out of my line of sight and I watched as her reflection made its way back around to my exposed rear end. She began to strip naked as she said, “You think I like having to crack all these fat sluts’ heads open?! That Candice girl was one thing… I had to get rid of her so that we could be together… But that poor girl bleeding out on your living room floor; what did she do? Nothing except trust YOU. And I know you did it just to make me jealous, too. You think I’m that STUPID?! You wanna see me jealous? WELL, THIS IS ME JEALOUS!”

With that Alabama jabbed a small black object into my side, right above my left kidney, and a surge of blinding white-hot pain flooded through me as my body began to reflexively convulse.

I was still twitching after Alabama finally pulled the taser away and my vision cleared just in time to see her duck down out of sight of the mirror. I listened to her retrieve something from beneath my bed and a moment later she was pulling the strap-on up around her waist.

“Do you really think any of this was an accident?” Alabama set the taser down and removed a small bottle of lubricant from my bedside table. Using the lube, she began to grease up her strap-on as she locked eyes with me through the mirror and continued, “My profile name, the fact that we liked the same movies and music… That was all me trying to be a girl that you could love. You can say goodbye to all of that right now because it’s time for no more Mrs. Gives-A-Shit.”

Alabama reached down to grip the strap-on by its base as she aimed the rounded tip toward my asshole. There was a blur of motion just above her and then her eyes suddenly rolled up into her head as Alabama’s limp body collapsed onto me, revealing Kat’s reflection standing there behind her.


About the author
When Joel isn't writing creepy-ass short stories, he can be found scripting and acting in subversive comedy sketches on YouTube. You can follow Joel on Twitter or support him on Patreon, if you're into that. Follow Joel on Twitter or read more articles from Joel on Thought Catalog.

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