Anjelica Moon

The Wrong Bet

I don’t usually mess around with these college boys—they’re all still so immature, even after they've transitioned from teenage boys to young adults. Honestly, I’d argue they were more mature back in high school. Back then, they had their mothers’ nagging hovering over them, keeping them in check. But in college, they're free to do whatever they want, whenever they want. And that's why I steer clear of these imbeciles.

But here I was, with Dimples. DIMPLES. I didn’t even know his name, but he was ridiculously cute. He could get it, no question. In fact, he was about to get it. He was sprawled out on his couch, beer bottle in hand. I took a swig of my wine and set the empty glass down, my eyes locked on him, like a lioness zeroing in on her prey. Slowly, I crawled toward him. He smirked, setting his beer on the coffee table beside him.

Our lips met, and the scent of his cologne sent me spinning. The kiss was intoxicating, a perfect blend of his liquor and mine. This was going to be good.

Our kiss deepened, his large hands exploring my smaller frame as I worked to unbutton his red and blue checkered shirt. He let out a low growl, but just as things started to heat up, my phone chimed. I jumped up and snatched it off the table. It was Millie, one of my closest friends. I answered.

The Beast That Lives Within

I stood before the mirror in the hallway, just by the door, reddening my naturally plum-pink lips.

I'm going on a date tonight. Honestly, it's a weekend ritual. Dates are my lifestyle now. I have no friends, no family—just a white cat who loves me unconditionally. Well, I have one friend, but that’s a story for another time.

I ran my fingers through my blonde hair and took in my red mini-dress. It hugged my curves perfectly, even showing off my large breasts—what gets the men chasing after me. Grabbing my purse, I stepped out of my small one-bedroom apartment.

Money’s tight. I juggle two jobs just to afford the basics. My life’s a mess, but it works for me. Well, almost. I put the car keys in the lock and opened the door. My car’s older than I am, but it gets me where I need to go, even if it requires a push most days. Today, though, it started up without a fight.

I drove to the restaurant and walked inside. Joe Mason, my date, stood up when he saw me, offering an awkward grin. I smiled warmly, walked over, and gave him a hug. He sat, and so did I. On the table, a bouquet waited for me.

“Thank you, Joe,” I said with a grin. “You didn’t have to.”

Joe was tall, with brown hair, blue eyes, and a nice beard. He was handsome, but his looks weren’t why I agreed to this date. No, Joe had served ten years for raping a six-year-old, making him perfect for me.

“I haven’t been on a date for a while,” he shared.

"Why's that?" I asked, my head tilted, feigning curiosity, waiting to hear him lie or confess.

He glanced around, then met my eyes with a small smile. “I’ve just been too busy.”

Right. Too busy. You’re such a coward.

The waiter arrived, and I barely paid attention to Joe’s rambling. I ordered just tea and a salad, knowing I needed to leave the restaurant hungry for more—him.

The conversation was mostly about Joe. He didn’t give me a chance to speak, but it was fine. I wanted him. Badly. The way he talked about himself made me thirst for him even more.

Eventually, he stopped and chuckled. “Oh, where are my manners? Tell me about yourself. How long have you been single?”

I hated that question with every fiber of my being. My solitude wasn’t by choice. The time I’ve spent alone scares people. But it’s not like I can have a relationship anymore. My life’s too complicated. I’m destined to die alone.

I never meant to leave my last boyfriend, Samuel. I had to go, or else I would’ve died. I left without a word, and now, all I have is the memory of him and the kids. I saw them once—so happy, with another woman. It’s all my fault.

“How long?” Joe repeated.

“Seven years,” I said, my smile stiff.

“Seven years?” His eyes widened. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Life keeps me busy.” I chuckled, though the words were hollow. “Why else would I date online?”

He nodded. “So… seven years? What happened? Why’d you break up?”

“I cheated,” I lied, “and he found out.”

The mention of Samuel made my chest tighten. I couldn’t talk about it, couldn’t bear it. I turned the conversation back to Joe and asked, “You wanna get out of here? Somewhere more private?”

I didn’t care about him. Not really. I was ready to devour him.

He bit his lip and waved the waiter over. We paid, then walked around the block, my arm around his waist. People might’ve thought we were a happy couple, but I didn’t see him as a person, not really.

We found an alley, dark and quiet. I led him there, laughing as I grabbed his hand. No hesitation.

I pushed him against the wall. We kissed. He touched my large behind, getting comfortable. I pulled back, looking him in the eye. He smirked, probably wondering what came next. I knew what was next. My eyes turned yellow, my teeth elongated, and his expression shifted from desire to terror.

I gripped him tight. He tried to push me away, but I was stronger. My teeth sank into his neck, and I drank. His blood poured out, warm and rich. I took my time, savoring each bite. By the third, he was dead.

I dropped his body on the ground and ate until I couldn’t anymore. Covered in his blood, I wiped my hands and mouth, knowing it wouldn’t help much. I got in my car and drove home, feeling disgusted, but also satisfied.

I slammed the apartment door behind me. “I hate my life, Jinx!” I yelled, finding my cat curled up somewhere.

I ran to the bathroom to wash off, gagging. Seven years of this. I took a warm bath, letting Amy Winehouse’s voice calm me. Jinx curled up beside me, offering some comfort. I drank wine, closed my eyes, and fell asleep. Tomorrow, Joe would make the news. But for a different reason this time