Page 189 of Evil Hearts

“I would take my beloved to a place of great significance. There is no use in wasting time with trivial localities.”

Unholy Transylvania.

I shift in my seat, suddenly hot and wet between my plush thighs. That voice makes my blood heat and then travel south. My nipples tighten underneath my cropped sweater, but I can’t look down at them or I’ll just draw more attention to my predicament. I swallow thickly and shift again to hopefully distract the audience with my shiny heart boots. My cheeks flush a deeper pink than my Barbie-pink lipstick.

“If you could equate yourself to an experience, what would it be?”

The question is so stupid I nearly facepalm, but I guess the horniness has gone right to my airhead and made all logic take off like a balloon.

“An experience? Well, my experience you haven’t had yet, doll.” That southern voice makes my insides melt into a warm goo. “But if I had to match it up with something human, it would be a rollercoaster, up and down at just the right speeds.”

“A debate, there is always a good back-and-forth. I will listen and value what you say,” that unholy Transylvanian accent says.

The last man clears his throat. “Would a triathlon be too much? I don’t suppose so. I’m a lot to deal with, if you can’t tell. I think a lot.” He pauses, and I think the microphone is being taken from him just as he speaks again. “But I promise to keep things interesting. If you stick with me, I will be well worth it.”

“What fantastic answers from each of our suitors. We are going to take a quick commercial break and then come back for our human contestant’s final question and her selection. Stay tuned toDates of the Damned, back in the stopping of your heart.” Vlad’s overdramatic sign off seems to allow the collective breath of the studio audience to be let out.

They begin to whisper and point as I try not to puke onto the toes of my boots. God knows I would probably get some splash back, ruining everything further.

“What the hell was I thinking?” I grumble, putting my face into my hands. I smile into my palms at the sheer ridiculousness of the question. “What the hell kind of experience would I even equate myself too....and when the hell did I start using words like equate?” I mumble to myself, trying to make the shame crawl into the same deep, dark pit inside myself where I store all my self-doubt.

“Zenith,” the fishlike intern says my name and nearly startles me out of my seat.

“Yeah?!” I ask, half-yelping.

“You’re doing well. I believe that Vlad will be pleased. This episode is our first and it very well may be our best.” The words aren’t overly friendly or happy, simply assessing. “Do you have any idea what you’ll ask last?”

“No. I had no idea what I would be asking first or second, let alone third.” I whisper-yell.

“Since you are so incredibly human, ask if they would be willing to share you,” the intern says like it’s the most natural thing in the entire world.

Share me. Sure thing, big scary monster people, share me, for I am a prize.

I scoff, cheeks burning. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s not uncommon with monsters...supernaturals, really,” they murmur, skin once again beginning to weep that not sweat substance from their short time under the more intense lights.

“Really? You just like...share romantic partners?”

“Or sexual partners. It’s not uncommon for a child to have multiple parents or for marriages to be a union of at least four individuals. We have long lives; we have to keep things interesting.” They shrug, and I pull back a bit, a pout on my lips.

“I’m not good at sharing.” The words sound petulant, more petulant than I’ve ever been, and that is really saying something when I got two ponies for my sixth birthday after asking for a Barbie horse.

The intern shrugs, glancing over their shoulder, eyes wider and glassier, as Vladimir barks orders at some other monsters. “They might be ok with that, just ask,” they say before taking a big step back. “Might save you the trouble of breaking the hearts of people who really shouldn’t be messed with.”

I scoff. I’m more than used to pissing off people I shouldn’t. In fact, I’d say it’s my hidden talent.

Commercial Break

Octavius

The hope overflowingin my unbeating heart threatens to split me in two.

Her soul is so bright.

I can’t stop looking at the wall between us and her, my attention drawn like a mothman to his soulmate.

I glare at said mothman who is between myself and the wall. I don’t dislike him, as I don’t tend to dislike anyone without a proper introduction. I dislike his position between me and that wall and that wall between her and I.

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