Walk Me Home: Dating a Monster Girl

“̵̲͖̠̍J̷̞͖̓͒O̸̘͚͇͊̓̐H̸̩͐͠͝Ń̷̛̳ ̷̟͓̗̎̋̒C̶̙̽͜R̸͈̟̔̑̀O̶̲̙͂͌Ẃ̴̢̜͋ ̴͕̱̈́͗... ̷̺̄͐͂Ī̵̧̬̃͜ ̶̗̍̓͊L̷̫̣̝̒̑͊O̸̟͙̔͝V̶̧̠̈́̽͛Ḛ̴͆̽͘ ̵͙̫͉̃͑Y̵̜̰̲͑̔O̸͙̦̕͝U̶͔͍̾͝.̸̤̙́̔̍”̵͙͘

Every window in the city block shattered under the sound of her voice. Amy’s aerosol had turned the world red. It all trembled as though near to a furnace: an optical illusion, but no less unnerving. The atmosphere bore the metallic taste of blood. It was thick, borderline liquid. Plasma anomalies squirmed and curdled in the air. The sound they made … like thunder and laughter melded together in an eldritch melody that should never exist.

She floated there like an apparition, drinking in John Crow’s reaction.

So far, his response was less than stellar. He knew it. She knew it. Here he was, the one with the hostage, yet he did little more than stare dumbly. John Crow realised he’d taken a small step back. He kicked himself for it.

This was NOT what he expected. Not even in the ballpark.

His thoughts raced, crashed and burned. What in the-? How was he supposed to-? She LOVED him?

“‘Cat meets mouse’, ‘foodie meets pizza’: that kind of love,” Norman helpfully explained.

John Crow frowned at the young man dangling in his grip. How irritating.

“Beg,” Norman asserted.

John Crow almost rolled his eyes. He took a quick breath and eased it out, steadying his thoughts. He lowered Norman to the ground, but never let go of his hair. A calm smile graced his face as he met Amy’s crazed gaze.

“.̵̡͔̭͎̥̫͌̓̀̅̑̂͝Quite the entrance, Amy, but you’re laying it on a little thick!.̸̢̣̪̱͎͋͘” John Crow critiqued, raising his voice above the localised storm. “.̴̺͈͙̜̮̺̋́̈́̊You’re not … whatever this is supposed to be. You’re just a little girl, terrified of losing her boyfriend. You know what? Come inside. Let’s talk. We both know that heroes don’t-..̶̫͚͔͎̯͇́̈̃͊”

“̶̲̮̜̃͐͝H̴̯̽̌̂E̵͇̣̽̐̚R̴͚͐O̸͉͍̘̹͛̈́̌̕?̸̤͙̒̍̌ ̴̧͍̬̣̕ ̷̲͙̩͗͜H̵̦̤̜̉e̴͎̿͑ě̷̦̏́̎ ̷͈̦̅́̈́h̴̦̼̎́͂é̴̲̼̻̹̾e̵̹̊̅͗͜ ̴̧̼̺͉̽̓H̶̲̟̦̀͝Ä̴̟ ̵͚̮̈́̊͝H̷̺̰͗͌Ả̴̝͇̂̉͠ ̸̮̻̦̉̆H̷̯̜̳̄͛́͘A̵̛̪̱͊̿̚ ̶̲͇̮̆͒Ḧ̴̨̰̼̈̌͊A̴̧͈̅͑ͅ!̸̥̤̼̑̈́͋̕”̷̦̰̔

Amy’s rancorous laugh shook his soul and the building. Her lips still weren’t moving, but she spoke anyway. Malevolent amusement gleamed in her eyes. He really wished she’d just shut up. As much as he knew her little act was not to be feared, his fight or flight instincts hadn’t figured that out yet. John Crow’s bioluminescent tattoos darkened: a reaction he couldn’t fully control. It was meant to hide him from victims … and threats.

Amy floated in slow, contemplative circles as she spoke, but her head rotated like an owl’s so that her ghastly gaze and gruesome grin always faced him.

“̷̨̦͉̼̣̌̊̋̕̚H̴̟͎̔̀̚͠É̷̲̫̩͍̄̒͊͝R̵̹̒R̶̤̮͋͛͘R̶̛̮̄̑͝O̶͕̩̜̦̻̚ ̵̱͕̗̠̤͋̎.̶̰͔̩͋͑͋̍.̴̖̚.̵̨̘͕͉͈͆̽”̷̫̏̒͗ ̸̙̭̮̲̈́̋̒̾

she crooned deeply.

“̷̧̈́D̵̳̈́OE̴̡̔S̷͕̅ ̸̖́TḢ̷̭A̶̹͋T̵̓͜ ̸̧̈́C̷̱̕Ṷ̶͋T̶͉̉E̴̡̔ ̵͚̀L̶̛̠ITT̶̛̤L̷̿͜E W̸͎̎O̷̫͌R̵̹͝D̴̝͋ ̶̥̂MAK̵̡̍E̵̗͘ ̴̘̍Y̴̲͝Ö̸͙́U̶̝̒ ̸̭͂F̵̺͌EE̷͇̎L̷̿͜ ̴̬̔B̸̮́È̶̦T̶̼̈T̵͈̚E̵̟̿Ṛ̷͝?̴͈͂"

"I̵̧͌T̷̹̏'Ś̴͇ ̵͖͝F̶͕̅Ü̴͈N̵͕͒N̴̡̂Y̶͈̋ ̶̡͊ ̸̨̊…̶͎̕"

"O̷̱̍N̵̙̓Ḙ̷̎ ̴̨̀M̶̬̂A̴̲̓Ň̴̻'̴̹̌S̴͙̒ C̶̫̋Ợ̴M̸͓̈F̵̲̊Õ̷͎R̶̗̀T̶̛̤ ̸̱̏Ì̷͍S̷̰̿ AN̴̳͐O̷͖̐T̵̺̅H̴̦̒Ē̸̢R̷̘͝ ̸̲͒M̴̹͑A̸̩͛N̶̗̈'̴̲́S̷̭̿ ̴̘̚N̷̝͝I̶̯͋G̵͇͗Ḥ̸͒T̶̋͜M̵̮̍Ã̵̘RE̶̟̅.̷̝͝"

"F̴̢̌Ǫ̵͒R̴̬̄ O̸̞͝R̶̼͊D̵̜͆I̶̘̓Ń̵̳Ȁ̷͍R̴̗̓Y̷̦͗ F̶̭̈́Ō̶̺LK̵̤̚,̴̻̚ ̵̠͌T̷̗̈́H̷̳̆E̴͙̽ ̴̪̔S̶̮̈́U̷͎̓N̵̯̕ ̵͈͘Í̴̝S̸̛̭ ̶̠̐A̴͕̍ ̷̨̓C̸̨̈́O̸̡͠M̶͖̄F̴̗̎O̶̲͆R̸͎̐T̴̫͗.̴̣͝"

"F̵̳̎Ǒ̸̮R̵̢̀ N̴̪͝Ÿ̴̫C̴͖̋T̷̜͝A̴̘̎L̶̛̠S̷͉̄, ̷̗͂Ḭ̷̿T̵̜͆'̵̪̾S̷̢̕ ̵̧̄A̶̩͑ ̵̩̉Ṉ̴͛I̴͓͗G̴͚̃Ḥ̷͗T̴̪̒M̶̺̋Â̵͕R̵͍͌E̷̝͗,̴̏͜"

"B̸͍̈Ű̷̪T̷̛͓ T̶̖̂O̴̙͊N̶̬̅I̴̗̿G̷̦̓H̶̜͑T̸̥̾ ̷͇̀...?”̴̯͘

A sharply tapered tongue slithered between her teeth as she licked her lips. Chuckles bubbled up from the blackest pits of her heart.

"̵̹͊I̶̳̐̊͋́'̶̡̋̉̀LL̷̆̅ͅ ̶̠̥̬̻͊̈́̀̐B̶̺̎͋E̸̪̓͜ ̴͙̼̱̹̎Ÿ̶͉͇͚͒̋Ö̷̻̞́̊́̔Ủ̵͚̋Ŕ̵͕̬͎̭̊͘͝ ̸̢̈̅̈́̃S̵͎̖̍̈Ü̴̡̨͍̬̒Ņ̷̯̓͘."̶̛̯̼̭̈́̒̒

Chills ran down John Crow’s spine. It almost sounded romantic, in the sickest way possible.

John Crow clicked his tongue and held Norman to his shoulder like a buddy. More of body shield, obviously. Nonetheless, Norman repressed a smile. With the ever-present din of Amy’s wind and thunder, he wasn’t sure if his voice would carry far enough, but now? It was a done deal.

“.̵̫̄̑̇͒Norman, I don’t believe Amy is taking your well-being very seriously!.̶̻͙̑͑̀̂̃” John Crow laughed, squeezing Norman just hard enough to hear the joints pop. “.̴̢̨̹̥̰̓̽̇̊̽̈́̽̋͛͒͜͝͠Why don’t you talk some sense into your girl?.̶̻͙̑͑̀̂̃”

“AC03,” Norman uttered.

*fwee ...*

*FFMM!*

John Crow screamed as the nightsight blasted light into his face. It wasn’t nearly as big as the smitelight’s bursts, but at point blank? In the eyes?

It was enough.

His knee-jerk reaction was to fling Norman away like a stinging bug. Amy’s shadow avatars caught him, billowing into industrial-strength foam that cushioned his collision with a wall. However, the danger was in the throw itself. Whiplash. His body was not built to accelerate dozens of miles in an instant. The avatars gently set him on the ground, where he lay limp.

John Crow yanked off the nightsight, crushing it in panic. For the moment, he was blind. However, the Dread A.M.E.’s sensory aerosol still gave him updates on his surroundings.

One second, Amy’s avatar wasn’t right in front of him. Then, it was.

She flicked him.

John Crow came crashing out the other side of the building. He tumbled through the open air. Her avatar raced after him. It caught up in an instant. Red lightning outlined their silhouettes. His aerosol clung to him like a shadow, but it was only a big fish in her sea of red.

He righted himself to face her. Their tentacled hair flared wide like the open jaws of beasts. John Crow’s dreadlocks moved like spears. Her hair met them tip to tip. Red wrestled black. It looked like a deadlock.

John Crow knew better.

Already, his aerosol condensed around him. He pushed away from her. It didn’t work. Her tendrils were firmly intertwined with his. Maybe that didn’t matter.

His exoskeleton was ready.

The black bulk of churning, inky aerosol clung to his physique as though it were part of him. Dwarfing Amy’s avatar, its predatory sneer matching her own and then some. Maybe he couldn’t beat her biomass as a whole, but her puny avatar was a different story.

The world blurred.

Something shattered against John Crow’s back. Rubble and innards splattered around him. The shock left him dazed. He watched as a peeping building howled its death cry before collapsing. A hole went straight through it.

Had she just shoved him through one of his buildings?

Amy rapped his chest with her knuckles.

“̶͚̗̅͛͘S̵̘̐̈́̚TU̶̟̪̫̇R̵̡̜͉͐͘D̸͍͕͉̥͂̇Ý̶̼̼͓ ̶̧͕͙̄͗̕S̴̼̝̦̞̊̿́T̷͉̺̆̒̕U̷͍̹̟̹͐F̷͙͕͔̊͛͗F̴̱͌̑̏͘.̶͔͇̾̅̓"

"I ̸̲͇͚͒͝L̵̫̪̬̳̍Ǫ̷̧̲̫̂͛̅V̴̛̞̍̾͝Ę̸͚̤̍̄̈́ ̴͙̭̂͛͌͘À̸̻̥̭͑ ̴̟̪̞̉͌͘T̴̗̠̚͜ͅŐ̶͉̜̬̍Y̴̢͙̓̋͝ ̴̪̂̀T̷͔͂͆͝H̴̭̦͓̯̓͋A̷͉̪̬̲̒͊̍͘T̶̖̩̽͌̽̆ ̴͈͎̋͜Ĉ̷͍͖͒A̸̙̲̋͘N̵̙̙͚̝͒͛̑ ̶̱̫͍́̏̿͠Ṯ̷̢̪̽́Á̶̧̲̲̳̔K̷̠̣̗̒̓̓ͅĒ̷̛̗̣ ̸̰̽Ạ̶̛͖̔̿-"̸̦̜͖̈́͑̐

His tendrils yanked her close. With a fist the size of a basketball, he launched a blow that could split a bus.

It hit only air.

Aerosol armour blasted off of John Crow’s fist, leaving it bare. What … what just happened? He didn’t have time to ponder it, striking again to keep her off-balanced.

This time, he saw her blur.

Again, his fist’s covering was obliterated. Explosive impacts tore armour from his shoulder, ribcage and stomach.

Then she was in front of him again, beaming patiently as his mind struggled to catch up.

He realised she’d been punching him, so fast that that he could barely track the movements. Either his eyes were adjusting to her speed, or she was slowing down, just so he could see that she’d moved. With that kind of speed, she could finish him in no time. That left one likely possibility.

She was playing with him.

Amy sensed his realisation. Her cackles filled the air, painful to the ear.

A shadow of terror set in as he tried to wiggle out of her grip.

"Ạ̴̺̓W̸̨͌̃̚WW̴̫̣̱̔͗̋̏,̷͈̭̻̏̂̉͊"̷͕̈́͐̈́

̸̧̓̈̊̌"̵̦͖͙̆̌͌D̵̳̤̅Õ̷̖̝̘̩͝N̶̟͋̇̀͑'̸̤͙͛͌̃̓T̷͖̺̻̹̋̚ ̵͖͍̆̇Q̴͔̭͑̌͠U̵̝̍͂͐̎AIL̸͍̤͚͕̎̓̀́ ̷̹̍́͗Ǫ̵͚̩̏̓Ṋ̴͉̔ MĒ̶̖͂̄ ̵͙͇͉̀̑YḘ̵̠̈̾͒̔T̷̤͓̻͗̒͠͝, B̷̢̹̩̙̒́̒̂AB̸̝̠̀͆Y̸̯̭̟̩̅̑͂͑,̶̫͓̠͝"̷̛̠̦̊̇͂

Amy rumbled, twirling him through the air like a dancing doll.

“̵̨̫͚̭̈̇̌̓̐ͅỌ̵̜̫͖̣͑U̵͇͈̅̑̃̄͐Ŗ̷̼̓̑ Ṅ̸̠̏̂IG̸̡̳̯̅̍͜H̸̹̱̰̬͗͋͐T̵̢̺̻̉'Ṡ̶̡̠̄͘ S̸̹̍͘T̷͖͔͕͒I̶̮̬̾̐L̴̨̞̼̅̆̿L̴͒̿͑͝ͅ ̵̱̍͆̌̄͘Y̸͖̍͊̈́O̵̘͑͒̽͂Ù̷͖̘̈N̶̲͓͍̩̊̾G̵̻̪̝̪̺͒̒̓͘͝.̷̹͔̺̊”̷̖͔͕̙̊͆̕ ̷̧͇̖̂̑̀̋̓

Something pierced her biomass.

Aerokinesis barely slowed it down. Too little, too late. It barreled into Amy at hypersonic speed. Her hair’s grip was wrenched away from John Crow, but her claws had caught it in the nick of time. The momentum was tremendous. It shoved her avatar all the way to the opposite side of her biomass. Finally, she slowed it to a stop.

Amy examined the chunk of metal that had hit her. It wasn’t big, merely the size of a curled up human. She bounced it in her claws, testing the weight. It was heavier than it should be, like a car. Wait, was it a car? She peeled off the smooth, rubbery outer layer, presumably there for aerodynamics. Yes. It was a car. Something had compressed it into a dense projectile …

… and it wasn’t alone.