"In closing, human nature is of course, by its very design, one that has developed to ensure its continued existence at any cost,"

The professor continued speaking in his lecture, his crisply worn button down shirt and red business tie straight and neat, professional as always. His voice carried throughout the auditorium, there were a few students in the back, up the rows of wooden seating and he made a point of trying to enunciate so that they could absorb the information he was providing. The room was shaped in a standard, “U,” format, giving the entire class a clear and unobstructed look at the instructor who now spoke with enthusiasm on their psychology lesson for the day.

Anthony tried to sit up straight for the fifth time in the lecture, he was having trouble focusing. The topic, while interesting, wasn't holding his attention well at all so close to the end of class and he allowed his thoughts to wander away from his education. As he glanced up and away from the college instructor, his eyes scanning around the room for anything of interest, but inevitably found an attractive girl he'd noticed for a few weeks now as he came every Wednesday and Friday to the class.

Anthony was sitting in the left flank of the curved U in the amphitheater style seating arrangement, the girl he had an eye for sat about fifteen meters away in the center most portion of the class. She was alone for the most part, no one was seated anywhere near her and she appeared to be writing in one of her notebooks, though it was clear what she scribbled down wasn't related to the lecture, she never actually stopped to look up and listen. Anthony thought back to earlier in the month when he had exchanged a small conversation with her after he hadn't caught the details of an assignment. As he gazed over at her now, and remembering the light-hearted encounter that had taken place between them, he reflected on how attractive she was.

As Anthony rolled his pen in between his fingers, he'd forgotten he had began to stare over and away towards her, then seemingly reading his thoughts, or perhaps just because she could feel someone was watching her, the young female brunette glanced up from her notebook and her eyes shot over instantly to meet Anthony's. Her iris' were brown and perfectly sized, matching the same dark shade of her long, slightly curled hair, and at that instant were fixated on him in what could almost be considered a threatening leer. She wore what seemed to be a decorative, yet simple white t-shirt, the arms of which were long sleeved and stitched with black trim and designs of shapes reminiscent of diamonds or jewels. Though concealed well, it was abundantly apparent to Anthony, his base male desires inevitably taking a reflexive glance towards her chest, that she was curved pleasantly in all the typically appealing parts of her figure.

Her eyes though were still locked in his direction, and as they narrowed to display open displeasure, Anthony looked away hurriedly. It was obvious to the pair of them both that he had been staring, and the fact that he'd been caught doing something that evidently displeased her made him involuntarily swallow hard in discomfort as he quietly cursed himself. Anthony looked down and stared at his own notebook paper for a moment, trying to gather and control his thoughts as they promised to haunt him without remorse.

The girl who'd caught him staring, Mira, kept looking at him despite his clearly fearful aversion. He was about her age, mid twenties, and he was at least somewhat attractive, short hair the same shade of color as her own, and a slender but noble face. The brown haired woman had noticed him as well over the previous few weeks they'd spent in psychology together, though she knew her attention wasn't eyeing him for the same reason she had just caught him looking over at her.

Mira could tell he had a, "thing," for her, boys were always so easy to see right through when it came to their little hearts and desires. She pondered this for a moment as she examined him, her thoughts began to swirl, starting out as just teasing possibilities of entertainment, like the waves and wind of a cycling ocean storm before it developed into a full blown hurricane. As she thought and reflected to herself what she craved most of all from him, she decided to plan how she might go about getting it. The young man seemed like a fairly decent choice, nothing about him screamed he would be a problem for her to handle should she give him a try. For like the hurricane, her darkest, most private desires involved one thing and one thing only; absolute destruction.

"So, last thing before everyone heads out for the evening!" The professor said in a louder voice, pulling Mira's attention away in an instant from her silent scheming.

"This weeks assignment will require a partner, you'll need to set about 30 minutes aside to meet up with one another and answer this list of questions on the board."

As he nearly finished speaking, the instructor pulled one side of his dry erase surface away and revealed a series of about five psychological queries, clearly designed to not just test everyone on their knowledge, but illuminate the students to the finer machinations of the human mind. As Mira read them, she couldn't help but feel a delicious wash of pleasure roll over her at the thought of using this conveniently assigned project to enhance her plans. A smile that to anyone else might have been attractive, fractionally raised the right side of her mouth in a smirk, if anyone else had known however why she smiled, they'd have been horrified.

"So pair up ladies and gents, and I'll see you all next week to discuss your answers, make them interesting! And honest! I promise it'll be much more fun that way!"

The professor turned away and headed back towards his desk at the corner of the room to gather his things, all the students in the auditorium were standing and collecting their possessions as well, most were in pairs or in groups already, discussing with each other who had found a partner and who hadn't. Anthony placed his notebook in a single zipper, black backpack as he stood, looking up and around he tried to find an available partner himself.

To the young man's alarm, Mira had already packed up and was making her way straight over to him, she had over her right shoulder the strap of a book bag of some kind, and he could see now that she wore plain blue jeans and regular blue tennis'.

"M-Mira," stammered Anthony as she approached to within speaking distance, he was nervous beyond comprehension, was she about to publicly make a scene due to his ogling? Would she scream or shout at him, call him a creep or any number of other insults that might scar him for life? As Anthony's heart began to rush and his mind panic, he tried to continue as best as he could. He pleaded wordlessly with her to remain calm and allow him to make his excuses for the offense, this situation easily becoming the most uncomfortable instant of inappropriate behavior he'd ever been a part of.

"H-Hey, if this is about earlier I-"

"Its not," she said flatly, arriving a few arms reaches away from him and resting her weight to one side of her body on her left leg. A bit of her long, flowing brown hair trailed down and before her face, accentuating the menacing look in her eyes which hadn't seemed to soften in the slightest.

Anthony shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. He visibly tried to regain control of his breath as she continued.

"I don't have a partner, and by the looks of it neither do you. If you help me do well with this question thing, we can call it even," she pauses for a brief second, tactfully using her posture, feminine charm, and the situation to curve her prey's answer and steer him towards the direction of her web.

"Unless of course, you don't want to be my partner?"

"Ah no, no, that's fine!" Anthony recovered, quickly seizing his chance to hopefully make things right with the beauty standing before him.

"No, yeah, that's fine. I'm sorry about earlier, really. I... I just couldn't help but notice your very pretty."

Mira's eyes narrowed but she allowed a tiny smile to break her lips,

"Thanks," she said, trying to sprinkle an additional tone just a bit higher than neutral, "Anthony was it?"

"Yeah," the young man said nodding and trying to act nonchalant, he was a little at ease knowing she wasn't going to cause an embarrassing scene, and now he might have even started to enjoy the conversation. He was hoping for a lot more time with her, and maybe even if things went well enough they could look back on this whole situation and laugh that the awkward memory.

Holding out a piece of folded notebook paper in between her fingers, the tips of which were a polished shade of black, she handed him her cell phone number already prepared for Anthony to use, he took it and looked at it with a slight blush before placing it in his pant's pocket.

"Text me and I'll send you my address, my apartment isn't very far from here and I don't feel like spending any more of my night here at school. I'm only free for the next day, so let's try and knock this out tonight."

The boy who was just slightly turning red nodded obediently as she concluded issuing her terms with him. Anthony knew he was indebted to her for his inappropriate actions earlier, so he understood she was going to dictate how this whole temporary partnership was going to transpire and he decided to try and avoid conflict by simply going along with it and complying.

"Yeah, sure, sounds good," the young man said without resisting.

Mira took one last silent look at him, her eyes sharp like razors and her utter physical stillness seemingly inhuman in a strange way he couldn't quite put his finger on as he stared back.

Then, she took a few steps away and went around him without speaking a word more, as she passed him Anthony saw her eyebrow raise and a smirk appear on her face. He didn't turn and follow her with his eyes as she walked down the steps and towards the nearest exit, he honestly was too afraid to even look at her again, and he wondered to himself how he'd survive an hour or two more with her, alone in her own apartment no less. As his worries for the future, unbeknownst to him, found themselves on an oddly, somewhat prophetic path, he began to walk out of the room himself.

Up in the highest corner of the auditorium, sitting beneath the shadows of the ceiling where lights from the roof were burned out and dead, a figure wreathed in the blackness of un-light tossed another potato chip from its small bag into its mouth, the canine teeth of the humanoid being's smile curiously pronounced and sharp.

Its eyes narrowed and the smile on its face grew as the dark encompassed the area around the thing's chosen vantage point to sit and observe. The evening was beginning now, the sunset of the day was burning out slowly as the night crept ever forward without pause, and by all accounts the poor boy had only a few hours to live.

Another salty chip crunched between its teeth as it watched Anthony Drewgann leave the hall with the last of the students in the lecture, the human teacher following close behind with his business bag and coat. The instructor held the door open and paused, looking around the classroom briefly and seeing no remaining pupils of his charge within the building. Without a second thought, the man clicked the lights off and headed out the door and home like most of his students, the heavy metal of the exit slamming shut with a loud, echoing thud. The creature high above remained as if nothing had changed, taking another bite of his completely unnecessary snack.

The humanoid form stared with yellow, glowing eyes into the empty air, as if watching a film or an event of great importance playing out before his unblinking gaze, and as it stared, it began to laugh.

+ + + +

Anthony finally knocked after what seemed like hours of mental preparation, the cool chill of the evening weather piercing through gaps beneath his sweater and brushing his hand as it came out of his pocket to strike the wood of the door. He had his backpack on thrown over one shoulder, his eyes cast around nervously as he felt apprehension prickle its way up his spine for what felt like the thousandth time today.

It was windy outside, adding to the bone brittling cold of the night, he hoped Mira answered soon, the short walk from his own apartment had worn down on him and he was eager to be indoors again. The gusts of air crackled the branches of nearby trees and brushed the grass as it blew to and fro, other than that however, the night was ominously silent.

Suddenly feeling like he hadn't prepared himself nearly enough for the encounter, the deadbolt of the apartment entrance clunked over and the door opened, revealing the simple one bedroom home's interior, along with its sole occupant.

Mira stood in the doorway, blue cotton sweatpants and a matching sweater concealing most of her body. Anthony saw that under the light jacket, she had on a clean white tank top, exposed by the garment covering it being purposefully left unzipped.

"Uhm, hey?" Anthony said, unable to hide the widening of his eyes and the warm wash over red coming over his face.

"I-I, I um," the overwhelmed young man swallowed anxiously as he tried and failed to formulate a complete sentence.

Mira simply smiled in response, closed her eyes, and shook her head slowly back and forth, not hiding the fact that she found the poor sod's heart and mind so easily manipulated.

Standing to one side, holding the door open, Mira finally broke the new moment of silence, beckoning him inside with a single extended index finger.

"Come on lover-boy, I'm sure its cold out there."

Anthony almost physically had to shake himself back to reality as he heard Mira talk, her voice was a little deeper than the typical high pitch of girls her age, but it was still very attractive, and faintly held the tone of a sensual, alluring tease.

The stiffened boy came inside quickly and stood the side of his host as she shut the door and locked it, this wasn't something that bothered him of course, she obviously lived alone and the action probably just reflected her habitual caution, so he thought nothing of it.

Now inside the apartment, Anthony could see it had a small living room with a pair of two dark green fabric couches facing a flat screen television, and a kitchen that was behind that, straight ahead of the front door about ten meters away. The tile of the kitchen was shined white and the counter tops appeared the same. The only other thing besides the obvious refrigerator and microwave was a small black dining table with four chairs of the same set.

A nice little place, as he reflected to himself, the only thing he couldn't see was down a single hallway near where the plain brown carpet met the tile of the kitchen, he imagined the bedroom and bathroom were not far that way somewhere. The most exciting observation he made however, was the magnificent scent that was currently wafting through the air and caressing his sense of smell. The unmistakable smell of warm, sugary sweet, hot chocolate.

Mira caught his nostrils flare and witnessed the moment his heart soared at the prospect of a soothingly warm cup of cocoa after his time outside in the frigid air, he must have walked a short distance because she hadn't anticipated he'd be so eager and willing to go for what she had figured was obvious bait.

Mira began to get excited herself, he was easier than any other guy she'd done this to. He was naive and soft, something like a newborn calf headed straight for her veal factory without having a chance to ever understand it was doomed.

The young woman began to plan what she would do with him, his fate was certain, that was sure, so she allowed the joy of her potential pleasures to flood her head as she forced a fake smile one last time. Would he beg? Anthony definitely seemed like a begger. Would he scream upon seeing her for the first time? She chuckled silently in her thoughts knowing full well that he would. He was so nice, so frail in the soul, and she could see he liked her, maybe even in some small way already genuinely cared for her. Every drop of what he was would make the end of his life mercilessly more intoxicating for Mira.

"I made you some hot chocolate, its just in the kitchen on the table, go ahead and help yourself. I'm gonna go grab my notes and we can get started."

Mira sidestepped around Anthony as she headed around the corner of the hallway, he watched her for a second, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him. As she disappeared from sight, he walked over towards the direction of the brightly lit kitchen, the blue cup of hot chocolate coming into view, vapor trails of hot steam rising from its freshly-made liquid contents.

Mira was pretty cool, thought Anthony, she was also extremely pretty, and seeing as how she was in one of the same classes he was, she was probably smart and even about his age. Things really were becoming exciting in more ways than one, and as he allowed his mood to bounce and take flight, he took a careless step into the kitchen, his right foot touching the tile and with its contact, sending an electric shock of pain exploding through his entire body in an instant.

Unnatural red electric discharge cracked and fired all around the unsuspecting man's frame as his shoe touched the difference in floor material, arcs of the quick flashing static burned and stabbed needles of pain wherever they met his clothes or his bare, less protected, flesh. The agony of the sudden assault forced him to the ground rolling over in an instant, then onto his side and brought a cry of horrible anguish to his lips as he collapsed, falling to a broken pile onto the cold tile of the kitchen. The strange jolts of crimson electricity danced and rebounded off surfaces nearby in the kitchen, the floor and table burnished in one or two places as the scorching temperature of the charged air kissed their surfaces in millisecond bursts of violent snaps and scorches.

After what must have been an eternity, the blood lightning ceased, Anthony lie on the floor smoldering as if freshly baked from the ovens of hell. His eyes were tightly closed and tears ran down his face as every centimeter of his skin felt as if though it had been seared by coals from a blasting furnace. Anthony shivered as if cold, his breath catching and his esophagus clenching and releasing in spasms without cause or explanation. The young adult tried to breath as his airway went on to clear, he inhaled great lung fulls of precious oxygen as every muscle felt as though it ached from a thousand year slumber. At last he slowly opened his eyes, his body in a feeble heap and occasionally still twitching in response to the shock of the unexplained violence.

His breathing soon returned to normal, the pain as well, rushed away as his eyes focused on his surroundings, an explainable moment of clarity and calm encompassing his body and the area. As Anthony began to lift his head from the ground, he could immediately see something that he did not understand. The man pushed himself up to rise, a small trickle of blood rolling out of his right nostril as he sat shakily up into a seated position. The counter. The fridge. The table and the walls. Everything was proportioned wrong.

Anthony's breathing rasped as his mouth opened in confusion, the lower half of his jaw falling of its own accord. Everything he could lay his eyes on was huge, beyond description in its size, he couldn't believe what he was seeing in the slightest and he thought for a moment that maybe he'd been injured to the point of delirium. A moment ago, he was walking towards the table to retrieve his cup of cocoa, and then after what he knew was the worst pain he'd ever experienced in his life, he found himself looking up, instead of levelly at everything within his previous view.

Anthony shook his head and collected his fleeting thoughts, he stood, very carefully, and before he could complete his full height, he dropped back to his knees and expelled a stomach full of bile onto the pristine white tile, marring its surface with a pouring of ghastly fluids. On his hands and knees now, he gritted his teeth at a pain that tore within his stomach as his muscles convulsed with shock, and as he did so a voice boomed from high above, the tone from a woman, but just barely lower typically than a girl of his own age.

"Its always a little rough right after," Mira said, looking almost straight down at him from what seemed like miles away in the air, the vast expanse of her beautiful figure extending on and on, "But you'll feel better in a few minutes... That, I promise."

Anthony rolled onto the side of his body, still propped up and looking skyward, his head snapping to the direction from whence the titanic voice echoed.

Mira...? The tiny man's eyes were wide, as a result of which emotion however, he could not be sure. She wore the attire Anthony had seen her in a few moments ago, except now her sweater had been curiously discarded. She was directly behind where he come to lay collapsed and abused, towards the very middle of the kitchen floor transition, and she towered over his entire world.

"...Mira?" the man below gasped out hesitantly, fear and uncertainty lacing his speech.

The enormous woman simply smiled down at him in response, she always used the kitchen as the setting for her cruel trap, because when victims were unknowingly shrunk to about the size of a dime, they were easy to spot on the bright contrast of the clean tile floor.

The insignificant man at Mira's feet started to stand, he was pathetically small compared to her, and she always loved the first few minutes of shock and awe her toys went through when they were changed forever. She loved when they came to terms with it, and then looked to her for hope or rescue, she reviled in the delight of destroying their hope utterly, and then, in the most disturbing ways possible, destroying them however she saw fit.

"W-what... I mean... How did-"

She cut him off as he began to predictably speak in a daze.

"I did this to you, Anthony. And no, don't ask the obvious, you're not dreaming."

He didn't, he couldn't understand. The man on the tile floor dropped his eyes and looked around again, now facing towards the rest of the apartment, looking passed Mira's uncovered feet and black painted toenails looming nearby. What was this all about? Why? How?

A million questions ran through Anthony's mind as his night spun faster and faster out of control, all the while his new female friend stood casually against her shoulder on the wall of the apartment, smiling down at him with a look he was becoming more uncomfortable with by the moment.

"But, but Mira? Why did you do this to me?" the humanoid insect on the floor stammered at last.

"Well, little ant, it seemed like you wanted to get to know me a little better, so I thought we'd have a little date. Just you and I."

"A... date?" The young man said clearly bewildered.

"That's right, I need you to satisfy a little urge I have, the best kind of urge, really..."

The man's heart began to quicken and his breathing started to rise with each thump of his nervous chest. This wasn't natural, it was beyond comprehension really, the whole situation, but something about Mira's tone and especially her answer made him uneasy. And that look she was giving him...

"An, an urge you have?"

"Yes, my little tiny, an urge I have, one that only you can satisfy believe it or not."

Anthony didn't like her particular choice of words, she'd ceased calling him by his name, instead choosing to relabel him as less than human, and that was something that scared him, so much in fact, he was close to losing control of his bladder while he looked up at her. She stood before him impossibly huge, like a goddess who stepped over mountains as if they were sand castles, and he truly was, now at her feet, an insect to her and it horrified him each second she reminded him of that.

"Its simple really, I just want you to die!"

A terrifying chord like the strum of a sinister violin shrieked in Anthony's soul as his eyes glossed over as wide as dinner plates. His stomach lurched and his heart threatened to detonate from his chest at the words Mira had just spoken down to him. The lower half of his mouth fell again in mortified disbelief as his lip trembled at the thought of what the giant girl had just announced to him.

Mira could see it now, that delicious look on his face, that sudden inescapable fear piercing into his marrow and driving out the insect's purest, most unadulterated, horror. She smiled wider down at him, and she even allowed a laugh to part her gums as she fractionally tilted her head back closing her eyes in amusement at his sheer distress. Her lower lip curled, her teeth squeezing it down with minute pressure as the circumstances of the situation overflowed her sense of pleasure. She brought her eyes back to her tiny prey down on the floor and opened them menacingly, her gaze looking passed the perfect curve of her breasts as they sat idly within her low cut tank.

"That's all bug... That's all you're good for...That's all you have to offer me... and that's all I want from you." She said excitedly as if it were a small price to pay.

"But hey, you're pretty sweet and kinda cute, you also don't strike me as a jerk or as someone only interested in sex like literally every other guy that I've killed." She paused for an instant, allowing her eyes to drift over and a way for a moment as if contemplating something.

"So...I know! I'll let you choose! I personally prefer to use my own body, but I'll do whatever you ask, I swear!"

"W-what? You can't be serious!" Anthony shouted up to her in disbelief, noticing for the first time his hands were shaking .

"I am," Mira said replacing her excited enthusiasm, lowering her voice to a frighteningly low tone and narrowing her eyes, clearly attempting to intimidate him.

"And if you don't choose quickly, I'll lose my patience with you."

The tiny man stared up at her, the attractive face he'd been daydreaming about earlier now pinning his body to the tile floor, with only its assurance it could end him, alone.

The giant woman tilts her head back and gives a devious smile, keeping her eyes locked on the in tall human silhouette.

"I've put one in the microwave before, you know..." She almost whispers down to him.

"I've eaten some... I crush most, usually... And I actually really enjoy you little things with cereal, its always so fun to just eat and then be surprised at some point by a tiny pop...It's sometimes hard to even tell you're dead, you're all so insignificant."

Anthony lost his voice along with his nerve, they were gone now, both never to return.

"So come on Anthony, sweetheart, what's it gonna be?"

She didn't think he would answer, and he of course didn't make a sound. He could no more respond to the question than he could go back to his normal size. The tiny insect of a man far below was beaten, his hope ground to nothing, like he himself was about to be beneath Mira's foot. There was, this microscopic part of the woman's heart that wanted to keep him, he was sweet, he was kind, he'd make for an adorable pet she thought, but she loved the way insects died much more than they lived. She'd make the same decision to kill him a hundred times out of a hundred times, and never feel a drop of guilt for the choice that was made.

Shame, really, but oh well.

Mira rolled her eyes down at him and didn't plan to say another word as he stayed speechless before her right foot, the black painted nails promising that they were now to be the bearers of his execution in his final breaths of life.

Without another thought she lifted her foot and brought it over Anthony, he collapsed backwards beneath it and fell onto his back looking up at the bottom of her bare, unblemished sole in complete and utter horror. She stretched her arch teasingly and wiggled her toes slowly, allowing the fear to build up in the tiny insect that was now Anthony. With a quick flick of her ankle she took one last glance down at him, moving her foot aside to give herself a clear, unimpeded look at her victim, helpless and at her non-existent mercy. Like they almost always did, he was holding one of his arms up in hilarious vanity, as if he could halt the incalculable weight of her foot, let alone her whole body.

With a smile and a wink, she flicked her foot back directly over him, and brought it down without pausing to impact the floor, his body offering no resistance whatsoever. Anthony was destroyed utterly with an earth shattering earthquake to him, and a small thud to Mira, apparently without even enough time to let out a cry of absolute terror. The body of the former man was pulverized in an instant, his bones shattering and the meat and blood of his life squishing to a grizzly paste beneath the cold stare of the woman who had crushed out his life.

Mira felt the warm skin of her sole contact with the floor, the tile was chilly and it was a pleasant feeling as she held her foot down, the glorious, microscopic little crunch a second ago accompanied by a barely noticeable spot of warmth from her prey's final demise. Her toes flexed and took in the pleasure of the cold touch the kitchen floor offered as a reward for her decision to go bare foot tonight.

She exhaled and closed her eyes. He was better than the rest, really he was. Maybe it was because he liked Mira, or maybe she had just immensely enjoyed the build up to the whole night. No matter.

As the feeling of momentary pleasure climaxed and faded away, something odd began to occur. She started to...feel something... Like the air around her had changed somehow. Confused, Mira looked over her shoulder and cast her gaze about the apartment. Suddenly, down the hall, she saw the light of her bedroom begin to fade slowly, as if a small sun was going down, and not just on, then off, like the switch would cause.

It faded, until it went black, casting the opening of her room in darkness. Then, the hallway light began to fade. And the living room. And the kitchen. Every light in Mira's home was slowly dimming with unrelenting certitude until in just a few heartbeats, she was shrouded in darkness.

Mira's heart raced and her breath was quick, she was afraid and she didn't of what, nor did she know what was going on. The air in the room was warm now, uncomfortably warm despite the frigid cold outside.

A voice. A voice came from the blackness. There was a distinct lack of light sources within view, but somehow, Mira could still see just barely the outlines of her furniture, her table, the hallway, she could not however, see anyone or anything that could be talking. She jumped and her heart thudded in her rib cage as the voice said her name.

"Miiirrra..."

She wheeled around in place, the speech sounding like it was coming from the living room. The voice was male, a deep pitch like thunder, like bedrock grinding on iron. And It was not entirely human. The tone from whatever it was seemed to perpetually echo, like whenever it spoke it was sourced from multiple voices not quite in perfect harmony. A bead of sweat rolled down Mira's temple, from both the heat and the genuine unease she was feeling.

"W-who's there," she finally called out to the lightless air.

The room did not respond at first, she instead could almost feel the quiet shadows coiling and curling around despite the complete lack of sound, like snakes preparing strike with their fangs brandished and ready to deliver toxic paralysis. Whatever was happening, Mira knew behind her minds eye, it was because of her actions. The total noiselessness was the promise that more was to come, and that whatever the thing now occupying her home was, it would be sure to make itself known in time.

"Your bloodline is tainted...Mira Lamia... But you..."

The voice halts for a contemptuous pause, its change in tone betraying its obvious anger at uttering the following words.

"You were always doomed to be corrupt..."

With that, all the lights in the house, from the bulb in the microwave, to the ones in the purpose built light fixtures, snapped alive together as if bringing the sun into the small apartment. Temporarily blinded, Mira shielded her eyes with her arms and hands, protecting them from the sudden blast of illumination, the heat inside the room was now something like a hot summer day at the beach and it felt like it wasn't going to stop increasing.

When her eyes regained focused and adjusted to the vibrancy of the bulbs, they subsided a measured amount to allow for a more comfortable level of light, and there before her, was a humanoid figure, left delivered by the dazzling rays.

It was a he, as far as Mira could tell and he was tall, inhumanly tall at that, nearly touching the ceiling with the top of his head that was covered in long, jet black hair that looked more like the unkempt mane of a great beast. She gasped out as her eyes were wide with surprise and fear, the being wore all black, but he was not entirely covered in clothes. It wore a ragged black vest, reminiscent of the attire stereotypical biker gangs were always seen wearing in movies, but his looked ancient by comparison, as if it were the the first one to establish the trend in all deviants to follow through the ages. His arms were bare, as was the layer beneath the vest, and Mira could clearly make out straight steel-like ridges of musculature and brawn. His legs had black, fur inspired trousers on that went all the way down to his ankles, bits of chain mail rings decorating them here and there. On him wasn't an ounce of fat, his body as she beheld him in shock, was bulging with firm and toned musculature wherever she looked, his physique as well as his overall appearance made him seem cast from the mold of some ancient, forgotten, barbaric god.

"But I am here to offer you the chance, to correct that," the barbarian said, eyes gleaming in a wide, unblinking stare of brilliant, shining yellow. His hair was knotted in places with fetishes of bone and something like animal teeth in other select groups of strands. The skin of the intruder was a fair white, marred in random spots with deep scars of savage tears and vicious wounds that all left reminders of those who had tried, and failed, to deliver a killing blow.

"You are corrupt Mira Lamia, from your very inception it has been so. You and your adoptive mother were in league with dark creations whom you could not possibly begin to understand."

Mira spoke back, her eyes daring, finding the spark of her life's defiant fire and producing it before the judgmental invader.

"My mother saved me!"

The man before her remained completely motionless as his right eyebrow raised and his mouth split in what could only be described as the most genuine of diabolical smiles, a dark understanding passing between the two that whispered with absolute sincerity that she was lying. The canines of the man in black speared out, being revealed as his lips parted, showing Mira for the first time, if his height, voice, and general demeanor had not been sufficient enough, that he was inhuman.

Slowly, and with a deliberate pace to emphasize the severity of the conversation, the newcomer started to take steps forward and towards the girl standing at the edge of the kitchen, she flinched and in turn stepped back in building apprehension. It only took a couple of strides, his stature closing the relative short distance in no time at all, his heavy black boots resounding on the carpet regardless of its soft consistency.

He stopped, just before Mira and stared down at her, the glow of his eyes peering into her soul.

"You are half human, and half devil because of your guardian's ignorance. Normally this wouldn't matter, the world is full of monsters such as yourself. But you however, you have abused your inhuman abilities just a little to much tonight."

Mira couldn't respond, she knew that she had been the spawning of a dark covenant that her mother had bartered with in secret over the years. And the being was right, the world was full of monsters, demons, creatures... Things that even myth and legends created by the stories of men around crackling campfires on the eeriest moonlit nights didn't compare to. Monsters, such as herself.

"Normally you'd be dead for such an abuse of your undeserved gifts, but I'm a sentimental thing. And your mother, well, I must say she sacrificed generously over the years."

Mira trembled as she understood what the man was saying, his low, tempered voice wasn't more than a whisper, yet it carried power and palpable strength that vibrated her skin as it left his lips.

"S-so, you're some type of god?"

The man smiled and narrowed his eyes.

"I am to you, what a passing stranger is to a worm in a field."

He allowed himself to bend down and over, carefully placing his oversized mouth to the side of Mira's head as she resisted the urge to recoil. He spoke into her ear without any doubt of truth or fragment of humor. As the words left his mouth, the half-breed human could feel the contained energy of unknown fury in its voice.

"You have no idea... What I am..." Mira shut her eyes as she trembled, he remained there for a few breaths next to her skull, the drawing and exhalation of oxygen from his nostrils accompanied by the rolling grumble of a a beast like a lion when at comparative rest.

"So," he said with a sudden casual nature, standing back up full and straight, "I'm here to offer you a chance to avoid a fate worse than hell itself."

The black beast took steps away and back into the living room, turning his back on Mira to her honest relief.

"Taking into account the contributions of your mother's fealty over the years, and the constant worship of your ancestors in general, I think you'll find what I'm about offer you is, fair enough."

"Wait," the young woman replied, embolden by the creature's altered demeanor,
"I don't understand, why haven't you come before? I've done shitty things in the past and you came tonight? Why? Why tonight?"

The man kept silent after the question, Mira didn't ask again or continue for fear of provoking the beast, understanding as he spoke why this night had been so special, indeed.

"He was kind, Mira. That one was different from the others you toyed with in your depraved pleasures. But it wasn't just his death at your hands that resulted in this transgression,"

His tone was soft, actually soft, as he continued on lowly and clearly laced with remorse, as if somehow he had lost a friend in the situation.

"It was that you took such joy in his light being extinguished, half-breed."

The girl swallowed and pursed her lips crossing her arms over her chest, awkwardly looking away, like a child understanding too late that she was caught in the wrong.

"I wonder if he'll beg," recited the man in black, "he seems like a begger."

Mira's eyes displayed clear and deep fright as they shot back to the man who's back was to her, the woman's inner most thoughts being given voice by some means she did not understand.

"I wonder, if he'll scream like all the rest..."

The man let his words hang in the air as he turned with a predator's grace back to face the sweating woman, the room's temperature was sweltering now, and it was definitely as a result of the intruder who had arrived just a few minutes ago, though he himself was not perspiring, nor did he appear to even notice it.

"So, Mira... You have one year to make a case for yourself. One year to convince him that what you did was wrong, that you are deserving of his forgiveness, and that he can trust you."

"H-he?" Mira said confused, stuttering at the impossible idea the other powerful monster seemed to be suggesting.

The giant smiled once more, decorative, black tribal tattoos crisscrossing most of his exposed skin not scarred by old, healed wounds. He continued to speak, disregarding the fact she didn't quite understand, and forced her eyes to stare into his.

"Should any harm come to him that displeases me, or should you take the life of another as pure as he...Should you fail in this Mira Lamia..."

He trailed off, keeping her eyes fixated within his own stare. In a moment that came and went in less time than it takes a dying heart to strain with its final beat, Mira had collapsed to the ground on her knees. Her hands were forced to her head, clutching and clawing with her fingertips at the fabric of her fragile mind. Her mouth exploded in the scream of a person given the vision of every death that took place in the cosmos for the last moment of the ticking clock. Agony flooded her eyes, every lie of every man ever spoken bombarded her ears. The scourge of un-life raked at her flesh and tore at all nerves within her existence capable of feeling pain. The feeling clawed at her without mercy, brought her to tears instantly, sending her into uncontrollable sobs and wordless cries left her throat as the man in black simply looked down at her with indifference. She shuddered violently. She prayed for it to stop, breaking instantly under the pressure of such a promise for repentance. She screamed for it to stop, she begged on her knees.

Then, only after she begged, did he stop the madness plaguing her. It was only for a moment, but what he had done to her would remind her of the torment she would endure at the prospect of failing. It truly didn't matter, to the creature who caused her the torture, what she decided to do in the end, he was simply offering the half-breed the choice to control her own destiny.

Mira shook despite the subsiding heat of the room, she could feel the presence of the other monster gone now, his metaphysical torment concluded, his message delivered. Reassuringly all the lights that had been off before were off now, confirming the apartment had returned to normal. The young girl got up and leaned her back against the back of her couch, the black devil was gone, whoever or whatever it was, and she was alone again. The young demonette panted and felt liquid still running from her eyes onto her face.

Mira wiped tears from her cheeks and sighed heavily. She knew exactly what she was in truth, she'd never try to deny it or make excuses to anyone despite what she was inside. Lives had ended in terrible ways at her behest, solely to serve her own twisted desires and for not a single reason more. Those desires however were due directly in part to the demon side of her heart that she evidently could not control. She wanted to believe that she could, she wanted to believe she would one day be a good person, but there had been nothing in her short life that suggested that would ever come to pass. The pretty young girl of only twenty-six, was truly, irreversibly, detached from humanity. The worst of it, was that her other, before she had died had warned her of this, when she was still a little girl, and she had listened... For a while...

As Mira reflected on her life and the horrors she'd wrought throughout it, she brought her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as if needing to embrace a lover. When she did so however, something caught her eye on the floor. It was small, but the shape was familiar to her, Mira realized. Her throat tensed, and ominous anxiety returned to her heart despite the devil who had brought her suffering had already vacated the home.

On the floor, lying face down next to her, unconscious, but definitely breathing, was a man the size of a dime in a jacket and with hair the same shade of brown as her own.

It was Anthony Drewgann.

Anthony felt the brush of soft fabric on the tip of his nose, dulled sunlight was coming through his eyelids making the insides of them an off red before his clouded vision. He stirred; the shoulder he lay on, against what he realized was the surface of a couch, aching and sore. The man inhaled deeply and let out a sigh of exhaustion, it was apparently morning, the light of the early hour piercing through gaps in the nearby window shades of the apartment’s front facing glass.

Anthony rolled over and opened his eyes groggily, the accumulated dust and grime of the night making his lids irritably difficult to crack free of each other, he rubbed them, only then starting to sit up and gaining a picture of what, and who, was sitting before him.

Across the room, sitting on a shorter, but similarly colored couch, covered in a plush brown throw blanket was Mira, and in between her hands, she held a mug, the contents of which gave off the unmistakable scent of freshly poured hot cocoa. She stared over at him, her eyes giving that same unflinching, menacing gaze, the faintest split of a smile coming to her face as if pleased with herself in some way.

Anthony’s thoughts refocused in a flash of recollection, he placed the back of his hand beneath his nose and rubbed his upper lip, a speckled smear of blood coming away with it as he brought it back to his face to examine. He looked down at the dried, cracked bits of the precious crimson remains, he knew the night had not been a dream, but in some small way, he clung to the frail hope that it had been.

He looked back over at Mira sitting casually with her legs to her chest and her feet resting on the cushion. The young woman was looking at the smear of dark red too, as he checked to confirm his nightmare had been all too real, glancing back up to meet his eyes in return, acknowledging as well that she had played a part in his terrifying ordeal. Anthony’s breath was heightening, his pulse raising sharply as his throat collapsed with nervous anxiety, he was still in the den of the beast he remembered, and she was hadn’t decided on simply allowing him to escape either. As if to emphasize this observation, or in just some perverse form of mockery, Mira lifted the mug of hot chocolate to her plush, feminine lips and took a drawn-out sip of its murky liquid, deliberately trying to make a slurping noise as she did so.

The sitting man calmed himself, taking a deep breath to curb his on setting panic. The two sat across from each other in total silence, their lives and relationship changed forever in a way that virtually no one would ever come close to understanding. The truth of the matter however, at least on Anthony’s end of the situation, was far worse than he was letting on to.

Mira finally broke the uncomfortable lack of noise between the pair as the human in the room rose to stand; her voice was soft, in a lower volume than it would be in normal conversation.

“I don’t suppose I could interest you in some hot chocolate?”

“Fuck you,” came back Anthony in a growled whisper looking down at her, his hatred on display as clear as his blood had been on the crisp white of the kitchen floor.

Mira looked down and away as she shook her head once in obviously faked surprise, her voice maintained its measured calm as she joked casually back in reply, her eyes refocusing on him once more,

“Down, boy,” she muttered to Anthony, as if he were a misbehaving pet, taking another sip of her chocolate delight and keeping him fixed within her stare.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that,” stammered the standing boy, he too now shaking his head in complete disbelief.

“You swear like I made it awful on you,” Mira responded in a half dismissive, then half-reassuring tone, “and trust me… I could have…”

Anthony glanced up and away shaking his head, finally tearing his eyes away from the now back-to-normal sized beauty. He looked around the room still at a total loss for words and entirely submerged in his emotional turmoil. As he turned away and rubbed his eyes, a tidal wash of distress threatened to consume his nerve with each passing moment, the leftover fragments of pain, death, fear, and hopelessness refusing to dispel after the traumatic experience of the night.

He glanced over his shoulder and asked the woman sitting without a care,

“Where’s my stuff, and my jacket,” Anthony had noticed his backpack was missing, as was his black sweater which at some point had been inexplicably removed from him, though he was certain he’d never actually taken it off during the course of his visit.

Without answering verbally, Mira simply nodded in the direction the corner of the room was, and following her inclined head, Anthony found his belongings piled in the bend of the wall.

“I need to use your bathroom,” he managed, now quiet and restrained.

The girl raised her mug to her lips again, but before taking a drink, she replied flatly, not objecting in the least.

“Down the hall, to the right,” and only after speaking did she sip more of her cocoa.

Anthony nodded and turned his head back around and away; walking as soon as he did passed the couch, towards the hallway and the restroom, Mira’s eyes, unknown to the human, never leaving him.

He walked through the door and leaned over the sink turning the faucet open and on, releasing a stream of cold water into his cupped, trembling hands. He brought some water to his face and rubbed his eyes and cheeks, the frigid cold of the splashed droplets steeling his willpower and bringing him back down hard to earth with the shocking temperature.

As Anthony brought his eyes up and towards the mirror, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection and its shaken demeanor, for some reason he looked different to himself, and he knew beneath his worry it was because he really would not ever be the same again, after what he had experienced. Turning quickly he found Mira standing next to him, leaned up against the door frame, her mug gone and her elegant body wrapped in her brown blanket.

“Anthony,” she began, now at a normal speaking voice, looking over at him with the intense sharpness of her eyes, “we need to talk.”

“Talk?” Anthony almost laughed out, “What is there to talk about?”

He turned to face her, wiping his wet skin dry on a nearby hanging towel of hers, then giving the woman his undivided, albeit visibly discomposed, attention.

“The fact that I came to a classmate’s apartment last night, alone, under the impression we were going to do some stupid homework, and ended up dead, then alive again? Or maybe you want to talk about that you’re not only a little bit unhinged, to say the fucking least, but not even human?”

Mira was silent, tolerating the outburst that had brought her latest victim’s voice to a shout now. He paused for a moment after the last remark, looking down at her with regretfully disappointed eyes, she didn’t look away, and part of him wished she would just for once.

“You…You killed me,” he finally forced out at last, a clear distraught tremor to his voice, afraid of even uttering the words, as if doing so might herald the possibility of repeating the incident. The pair stood in silence, the accusation irrefutable, nightmarishly so in fact.

He didn’t want to touch her, he didn’t even want to be near her, but casting aside his fear, or maybe just not even caring anymore, he shouldered passed her and headed back down the hall, intent on gathering his things and getting far away from here.

“Anthony,” she said after him, the young man ignoring her words as he threw on his jacket and scooped up his bag, “The curse Anthony, it’ll swing again in less than eleven hours. I hit you with it at exactly 7PM last night, and at 7AM this morning it was reversed,” she was trying to force vital information into his head, but she could tell she was losing him, he was just too distraught, too clouded in vivid, fresh memories and tumultuous emotions.

“Anthony!” She raised her voice, finally accepting he was going to doom them both if she didn’t get through to him here and now, he stopped as he made his way near the front door, not close enough to reach out and grab the knob, but facing away from her as she remains standing by the hallway entrance.

“Listen to me, at 7PM tonight you’ll go back to being tiny again, and when that happens if you aren’t safe and something happens to you-“

“Just stop alright!” He shouted, raising his voice over hers to silence the girl, “Even if you are telling the truth, why should I care Mira? Why should I care what that thing does to you for the rest of eternity?”

His body had swiveled abruptly so that they were face to face again, Mira could see the human’s eyes glistening as his tear ducts puffed and filled.

The young man swallowed hard and his eyes betrayed a small tinge of remorse for her despite what he was saying, it was only for a few precious seconds, but they both knew they had not imagined it; he turned away back towards the door, unable to look at her as he continued.

“I…Felt it…Mira,” he whispered, as if to only himself but loud enough that she could hear, “I felt what you felt…in that moment.” A tear ran down his cheek as the incomprehensibly dark emotion hidden in the shadows of his mind, like a prowling monster it stayed at the very edges of his soul, but it was there, stalking him with its evil.

Mira had assumed he was talking about the pain of his death, his final breath of life cruelly crushed out of his lungs by the weight of her monolithic foot, but as he spoke further, she found she was far from the truth.

“I know what you are, what you need to satisfy your, urges,” he says grinding out the last word, the same one she had used to describe the reason and purpose for his agony at her behest.

“Honestly Mira, I actually kind of liked you,” Anthony chuckles out, the absurdity of the thought now hilarious to him given what he knew about her, “but now, you deserve whatever happens to you.”

The woman across the room felt his attempt to twist the proverbial knife, she wasn’t entirely immune to the guilt he was trying to hit her in the face with, but at this present time, she was more concerned with the problem at hand, so she ignored his spiteful words.

“See you in a year, Mira,” Anthony said with grim, hateful finality. He took steps towards the door walking away from her and grabbed the handle and lock, no blast of pain, no detonation of agony, the door just opened as he clicked the deadbolt over and twisted the knob.

The half-demon watched him walk out, his arm slamming the wooden opening to the apartment shut behind him as he did so, not looking back.

“Idiot,” she thought angrily in her mind, staring at the paint on the now idle front door, “he’s going to get us both killed.”

Stubbornly pushing the human’s words out of her mind, despite knowing she really shouldn’t, Mira turned and headed for her room to change. She was in for a long day, and possibly an even longer night, not exactly the way she wanted to spend her Saturday.

+ + + +

Anthony let the ball flow cleanly out of his hand and up into the air, his feet off the ground and an opposing player in front of him trying without success to block his shot. The orange, faded and worn basketball sailed up and over the defender as the young man’s body drifted back and away from his release, his shooting hand extended in good form and technique. The ball sank quickly down, embracing the touch of gravity and swished with a crisp, “swoosh,” as the net slid around it, the ball not knocking the rim of the basket at all. The ball bounced with a protracted echo as it came back to the polished wood of the indoor court, resounding with a successful retort at scoring a three-point shot.

“Time!” shouted one of the nearby boys as he held up his cellphone with a timer into the air, indicating that the shot had been made legally before the end of the half.

Anthony and his team all came together and high-fived, knocking each other with good-humored jeers and jabs of encouragement, the last shot by him had put them ahead after 20 minutes of back and forth struggle with the other players during the course of the casual pick-up match.

Anthony’s best friend Kyle came over and made his way through the group as they began to disperse and head for some nearby bleachers to take a predetermined break for the ending of the half. He placed his arm around Anthony’s neck and pulled at him, pushing him around playfully in payment for keeping them in the run for victory.

“Nice shot nerd, I still can’t believe you never tried out for the team, man,” Kyle said as he shoved his buddy around a bit. He was not as tall as Anthony, and he was slighter of stature, but both guys were evenly built with athletic frames, toned well enough with muscle and strength that complimented their closely matched age. Where the taller man was brown haired, Kyle was instead bleach blonde, green-eyed and always carrying himself as the jokester in somewhat stark contrast to his normally more serious companion.

Kyle and Anthony had known each other a very long time, going back as far as middle school, they’d go on to graduate the same high school, at one point work the same job, and eventually even end up at the same college all these years later. Kyle and Anthony were so close, they didn’t even really discern between either boy’s family, they seemed to be from the same exact stock when it came to that, both treated one another’s parents as their own, and the duo enjoyed the love and attention of two sets of supportive mom’s and dad’s. All this, of course, resulted in deep trust and an understanding of one another that was nearly impossible to keep things from, and just as hard to lie to.

Anthony wiped his brow full of sweat with one free hand having not responded, he was quiet, seemingly far too focused on something, but simultaneously somewhat distracted by that which plagued him. Kyle could see it, he had noticed it ever since he’d ran into him at the beginning of the evening, something troubled him, and he wanted to know what it was.

Anthony had been at home when Kyle earlier messaged him on his phone, telling him he was going to be out with a few friends for a pick-up game later in the day if he was interested. The shaken young man had been home, actually asleep, trying any way he could think of possible to forget any part of the night before.

Nothing had worked.

“Hey, Big D,” Anthony looked over at the mention of his nickname, his last name brought forth the first letter of D, and Kyle had called him other subtle variations of it since they’d been in high school, where the “big,” portion of it came from, he wasn’t sure, maybe Kyle just thought it had sounded cool at the time.

“Yeah? What?” Anthony said in a conflicted, distracted daze looking over, the pair were walking towards metal and plastic arena bleachers, the building was large, large enough to accommodate six full-sized basketball courts as well as their appropriate seating for bystanders. They arrived and sat down, their court was at the far wall of the immense structure, the ceiling high and the interior bustling with about two hundred other people. Anthony wiped his face with his arm, his body was sheened in a fresh layer of uncomfortable sweat, the black t-shirt and black and white basketball shorts he wore matching his black, purpose made court shoes.

“I’m gonna be honest with you man, you seem a little out of it…You uh, you cool?” Kyle asked giving voice to his concern, sounding genuinely worried and no longer messing around.

“Yeah, yeah man I’m fine, thanks,” he lied, hoping sincerely that Kyle failed to notice his fib and that if he didn’t, he wouldn’t press him on the matter despite it. If he knew what was really going on, he’d probably think he was completely insane, but worse yet, if he learned the truth of everything, and Mira caught wind of something like that…

“Yeah man, I just had a really long night, bro that’s all.”

Kyle searched Anthony’s face for any hint of doubt or disingenuous tells, it was clear he didn’t buy his friend’s answer, but he stared at him for a hesitant moment just before nodding and making a content face of acceptance.

“Well good, now that that’s out of the way, I would like to point out something to you muh-man.”

Anthony ruffled his brows confused and was taken briefly aback. Kyle in response nodded up to his friend’s right flank, atop the rows of seating a long way up the bleacher stands. The taller boy turned around and noticed, up at the very top row, sitting without a care in the world and writing something in her notebook, was Mira. She was dressed oddly similar to Anthony, a black shirt with a black bomber jacket and baggy black sweat pants.

Anthony turned back around to face the court trying to hide his discomfort from Kyle, something told him however that he was not successful in doing so.

“Yeah, and I’m sure it has nothing to do, whatsoever, with her,” he says if mocking the fact Anthony had tried to pass a lie off on him.

“She’s been taking looks at you all night,” Kyle says leaning over slightly in a hush as the pair of them look face front, trying to act natural, “I thought maybe she was looking at someone else, but no, she’s here for you bro.”

They both look over their shoulders again and to where the girl they had seen was sitting, as if on cue, Mira at once looked up and caught their attention as they spied on her. She gave Anthony a small smile and a casual wave, her pen from writing in her notebook still in her hand, wiggling along with it.

Anthony sighed as if struck with dread when she gathered up her notebook and started to descend the stairs, obviously heading over to where the two young men sat talking.

Not sure if Kyle was joking or not, Anthony listened to him try and formulate a plan with him.

“Alright man here we go, how you wanna handle this? Want me to soothe her over a little or you just gonna go for the throat on your own?”

“Kyle,” His friend started nervously, “I’ve never asked you for anything man,”

Kyle cuts in mid-sentence, wearing a face as if he has just been insulted, “Well that’s definitely not true...”

Anthony ignores him and continues unaffected, “But please, for the love of God keep your big mouth shut, alright?”

“Alright, alright man, keep it together, bro,” Kyle says while holding his hands up jokingly in surrender.

Mira arrives before them to Anthony’s right and they remain seated as she starts to talk, her attention directed towards him. There is a noticeably playful sheen to her voice just below the surface of what she says, no doubt enjoying masquerading as one of his normal, human acquaintances in this less than random encounter.

“What’s up Anthony, I’m glad I caught you!” She says genuinely excited, and the man before her internally blushing understanding every sentence she utters is an inside joke between the two of them.

“And this is…?” She says looking to Anthony’s side, over at Kyle, Mira’s prey willing his friend not to give her anything that she could possibly use to hurt him.

“Oh, I’m supposed to keep my big mouth shut,” Kyle says smiling and shrugging at Anthony when he turns to watch for his answer.

“Uh huh, I see,” Mira says with a feline glare at Anthony.

The brown-haired boy cuts in looking back to his new female friend, his voice holding a more direct address, easily interpreted as rude.

“What do you want, Mira?” he says without any drop of pleasantry.

“I really wanted to ask you about the Pysch project we did yesterday, I think we might have gotten something wrong in our answers and I wanted to be sure I got your opinion, got a minute?”

Anthony was nervous about being alone with Mira again, and he was certain this wasn’t a conversation he was going to enjoy at all, but he needed to protect Kyle from her, he would never allow his best friend in life to get any closer to the dark entity standing before them in the gymnasium. Before he could answer though, Kyle spoke up suddenly, apparently not able to contain himself any longer.

“You said your name was Mira?”

She shifts her eyes towards the blonde boy who’d spoken up, keeping her voice light, and deceptively natural, “That’s right.”

“Oh yeah, Anthony talks about you all the time! Said he was dying to hang out with you more the other day! And we’re not doing anything this weekend either!” Kyle lied; he had never even mentioned Mira to him before but now he was clearly trying to cement what he thought was Anthony’s chance at scoring a date or some other romantic exchange. The supreme irony of what Kyle had said though about dying made Anthony slowly turn on him with an angry, frustrated expression, fixing his buddy with a hard look of displeasure.

Clearly agitated with him, Kyle did a double take at Anthony, unsure of why he was glaring at him with an intense, disdainful frown. Anthony made a mental note that if any of this ever managed in some impossible way to come to light, he’d punch Kyle as hard as he could in the face for that second to last comment.

Deciding to relieve Kyle of his opportunity to do something stupid for a second time, Anthony grabbed his phone from the bench and stood up, looking over to Mira who wore a smile.

“I’ll be right back, if not I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says to Kyle before starting to move away.

“Gotta hurry Anty, I have to leave soon,” Mira pressed at him, this time using a nickname for him he had heard from others before, but one that now took on a new, more sinister context with her choosing to employ it, Mira savoring any chance to remind him about his new affliction of her doing.

The pair walked away side by side as Kyle smiled in abject pride, his longtime friend finally coming out of his shell and putting himself out there like he always told him he should.

+ + + +

Mira lead him to a female locker room at the far end of the gym, as they continued to walk briskly, she didn’t say a word. After a minute or so they made it to the secluded changing area, and without anyone seeing, the count of girls in the building was pretty low, and most of them had been nearer to many other changing rooms aside from this one, so, for the most part, they were isolated and could assume they’d remain alone. She turned on him, as they made it into a room without windows and lined with lockers and benches, her temper flaring, coming alive.

“Do you have a death wish or are you just plain stupid,” she basically shouted at Anthony as he halted before her, bracing himself but still caught off guard by her uncharacteristic anger. She pulled out her phone impatiently and held it up at her side so that he could see it, the clock superimposed on its front screensaver reading, “6:58.”

“What did I tell you? At 7PM and 7AM every day you’ll change, it happens in an instant just like the first time, and you thought it was a good idea to be somewhere like here?” She scolded without holding back, venting her frustration and scorn that had evidentially built up over the day.

“If you do something stupid Anthony, we both get screwed,” she pauses, her red-hot temperament sizzling out, but still very much boiling below the surface, her voice lowering back to normal after she regains control of herself.

“You think that after a year you won’t care about me anymore? You think that if you manage to ride this out somehow without my help everything will work out just fine?”

Anthony sighs and sits down on the wooden bench in front of Mira as she berates him, he was truly blind to a portion of the absolute truth, but he could still tell where she was going with this. There was a reason, whatever that thing was that spoke to him from the darkened void in his mind, had given them such a long time limit to work with.

“After a year I doubt you’ll feel the same way you do now, and when you have to admit you still hate me and sentence me to hell for what I did, you won’t make it through unscathed… And if something should happen to you before then…Well, we both know how that goes.”

“Why would you even make it to where it shifts back and forth? Why would you even give someone that chance? I don’t understand, that doesn’t seem like you at all,” Anthony asks looking over at her, confused and just as frustrated with the situation.

Mira sighs guiltily but doesn’t lie to him, regardless of what he’ll think of her for divulging the truth no matter how grim it is.

“It’s the only form of the curse I know,” She began to explain regretfully, “And no one has ever lasted long enough with me for it to matter anyways…I mean look at you, I didn’t even wait a few minutes to… To get to you…” She says over to her last victim, trying for the first time to lessen his predicament with a different choice of words.

“Then again,” she starts up once more, her mood a little lighter. Shifting her weight nervously and pursing her lips, the devious woman says with a tiny smirk, “You were kind of special…”

Anthony is placed off balance by her last remark, looking over at her surprised; he almost can’t believe what she just said, this demonette who has killed him once already, taking sick pleasure in the horrid act as well as his petrified reaction to it. She thought he was special? It was a thought that as he entertained it, he wasn’t sure if he was flattered by it or placed in a position of overwhelming anxiety.

“S-special?” He hesitates, “Special how-“

The young man cries out suddenly, a bombardment of punishing torment assails the inner part of his skull like a sound honed into a dagger’s edge. The weaponized shriek of pain stabs into his brain as his hands immediately grip his head and he falls over to the floor, his eyes squeezed tightly, his teeth gritted so firmly together he feels like they’ll shatter at any moment as the pressure builds. The piercing noise is beyond sharp, and at a volume that he swears has burst every part of his eardrums, coming from seemingly nowhere it destroys utterly his ability to control his body. He rolls from one side to the other, gasping out a shuddering, weak groan of anguish.

The sudden sonic attack ceases, the whole bout of the agonizing audio beating him down for only an instant as Mira had previously promised it would. Anthony coughs and lets out a drawn lengthy groan; he clutches now his stomach as if he’s been punched square in the gut, both his arms holding his midriff tightly in an attempt to dull the pain. The man rolls up propping his body on one hand, his other still applied to the area around his intestines. Raising his free hand and reaching out for the bench he had just been sitting on, it falls down through empty air as the lack of an anticipated solid object sends the human stumbling back to the cold grey concrete of the floor.

Anthony feels the ground begin to shake, the earthquakes sending a vibration through his bones as if a passing armored vehicle was destroying a paved residential street it was never meant to traverse. If he had been standing, the footsteps of the approaching demonette may have sent him to the ground with the force of her casual stride, but he was still seated thankfully, rising again from his side and holding himself achingly up on both his hands, resting on them as they pushed his palms flat behind his back.

Mira looks down at him far below, the boy the size of a dime again, not able to contain a smile as she resists the urge to crush him like an insect for the second time in as many days, the impulse screaming in her heart, baying for his annihilation once again.

The woman glances up and casts her vision left and right, making certain they are indeed still very much alone, as she brings her eyes back down to him, she can just make out the pathetic human having struggled up to the seated position.

Anthony held himself up panting liked he’d just finished a marathon. His eyes opened revealing his stature had indeed altered dramatically as he had been warned it would, though he was much less shocked this time around, and only briefly had to shake off his surprise. The ant-sized man tasted blood in his mouth, as he craned his neck, fully expecting and seeing Mira standing over him, his diminutive outline sitting directly in between her laced up tennis. Her eyes pinned him to the floor as if physically holding him in place, the brown shining globes promising that not only could he never get away no matter how hard he tried, but that they enjoyed the fact that he and Mira both knew the result of such a pathetic attempt to be absolute suicide.

The tiny man gave her a resentful frown and looked away, curling his tongue and spitting out a half mouthful of sticky blood defiantly after licking his lips, a thin trail of saliva stringing down along with it. He was scared to be at the mercy of her dark whims again, but he was confident that her sense of self-preservation would keep her in check.

He sighed, the whole thing was more than just the realization of a nightmare he reflected, he really was changed in more ways than just the obvious since he had come to know Mira. She looked down at him and rolled her eyes, tolerating his stubborn and rebellious nature towards the situation. Turning around in the air above him, taking special care not to accidentally step on him, she sat her taut, firm posterior onto the bench as he heard it groan under accepting her weight.

Anthony knew she was looking down at him without even checking, he knew she took immense pleasure in enjoying how hopelessly insignificant he was compared to her. His life, as had been proven already, could be ended by her with the same amount of regard for his existence that she gave dust on the ground. Mira places one elbow on each knee as she sits hunched over, taking her left hand and placing it across her lap and against her other arm. Moving her opposite free hand up to her chin, she rests her head angled downwards on the back of her grouped fingers, silently peering to the floor, thinking of what to make of him.

Mira hadn’t lied before, Anthony was different. She’d met him genuinely enough, by chance after he’d not gotten the details of an assignment one day in class and later asking her about it. He was a little shy, but he was sweet, and she could see the small flame in his heart that powered an as of yet, ungauged measure of strength. She knew he was having a difficult time with all of this, and frankly, she was too. It was hard knowing that every moment of your life would now be changed because of a circumstance that occurred in the blink of an eye. Though as Mira looked down at him, the little pest running one of his hands through his short, dark hair, she understood he, unlike her, was never given a choice and never got the chance to avoid his current fate.

Without hesitation, of course having done this a great many times in the past, though this time with a specific intention to not inflict bodily injury, Mira took the hand that was under her chin and reached down with a look of indifference, focusing her eyes on the tiny target that was her pet classmate. Anthony gasped but didn’t even have time to panic as the well-manicured fingers of the woman’s clean hand plucked him up and off of the surface he sat on. He was hoisted into the air with impossible speed, but with an almost dismissive boredom from the perspective of Mira, the demonette bringing him up to her face equal with her eyes that focused on his struggling body. She toyed with him in between her black-tipped, polished digits, she liked how he wriggled around as if trying to escape her incalculable power, the futility of such a thought tickling her wicked soul, but she wasn’t smiling, she was thinking. As she danced her thumb, index, and middle fingers slowly about his tiny body, hearing his rasping, concerning voice fearful and spiked with terror, she delicately played with his life, reminding herself not to apply much more pressure or she would accidentally turn some of his bones to splintered fragments and powder.

Curiously, he seemed to be afraid of something Mira hadn’t noticed at first. As she held him to her eyes, inspecting him, she expected him to look upon her with terror and possibly even plead for his life like many others had before him, but she could glimpse his own attention more drawn to something below him, and with a deliciously cruel realization, she understood what it was.

“Wait a second… Are you afraid of heights, little Anty?” Each of her words coated with a mock form of sympathy brought to a whisper. The woman felt him slightly increase his trembling at the question, probably horrified at the fact she had discovered a weakness of his that could only add to his growing misery. She saw him force shut his eyes, his hands and arms shuddering, pathetically clung around one of her fingers.

She brought him in close, frighteningly close to the gaping abyss that was her mouth as she spoke a single word, one that as it barely broke her lips, the tiniest whisper of a promise that blew out a rush of air from the tongue that flicked it out, brought a sense of dread to his microscopic heart that he could never begin to describe. With the quiet hushed voice as if from a lover, she says to her tiny prey under her breath, her eyes narrowing and her smirk returning, relishing in the planned events to come,

“Good.”

+ + + +

Some things in life can be learned through experience, events encountered personally at times require people to employ every manner of whit and all parts of character available to them at their disposal to overcome some obstacles, but the situation Mira and Anthony were in was unlike any either ever thought possible. Other things can be learned through practice, such as cooking for example, trying again and again over the course of months, years, or even decades to hone to perfection the skill of creating culinary masterpieces, but Mira didn’t have months, and especially not years. She however fervently believed that the most important lessons and skills in life were taught through fear and at times, pain. A child touching their hand to a hot electric stove burner may lose their fingers, but they will learn, and it can be guaranteed that afterward they will come to respect and fear the possibility of what the searing iron plates could do to them in future. Moreover, it just so happened, that fear and pain were Mira’s preferred options, given most, but specifically this particular situation involving a shrunken human.

The pair had made it back to Mira’s apartment a half hour ago, the cool chill of the night now kept at bay by the cozy warmth of the running interior heater. The gorgeous half demon girl sat in one of her dining chairs, bedecked in her typical relaxed outfit of a plain black tank top and soft blue cotton shorts, her bare feet propped up on the table, one ankle over the other as she clicked buttons on her phone, lit up and keeping her attention. There was a soda bottle standing alone in the center of the table, a name brand source of caffeine that Mira had consumed earlier in the day, but it wasn’t filled with soda anymore, she had fished it out of her recyclables, sorting through the plastic containers looking for the tallest one, and filled it instead with water…For ballast.

Standing atop the cap of the bottle, his forehead sweating due to his nerves capitulating, was the lone figure of Anthony, breathing hard and trying with all his willpower not to open his eyes and look down. Mira had her body angled at forty-five degrees to the table edge, her legs extended out before her with the resting, lower half of her body pointed away. Anthony wasn’t in reality very far from the surface of the table, but his fear of heights was complete, and the distance didn’t really seem to matter that much, though Mira reflected it must look like at least 80-100 feet high from his point of view.

“Mira…” Anthony began shakily, his breathing abnormally erratic, “Can you please, please, put me down somewhere…?”

The girl poking boxes and windows on the flat glass of her smartphone didn’t look up or even acknowledge his pleas.

Anthony was really starting to come undone now though, it was one thing to be threatened with pain, death, or any other manner of cruel punishment, but to be placed against one of your most mortal, primal fears was just that much more intense and effective when used against you.

“Mira…” He echoed out again, this time exerting his courage to push open his eyes, looking over to his handler’s own pair of brown, brilliant orbs, as she rolled some of her hair through her fingertips lazily.

“Please, seriously, I can’t... I can't take much more of this…” He was practically begging now, but resorting to this state of surrender without any hint that it would be enough to get her to intervene. The poor young man had been shaking ever since she had carefully stood him in the middle of the not entirely flat red cap, it was slightly wider around than he was tall, which left him virtually no room to sit, lay, or move without coming terrifyingly close to the edge.

Mira halted typing on her phone, as well as instantly ceasing the casual rolling of her hair. She glanced over without moving her head to face him, making a point to look dissatisfied with his overall performance thus far.

She fixed him hard with her stare, those eyes he’d come to know all too well over the last hectic days. Anthony wasn’t sure of a lot of things about Mira, most things in fact, but he knew with certainty that was almost engrained into his DNA that she was, despite her immediate appearance, a predator, a killer. Mira was truly something that as far as the layers of the fledgling human food chain were concerned, she knew she was at the top of.

Mercifully, she looked away and replied with her usual calm,

“You’ve only been up there for nine minutes, you haven’t learned a thing. Once I’m convinced you’re not going to do anything stupid again, we’ll see.”

Anthony exhales the remainder of his diminishing hope, holding out his arms awkwardly at his sides keeping a solid, nervous balance, despite not needing to, being on relatively even footing. Mira hears him sigh as she looks over again and takes a sneaking peak at his crumbling demeanor; she smiles at him as he maintains his closed, hidden gaze, oblivious to her silent, curious examination of him.

Placing her phone after locking it onto the far side of the black table, she brings her legs and feet down and carefully leans her body on the cool wooden surface, her arms tucked beneath her chest now carelessly on display before the bottle and its prisoner. Her hair drapes down over her face as well as the bulging curves of her double D sized breasts. Anthony felt her move to sit before him, leaning on the table, and as he senses the area around him covered in the shadow of the monstrously large vixen. He allows his eyelids to part once more, momentarily forgetting he was being tortured as soon as they did so, the fact that her obviously appealing chest was now deliberately provided for him to notice, completely filling his view with its magnificence. The small human was dumbstruck for a short instant, gazing at the perfect curves she was blessed with, the smooth, unblemished Caucasian skin glowing and healthy.

Forgetting himself, Anthony quickly shifted his eyes upwards and towards where Mira was staring down at him, her enormous eyes watching him enjoy for a brief time her alluring female assets. She had the tip of one of her index fingers not quite in her mouth, but toying with the tip of one of her lower canine teeth as if testing its sharpness. The pair both knew he’d been caught ogling, and they each responded very differently to the fact. Anthony blushed and opened his mouth as if about to make excuses, not able to find speech however as he stammered awkwardly. Mira though, she smiled from the side of her mouth that her fingernail was nearest, brandishing her teeth as she bounced her eyebrows teasingly twice in quick succession as if silently asking, “like what you see?” Anthony swallowed hard and looked away, shaking his head as if trying to physically banish the thoughts wafting around his mind, Mira, of course, kept her eyes on him smiling at his cute attempts to ignore her obvious attractive figure she was tempting him with.

“What?” The man said rubbing his face.

The girl looming over him shrugged, and lowly whispered down to him; keeping in mind the breath from her speech might accidentally push him off balance if she didn’t.

“Just giving you a little break, that’s all.”

“How sweet of you,” Anthony murmured, his sarcasm on show for all to see.

Mira could tell he was trying with all his reserves of discipline and respect not to look over at her and encourage his base male instincts. She liked that, not that he was able to manage it for this short amount of time, but that he fully intended to try. The demonette was finding she enjoyed him regardless at what size he regularly took, he was, in fact, cute, and she was coming to see he had many more qualities to him that were desirable...possibly…even to…

“I’m gonna go have a shower,” she says suddenly, changing the subject and instantly drawing his attention, “I usually take long, hot ones…but after I get back,” she says now while standing to her alarmingly huge, full height, her body towering up straight and powerful, “We’ll talk, O.K.?”

Anthony looks up at her, the girl’s mood is…almost light, as if she’s for once nothing more than what he sees before him, an attractive, relaxed, human woman of about his age. She turns and takes one heavy step, her footfall echoing out as the sole of her foot impacts the floor. The man on the bottle cap calls out to her just as she faces away.

“Mira!” He shouts out to her, nervous but loud enough to get her to pivot around, some strands of her gorgeous brown hair drooping over her right eye as she gives him his opportunity to address her looking down at him. He clears his throat and gathers his courage as he says in a low, sincere voice,

“I’m…I’m sorry…About earlier I mean.”

She’s still looking at him quietly as she allows him to continue, knowing full well he’s putting himself into a vulnerable position, something he hasn’t done for her before. He shakes his head trying to formulate his thoughts, finally understanding what she was risking by keeping him safe and what he was irresponsibly doing that kept that job from being easy.

“I just… This is hard for me, you know? I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking of what could happen to you tonight. And… And I’m really sorry about what I said this morning to you… I was angry and pretty upset,” he says up to her, trying to look at her as wholehearted and honest as possible.

Mira contemplated this admission for a few seconds as they looked at one another, she of all people should really be the one apologizing, and she knew Anthony probably correctly felt the same way as well. Here he was though, apologizing to her despite that, feeling bad that his disregard for his own safety would have affected her had something inevitably happened to him, though that had been ultimately avoided.

The half-demon smiled to him and for the first time since they’d met, it was not laced with an underlying intent of malice or debased cruelty. Her heart warmed with a tiny flicker of flame, small even when compared to the tiny human who had caused it to exist, but she felt it and she enjoyed the way it spoke to her without words, whispering a promising it could grow if only she allowed it.

Anthony could see her apparently accept his apology, her mouth producing a wondrous response as the man too smiled along with her. He saw her chest heave as she took in and released a sigh,

“I think I’ll take a bath instead,” She says with a whisper, still happily wearing her little grin, “that always takes a lot longer than a shower…”

Anthony chuckles relieved at how the apology went as she takes one last look at him and turns back, walking away, her footsteps thudding with rhythmic retorts as she stomps casually away heedless of what may be on the floor. He watched her, no longer trying to look away or hide it. She was something else, what entirely that was he hadn’t decided just yet, but as he lost sight of her rounding the corner to the hallway, remembering at once he was uncomfortably high in the air, he knew there was something about her he’d always been attracted to.

The young insect-sized human standing on the bottle cap looked down and around facing his predicament once again, he thought out loud as the reality of what Mira had said before leaving sunk into his mind. Nodding to himself and sighing, but fully content with his actions despite them resulting in his lengthened sentence, he confirms with himself,

“Worth it.”

Anthony could worryingly feel his stomach starting to lose its composure, his fleeting ability to tolerate the overpowering sense of fear was thinning out now, building unease hampering his body, bringing him to almost nausea. He looked over again at the height he was placed at, the red of the bottle cap ended abruptly no matter where he dares let his eyes wander. He had been face to face with death at the prospect of losing his balance for the past hour now, and it was by far the hardest thing he had done in the entirety of his short life. Each moment that came and went seemed like an eternity, but he shut his mind down as best he could, steeling his jittery body each time he felt it coming loose with rolling discomfort.

Anthony tried to focus, tried anything he could to get his mind off the petrifying heights. The thoughts of the perspiring young man for some reason always seemed to drift back to Mira, the curious inhuman girl that he’d recently intertwined fates with. Ignoring his obvious attraction to her physical appearance, he found that the more he spent time with her, the more he felt an odd spark of something unnatural in his heart, something not unlike a small crush developing for the half-demon, though he practically swore beneath his breath he’d never use that word again to describe anything positive.

It’s always interesting to reflect how things would change after someone found themselves thinking about another in a possibly romantic way. Words, places, simple things like songs or movies, everything took on a different light when one became attracted to another. Anthony remembered his first girlfriend, a couple of years ago, had a special love for vegetables, especially corn, and never again after being with her could he walk through the canned food aisle or the open garden area of the grocery store without thinking of her. Life in all its small details changed in a manner that was difficult to describe, and even less easy to understand.

The first relationship he’d found had not been anything of serious note, though they had been together for almost two years. It was really a match made out necessity rather than actual attraction. They’d met shortly before homecoming in their sophomore year of high school, dated a few times, then gotten together after a sexual encounter that had quite honesty move a lot faster than Anthony had been comfortable with. She was nice, her name had been Kristen he recalled, and she had been pretty without question, but as Anthony reflected, still failing to lose his touch with reality in the face of a sheer drop and sudden stop, knew he hadn’t really loved her. The short high school fling had been, however, the only real relationship he had ever actually been in, and though it was imperfect with many basic flaws, and he didn’t miss it, he hadn’t regretted it either. It was his only real source of experience in the understanding of attraction, and without a doubt, it had been one of exclusively physical connection.

Anthony’s thoughts fell back again to Mira, he couldn’t begin to understand why he was thinking about her the way he was, but he knew in a way it didn’t matter because he did not try and stop himself. The perilously placed college boy hadn’t felt the same way about Kirsten as he did about Mira, that much was absolutely certain. She was gorgeous, stunning to be truthful, and it was obvious she’d dealt with men a lot in her macabre adventures over an uncertain amount of time, but he was more tantalized with her personality and uniquely dominant character. He wondered if she had a boyfriend or indeed if she’d ever had one, as ridiculous as a thought that was, he still inexplicably couldn’t help but hope she didn’t. Anthony knew it would be hard to hide a secret as large as she had from someone like that, and even more grimly true, he felt in his bones that she couldn’t even manage to keep a poor sod in tow for that long without wanting to eat him or do something equally terrifying to satisfy her unpleasant cravings. Another thought began to slither through the back of the tiny man’s mind as he finally daydreamt about his beautiful new friend, a confusing question that he himself didn’t understand the purpose of, and even less so, the feeling the answer might give him should it be brought to light.

Mira came down the hall in distant echoes as Anthony glanced up, jarred from his innermost feelings and conscience and pulled back into reality with surprised eyes as if woken from a dream. She looked over towards where she knew the bottle was and her eyes quickly found him as she let a new smile creep to her lips. Her hair was still wet and gathered behind her ears, laying behind her back tucked beneath her tank that she had been wearing previously. She also seemed to have put on the same blue cotton shorts as before, and with quiet reflection, Anthony found that she was so relaxed around him that she did not appear to care what he thought of her and her choice to wear the same outfit twice in the same night.

She made it to the side of the table and let her eyes take in his still nervously standing, minuscule figure. Mira put her hands on her hips as she said down to him,

“I’m glad you haven’t died yet.”

“Why? Because If I did something would happen to you? Or because you’re starting to like me as company?”

Anthony questioned himself as to why he had suddenly decided to test the waters between the pair of them with that comment; he had to almost shout inside his own mind that this woman had killed him only a day ago, a shout that his stupid young heart chose to ignore.

Mira raises her eyes with a sigh and casts her gaze around the ceiling, emphasizing to him that she’s contemplating her reply. Anthony is for some reason the most nervous he’s been in her company in anticipation of the girl’s answer. She, of course, knows the truth of the reason behind her observation of his well-being. While she was in the tub, cheekily taking a longer time than usual to soak, she was honestly a little worried about him. Mira was scared that he would fall and injure himself or almost certainly die if he lost his footing, but she had to make sure he was kept in check and deterred from further incidents of irresponsible disregard for the circumstances of their ordeal. He also needed to understand who was in charge, and not because it was important to the situation, though at one point that could be useful, but because Mira liked it that way.

“Because if you wound up a little splatter on my table I would be doomed to a fate worse than death, of course,” she said with a spike of mock sympathy, though if it intended for herself or Anthony was not completely clear. She saw his mood change with his candle-light of hope suddenly ruffled, the same small flame that Mira could still feel flickering in her own thumping heart. She decided immediately as the words left her lips that she didn’t want his to burn out, so she quickly tried to stoke it. She did in all honestly love to play with him, in just about every way possible, his emotions that were as fragile as his tiny body included, but just like his frail bones, she didn’t want to crush them utterly, only take pleasure in toying with them.

“But I’m glad you’re alright, without you I’d have nothing left to play with,” she says looking back down at him with a smile and leaning over to him but not taking a seat, her glorious chest dangling its pair of slightly glistening pale mountains.

“So, are we going to talk about something,” Anthony says with a hint of a nervous quiver.

“Why, because you think it’ll get you down from there,” she responds seeing through his very ill-hidden intent.

“Well, yeah, that and I was actually interested in talking.”

Mira raises her eyebrow and chooses a sarcastic flattered tone that comes out as a whisper, and while she can’t help but smile a genuine grin at his desire to hang out with her, she adds on a gasp to help hide that before saying,

“You wanted to talk to me? Really?” She can see him roll his eyes and smile at her reply, which softens her a bit in turn, the pair both enjoying her humor.

“Tell you what, if you get me down from here I’ll talk to you all night if that’s what you want.”

It was actually what Mira wanted, but she wasn’t about to admit that, she much rather he work for it.

Mira didn’t answer and instead brought one of her massive hands around the back of the bottle, Anthony of course taking notice and watching her cup her digits together just behind the sheer cliff of plastic. Her hand was about halfway down the length of the soda container, but to the insect sized-man, it was easily too far of a drop for comfort.

Anthony jerked his head back over in disbelief to where Mira hovered in front of him, she was wearing that smirk again and had her eyes narrowed as if she was about to do something naughty, the same look she’d given him just before she had killed with her foot the night previously.

With a smack of realization that nearly sent him over the edge on its own, Anthony connected the obvious dots as his eyes widened an instant before he panicked and stuttered out,

“M-Mira, no!”

As if to tease his memory with the incident of his death, she chewed on her lower lip and gave him a wink, tasting the moment of his rising alarm for an act she had absolute control over, and that he was powerless to prevent.

“No no no no no!” Anthony said in rapid succession, louder and much more alarmed as he rose his hands holding them out in front of his torso shaking them desperately, trying to keep her inevitable push from coming.

He was not successful, however, and Mira puckered her lips as if about to blow him a kiss, but instead of something like that, a form of expressing one's infatuation, she effortlessly forced out a focused blast of air from her mouth that sent him falling backward off the bottle cap. She heard his low scream as he fell down and towards her cupped hand, his voice when he spoke wasn’t squeaky like in TV shows or movies where someone shrank, he was just not as loud as normal, his shout of sheer terror though was actually pretty easy to hear and she grinned as she watching him plummet.

Anthony landed neatly after his fall into the side of Mira’s soft hand, her skin warm and full of youthful vibrancy, he tumbled, side over side for a few turns as he came to rest on his back in the center of her palm. Mira was looking down at him with her smile, as Anthony opened his eyes and they were caught in her own stare, she let out a small laugh accompanied by her shining rows of teeth. The small boy in her hand let out a groan and put his hands on his face, exhaling deeply as he lay without trying to stand. He was mumbling something to himself and rolling around slightly back in forth as if to be certain he was safe from the pull of gravity.

“What was that?” Mira says with her grin, not trying in the least to hide it at all.

“You’re…” He tried to start for the first time and trailed off, Mira waiting to hear what he had to say, “You’ll… You’ll be the death of me one day.”

Mira brought him up to her face as she stood back up to her full height, towering to an altitude far higher than the table had been before, she whispered to him as he sat up with his hands flat behind him,

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t love it…” Mira says, anticipating Anthony’s loud rebuttal as he barks out a response that only makes her smile more and giggle a second time.

+ + + +

Anthony poked buttons on his phone and read posts on social media as his enormous owner stood comparative miles away, humming to herself as she washed some dishes in the sink across the kitchen. It was a not to his understanding why his phone and anything on his person seemed to alter its size when he changed back and forth, but he just didn’t care to wonder and was just thankful for the fact things did. The man had been browsing around for a few minutes anxiously, just previously he’d run across Mira’s personal profile and was keeping it in a tab below a few other, less important sites, nervous about actually clicking on the blue button with white text reading, “Send Friend Request.”

There was a bottle cap behind him that he was standing leaned against, the same red cap in fact that had come from the bottle he’d been perched upon a few minutes ago. It was now overturned and filled with water for him to drink, issued to him by Mira before she went about her cleaning leaving him to wait on the table. He was hovering over the button now, pulling the tab up as if to finally face it, trying to build up his courage as he glanced over towards Mira, beautiful as always and scrubbing plates without a care in the world.

“What’s the matter?” a voice came like barely control thunder, a cacophony of voices in not quite perfect harmony, vibrating like an aftershock from beside where Anthony stood.

The young man jumped up, completely surprised, but when he saw who it was, the yellow-eyed devil with bulging musculature and covered in black tribal tattoos, he wasn’t any more relieved. He hesitated as he held his phone in one hand, standing to his feet and opening his mouth to speak. The man was now his general, miniaturized height, but still around two or three heads taller than he, and as he saw Anthony’s eyes widen, he held up a single index finger to his mouth as the right side of his face split into a savage grin of razor-sharp teeth. Anthony calmed a bit and blinked a few times in surprise, taking a half glance to Mira who had not yet turned around.

In a hushed response, not intending to be dishonest with Mira by speaking with the black demon without her knowing, but finding his curiosity peaked to its highest, he spoke lowly as he had been gestured to do so,

“What do you mean, what’s the matter?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” came the devil as he stalked over, his heavy boots clunking out lowly as he made it to the human’s side, leaning against the bottle cap just as casually, his metal rings of random chainmail and animal tooth fetishes dangling as he did so.

The devil sat and emulated Anthony’s posture, lazily slouching against the plastic of the lid and tilting his head fractionally back while looking down at the young man. It was smiling at him, whatever it was, and he could feel unexplained heat emanating from the figure of the strange, deceptively humanoid being. Anthony leaned back against the cap when he decided this exchange had been something intended to be non-threatening, though unbeknownst to the fragile ant-man, the creature before him had long since needed to employ something as archaic as violence to achieve its incomprehensible goals.

“You mean to assert that you don’t wish to be companions with that one,” the being spoke with a tone and vocabulary that was refined, and it was obvious in its character it carried an intelligence that seemed to transcend the ephemeral. Anthony felt strange by its conflicted nature, it’s appearance was just completely at odds with its overall personality.

“I mean, I do want to be friends with her, but-“

“But what,” it cut in, knowing full well how he would answer but wanting to pull it out of the human anyways, only for the purpose of helping him of course, though he knew wasting time with explaining that would result in lost opportunities for Anthony to learn.

“I’m…I’m just…” Anthony knew what he wanted to say, but even to his closest friends or family he would hesitate to admit the truth, and here this thing was, trying suddenly for some unknown reason to have a conversation with him concerning such a personal topic.

“Scared,” the demon finished for him in a low confession, as if he’s just heard the word for the first time.

Anthony turned to face the man and looked into its yellow eyes, it held a considering demeanor, like it was trying to understand the concept of what fear even was. In the end, he simply nodded and sighed, ashamed to confess he was afraid, even to some devil he’d just met yesterday and didn’t even know the name of.

The thing lets a huge smile break its lips as its tongue came out and licked its teeth silently, it seemed incredibly excited by Anthony’s response to its question, like a child who had just been told a secret that none of the other kids on the playground knew of. It brushed its razor-edged canine teeth with its slippery muscle, then it looked over at Mira as she nonchalantly went about cleaning cups in her hand with a washcloth. Anthony followed its gaze and examined her himself, noting with his gnawing male mind that she was curved entirely to his liking.

The demon looked back to Anthony and when he turned his head the young man followed suit. The barbaric deity stared over at him as his head cocked to one side, as he looked at the boy curiously, wearing his excited smile. He leaned in slowly towards Anthony, and while he was hesitant to do so in turn, the human did as well.

The devil nodded his head over to his right, indicating towards where the beautiful brown-haired woman continued about her chores.

“She likes you, you know…,” it said, as its smile grew even wider.

The young man’s eyes glistened as his face flushed a warm red, his mouth opened to speak but the man across from his held up a finger to silence him.

“She’s afraid, like you are. She’s afraid because she knows you’re unique, special, and the half-breed doesn’t feel like she deserves you.”

A million questions circled Anthony’s mind all at once. It was all together, unconscionable to think that this entire time Mira had actually felt something like he did, it was too good to be true, but he held on to the hope that it wasn’t as the monster was about to keep talking. He eagerly allowed the thing to speak, giving him his complete attention, hoping with each word he uttered that it was the truth and that it was a hint at what could possibly be.

“Mira Lamia is like you, she knows what you are, just as you know what she is. And she fears more than anything else that it will keep you from feeling as she does for you, about her.”

Anthony was speechless. It all made sense when he thought about it, but just couldn’t bring himself to believe it immediately. Truth be told, he had hated her this morning, but as the short time went on, he could feel her tugging his heart closer and closer towards her. Inwardly it had crossed his mind that being part demon, maybe she was seducing him into falling for her to alleviate herself of the pact they both found themselves in, but he didn’t want to entertain that possibility. He felt she was certainly capable of that, and that she may even possess that power, but he wanted to believe there was something inside her that was good, he wanted to, more than anything.

The black one paused and looked on as Anthony turned his head to face Mira, he contemplated in silence what the thing had told him, and as he did so it continued once more.

“Why do you hesitate human, she is to your liking, why not simply tell her?”

Anthony’s face cascaded a bright shade of crimson as he restrained himself from shouting, he stammered at first but then managed to force his voice into the rushed, hushed, semblance of a reply,

“It-… I-… Things aren’t just that easy, man! Who the hell even are you? I’m sitting here getting relationship advice from a fanged demi-god, on a girl I basically just met yesterday, who happens to have already killed me once already in our short time together!”

“Demi-god? “The things picks out from amongst his rabbled response, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, a demi-god. I mean, isn’t that what you are, you can do anything, you seem to read everyone’s minds, what even are you? What’s your name? And why are you even trying to help me?”

The thing appears to have been taken aback at the last question, as if the answer is blatantly obvious.

“Why wouldn’t I try to help you?”

Anthony is plainly confused by his answer, his complete lack of understanding when it came to the devil’s plots and schemes is easy enough to anticipate, and the demon seems to take notice when he reacts with a quizzical face.

“You think because I placed you both in this situation that I want you to fail?”

“Well, I mean, yea. Isn’t that the point?”

The monster in black shakes his head as if disappointed, its mane of thick jet black hair shifting loosely. All this time had already passed and neither of them had caught on yet to what was actually occurring, but he knew, if he had enough patience, that they would eventually discover together.

“You should spend more time with this one,” he said gesturing to Mira with a nod once more, “Have patience, and you’ll both see what I’m trying to show you. And Anthony…”

“Yea,” the young man says looking up to him, the thing for the first time in the conversation having used his actual name.

“It’s O.K. to be afraid. Remember, she is too.”

Anthony nods slowly, understanding, he can’t allow his life to be controlled by his worries or anxiety anymore, especially now given the crazy situation it had just become. He felt in his blood cells that things were very likely to get even more difficult as time went on, the magnitude of the otherworldly test the two young adults had been sealed into assuredly still beyond his full comprehension.

Adjusting his gaze back to Mira as she turns around wiping her hands, a dry towel cleaning them of water and remaining soap, he hurriedly cycles through his phone’s internet tabs and strikes the button sending Mira a friend request, casting aside doubts and planting a seed of nervous anticipation in his stomach. She looks over to him and carelessly tosses the towel away to the counter, taking steps towards the table away from the sink. Anthony glances to his right where the demon had been, the warm air was gone, and when his eyes arrived at the rim of the cap where the thing had sat, he found the source of the heat had vanished too.

Mira sighs and holds out her open hand to Anthony, the fingers and connected palm vast stretching out and away.

“Come on, let’s go sit down somewhere.”

Most of Mira’s body is dry now, though a bit of her hair still shines with damp moisture as Anthony steps into her hand, this time without a moment of hesitation. She smiles down at him and raises him to just below chest level, carrying him at her side as she walks over to the longer couch he slept on the night before. Her footsteps boom and he sways softly as she makes her way to the living room, setting her hand down gently and waiting for him to get off onto the cushion of the green sofa. After her little pet disembarks, Mira sits down on the floor, her back against the other matching sofa, and places her right arm over the couch Anthony is on using it like an armrest.

“So,” she says simply, her low cut tank and casual demeanor comforting the tiny man’s thoughts,

“What would you like to talk about first little Anty?”

It was about 9 PM, and the pair were both wide-awake, Anthony wasn’t sure where to begin though, he had countless questions and curiosities he wanted to ask her about, but he wanted to start light. He wondered if she had work or school, or anything else she was supposed to do tomorrow, so he figured he’d work his way that direction.

“So, do you have any plans tomorrow or do I sort of take up all of your free time?”

Mira leaned back and her eyes narrowed at him, her mood was calm and she seemed to be, if not a little put off, entertained by his first question.

“Well, I don’t have to go to church if that’s what you’re asking,” she says with a smile, as Anthony chuckles.

“No, I guess I more meant do you have a job? Class? Anything like that? I just want to get to know you a little better.”

Mira smiles and crosses one ankle over the other getting more comfortable, she reflects on how innocent and sweet her tiny pet man is, she’s even trying markedly to control herself from seeming too excited as she remains engaged with him despite his social inexperience.

“I do have a job actually, and I don’t have class on the weekends. I’ve almost finished my B.A. in chemistry and I work at Kroggen, as a cashier.”

Anthony can’t conceal a surprised raise of his eyebrow, like he doesn’t believe what he’s hearing. The small human is standing statue still, a little awkwardly as if he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do while the two talk. Mira sees him question her statement that she works at a chain grocery store as a cashier, as he does so she takes her other hand’s fingers and pinches him by the back of his shirt, transporting then plopping him down the short distance away up against her arm that’s on the couch cushion using it for support.

“And why is that odd? Is that not a good enough job?”

“Uh, no! No! I just…I just sorta find it odd that you have a job at all, I mean, now that I know what I do about you,” the tiny man making himself comfortable against her forearm says hurriedly. It’s pretty clear he’s very new to this whole, “female friend,” thing and Mira is finding it adorable that he’s struggling to learn on the fly.

“Well, this place doesn’t pay for itself, and neither does school. Why is it so hard to believe that I have a job and live a pretty normal life?”

“Well,” Anthony begins cautiously but not shying away from the question, “from my perspective it’s just weird I guess, I mean I don’t know you very well, though I’d like to,” he quickly adds, “and we’ve never hung out despite being in the same class.”

“That’s because I never wanted to hang out with you,” Mira says curtly, though when she sees his reaction to the statement she also quickly adds, “but it’s not because you didn’t seem nice or anything.”

Scolding herself internally for being a tad too blunt and not explaining herself, she glances down to the floor and anxiously curls her lower lip, Anthony sees she has something to confess, and he gets nervous at the idea of what that might entail. Mira doesn’t make him wait long though, and she visibly pushes herself to admit,

“I’m just…I’m not good at making friends really…I do have a couple, but only a few, all girls on top of that. I find most guys to be fake and only interested in one thing… The obvious thing...”

“…Oh,” says Anthony, at once understanding, and pricked by a curious pin of territorial spite he’s never felt for anything or anyone before.

“Well, I mean, you are really pretty Mira.”

“Easy there ant-boy, that’s the second time you’ve said that now,” the huge woman says over to him with a smile and raised eyebrow.

Immediately as Mira pierced his eyes with her own Anthony heard the black demon’s words resound within his head, reminding him to be patient, and he concluded to himself that this is what he had meant by that. The girl overhead was by comparison warm with the caressing touch of new emotions as the tiny man sent over a compliment, as she pointed out, for the second time. People had said things about her before, certainly a couple of men, but she enjoyed hearing it come from Anthony much, much more than anyone else. Moreover, she craved it from him, almost needing it like food or water.

Mira watched her shrunken classmate stand and walk casually forward, towards the edge of the cushion but still a comfortable distance from the drop. He seemed much more relaxed now, looking off into the center of the room examining his surroundings, and the woman was internally debating whether now was the best time to bring up a question that had been clawing at her since she first saw he had been brought back to life. Mira knew what was going on with herself as the hours went by and the two spent time together, but she was worried, scared about something that she knew was going to be difficult to talk about, maybe even for months, or years to come. She asked herself if now was a good time, so soon after it had all happened, but continuing on without an answer was proving painful, so she decided it was now or never.

“Anthony,” she breathed out at last, looking away slightly, for the first time not able to meet his eyes as he turned around to regard her.

“Yeah,” his hands were on his hips as he turned, then upon seeing her demeanor, the young man became slightly concerned.

She took a deep breath and drummed her fingers keeping them busy with a nervous jitter.

“Why…” She bit her lip anxiously and finally looked over towards him, forcing herself to face the consequences of her disturbing decisions.

“Why don’t you hate me…?”

Anthony was caught off guard by the question; it was arrow straight, and to the point. The man let his eyes drop and then he searched around the room, trying to formulate a genuine response. He stopped thinking however about what to say, deciding he would just speak his mind’s truest thoughts, and he instead began to organize how he would go about vocalizing it.

He starts after a sigh to release his feelings, being honest, and just to the point as the towering beauty had been when asking about it.

“I did at first,” he continues lowly, “I hated you, more than anything or anyone I’ve ever hated before. I thought to myself, how could someone like her… enjoy such cruelty. How could she have lead me along like that, and use me and throw me away like I was some piece of Kleenex, or something…”

The man trailed off and she saw him quickly wipe one of his eyes with a hand. It was just as hard on him as it was on her, and she was now really feeling the effects of the pent-up guilt. She had done exactly as he had described, she’d used him and casually disposed of his life as if it were nothing to her. There had been a moment, Mira knew she’d felt it, where the last fragment of her humanity had begged her not to hurt him as he stood transfixed in her merciless gaze far below on the floor, completely defenseless. Her soul pleaded with her not to kill him, but she had ignored it, and had taken dark joy in causing his violent demise.

“But, as the night has gone on, I’ve realized that no matter what you feel when you hurt people, or what you felt when you killed me, or what you think you really are on the inside, that it’s not who you are. The truth is, I don’t know why my mind has changed so quickly. Maybe it’s the way you’ve always looked at me,” he says with a chuckle, “even before last night you’ve always had a look in your eyes that I can’t describe, like you know something I don’t, like you’re waiting for me to learn something about you…”

Everything he was saying was inwardly making sense to Mira as she listened apprehensively, she didn’t want to move too quickly, so she just listened and let him for the first time take her emotions and treat them however he chose too as she allowed herself to become vulnerable to him.

“I don’t know,” he said turning and walking a few steps back to her arm, heading towards her enormous, idle hand, “maybe I’m not giving you the best answer…” Anthony pauses and reaches out with his fingers, putting his palm flat against the skin of Mira’s thumb, his minuscule touch registering just barely to her as she resists the urge to cry.

“But, for some reason, I feel like I know you, Mira, there’s something about you that I can see more clearly than maybe even you can… And between you and me,” Anthony says as they pair stare into each other’s eyes, “You’re more than worth saving.”

Mira wants to believe him, in what remains of the good part of her heart. She begins to shake her head slowly disagreeing, he doesn’t know most of the truth yet, and she really needs him to, but Mira knows it can’t all come out at once. Anthony is the first person to ever know even a slight piece of who she really is, and she both loves and painfully regrets that.

“You don’t…” Mira says in a whisper, maintaining the stare, her eyes reddening as they begin to water, “You don’t know what I’ve done,” she says in a mutter, and though she is keeping herself composed well, the words are riveted with pain.

“You’re right, I don’t, and maybe one day you’ll have to tell me, but I do know what you’ve done in the past day. And we’re both alive because of you, aren’t we?” He taps her skin reassuringly as she nods, a tear of salted water dripping from her left eyelid as she glances to the floor again.

“It’s a start, Mira, “he says to her with a small smile, trying to bring up her spirits. Mira is usually so cold, and so menacingly ruthless in everything she does, and while Anthony knows her current mood won’t last, he does everything he can to try and improve it, bringing her back to her normal, merciless self as best as he’s able to manage.

The small man watches her as she wipes her eye, taking a measure of air into her lungs to try and stem the flow of bad emotions and guilt. He turns his hand into a fist, bumping her with it to help her reconstruct her composure by reminding her she isn’t alone. She looks over to him and allows the right half of her mouth to upturn, and as the pair share a quiet moment of recovery together. Anthony wonders if he’ll ever come to regret what he’s doing, making a friend of this monster wrapped in pretty flesh, but he tells himself that if he ever does come to, he’ll try and think of this moment.

As the thoughts reach his mind, the woman who was now reclaiming her calm, typically dark-humored personality, brings over the hand she’d been resting on the sofa over to where he stands. He turns and sees her offer the huge adjacent thumb to him, the nail polished an ominous deep black, and he immediately understands the gesture. The dime-sized boy who was her newest friend walks a few strides over and hugs the side opposite of the nail it with his arms, closing his eyes as he puts his cheek against her skin. Smiling over to him, Mira sinks her head back against the couch she reclined in front of as she too closes her eyes, reflexively bringing her index finger gently over to carefully stroke the tiny human’s shoulders and back. The massive woman had quickly become oddly accustomed to being careful with Anthony since he’d come back to life, and as she massaged his back, she could feel a tiny vibration of pleasure like a purr coming from his chest. She’d never kept one of her victims as a pet, indeed as she had made clear before they rarely lasted any length of time beyond a few minutes, but she was honestly really liking having him around. There was no doubt she loved to play with him, especially still savoring his occasional bout of terror at her expense like a fine wine, and though she knew she’d never kill him again, she wondered to herself how far he’d be comfortable going to help appease her specific interests.

As she plotted a new exciting scheme, hiding it in the back of her mind from her favorite, completely unaware, living toy, she held her fingers together clamping him not uncomfortably within her calculated grasp. She brought him up to her face and saw him stay relatively calm between her thumb and index digits, holding him by the torso, she asked him a casual question that she knew after tonight they’d always consider another inside joke.

“Hungry?” She says with a smile.

“Actually yeah, I haven’t really eaten all day.”

“Good, cus I’m freakin’ starving…” The demonette pauses briefly, “In fact…” her last two words ushering the change of her tone to a low, sensual whisper.

“I could eat anything…or… anyone…,” the frighteningly large girl says, bringing Anthony’s tiny body closer to her mouth and narrowing her eyes at him. As if to exaggerate the not-so-subtle threat she grins and brandishes her pearly white teeth, raising the right side her upper lip in playful imitation of a snarl.

“Yeah, well,” the small young man starts to say nervously, “I’ll be the last thing you ever eat if you try it, Lamia,” he counters with vague confidence. Under more equally proportioned circumstances, Anthony would have found her behavior, and especially her teasing, to be attractive, and insanely enough he did still find it a little cute despite its purpose to unnerve him.

“Lamia?” Mira says with a raised eyebrow and a distasteful sneer, “What, am I one of your “bros” now, pest?”

Immediately put off and his thoughts flung elsewhere, and also admittedly looking for a way out of the prospect of being a snack, he veered her attention away and towards a passing recollection of his, brought up by her use of the slang word commonly used for, “friend.”

“Oh yeah! That reminds me!” he blurts out happily, surprisingly forgetting his fear as she responds to his change of demeanor with a curious look of her own, waiting for what he suddenly wants with such excitement to say,

“You should probably check your phone notifications...”

+ + + +

“You pour your milk into the bowl before your cereal?” Anthony said with an almost shocked disbelief, watching Mira high above pull the half-gallon container up and away, walking back to the refrigerator with it suspended in her hand.

“Yeah, so, what of it?” She said glancing over her shoulder and capping the bottle before replacing it on the glass shelf within the chilly closet.

“You really are inhuman, Mira. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

The woman clad in her casual black tank came back over and as she boomed along, she rolled her eyes before sitting down, retrieving her box of Fruity Loops on the table next to her white bowl. Tipping the cardboard of the sugary cereal over, she poured herself a helping so she could finally eat for the first time today, though it was nearly 9:30 at night. Keeping conscious of her ant-sized friend, Mira eyed Anthony for a moment and asked him a quick question, ignoring his judgment of the order in which she personally preferred to pour each ingredient.

“What’s your favorite color, bug?” she asked while turning her attention back to her puffed multicolored grains.

“Green,” he said informally, fully expecting to receive a green, “O,” shaped treat, “yours?”

She plucked a pair of green circles from her ceramic bowl and set them down on the table, slightly dripping with milk in front of Anthony, taking up her huge metal spoon in the same hand and leaning over her late dinner to begin eating.

“Green, “she comments while looking down, before dipping her spoon down and into the bowl for the first time, lifting it back up full of unfortunate Loops headed for her opening mouth. Anthony watches her shovel in a half dozen or so into her eagerly awaiting teeth and tongue, the power of her jaws striking him momentarily with awe as they effortlessly crush the flavored O’s to paste. The small man reflects that everything about Mira, though very pretty and attached to a girl, is at his stature a source of destruction and power that if let free of her restraint, would annihilate his existence with ease.

Anthony glances down and follows Mira's intent, taking a look around his own pair of green, tire-sized Fruity Loops, unsure of how to go about breaking them up and eating. The small man extends a hand and scrapes at the surface, gravel-like shards tearing off, unorderly and falling to the table that is to him, the floor.

With both her elbows on the table, Mira has her phone in her other hand now as she dangles her spoon carelessly over the bowl by the tip of its handle, toying with its weight, she looks over to Anthony as she’s about to check her notifications, seeing him trying to work out how to start eating. She leans her spoon down and over to him, the partially surprised little human taking a step back as she uses the tip of the spoon to chop up the pair of puffed grains, smashing them a few times with very little effort. Now in easier to consume pieces, she raises her spoon back up and goes back to dangling it as her eyes head back to her phone, her finger poking her passcode in to unlock it.

“Can’t even handle cereal and he thinks he can handle being my friend.” She says staring into the rectangle of her glowing screen, her voice teasingly intending to hurt the lone member of her company.

Anthony glares up at Mira as she takes another bite, the crunching and smashing of the cereal grinding and rumbling out with each motion of her jaw. He takes a bite of the destroyed grain himself and says up to her,

“I think I’ve done just fine so far, thank you.”

Mira shifts her eyes down to him as she tries not to laugh at his bruised pride, then she reverts her attention back to the friend request sent by him awaiting approval on her phone, her earlier plot resurfacing into her thoughts. The man to himself assumed that so far, he had done fine, but in truth Mira was happy to have him around, and while she was still unsure of many things, she knew he'd done much better than just, “fine,” at being her friend. She was impressed, truly, but she knew enough about herself to worry, and on top of that she was of course a girl, one of the most dangerous, and also unpredictable of creatures.

“So you think earlier was as bad as it’s gonna get hmm? Ever been with a girl when she’s on her period?”

Anthony started coughing immediately, choking with a sudden reaction at the unorthodox question so abruptly shoved his direction, Mira looked down at him again, this time unable to hide her laugh and smile as his fist involuntarily raises up to his mouth. He beat at his chest with it after air returned in his throat, trying to dislodge a chuck of tasty cereal as he choked on a reply just as much as his food.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

The man cleared the crunchy impediment and said out and up to her, his voice recovering in a rasp,

“Can’t be that bad, I mean, not when I’m regular size anyways…”

She looks down at him with a smirk of utter disagreement, as if she’s pleased with his reply, but totally aware that he’d be in way over his head, so far in fact, his optimism is hilarious. The pair of them laugh and she takes another bite, filling her gaping maw with more sweetened O’s.

Mira chomps and considers the request she's holding in her hand, taking note of Anthony's profile picture and how he looks rather attractive in the outfit he'd worn in the selfie, it was a simple white long sleeve button down shirt, the sleeves purposely rolled up to accentuate a particular style that she found appealing. He had added the compliment of a red bow tie and matching red suspenders, the choice of accessories making him reminiscent of a 60's or 70's barber, and in the apparent theme his actual hairstyle was that of a cleanly shaped fohawk, which completed his attire well. She looked dreamily at his picture for a moment, knowing the man before her was down on her table and unable to understand she was essentially checking him out. Mira really liked his smile, vibrant, full of light and happiness, it was something that in men was hard to find, and she wondered if one day she could make the stud who wore it her own.

That all of course, would require steps, some baby sized and others leaps of faith, one of which was still awaiting her thumb to approve it, but she couldn't resist using the proposal of friendship to have a little fun.

“Tell you what,” she says in between chews, “I’ll accept this request, if you manage to beat me at a game…”

Anthony’s interest as well as his discomfort perks up sharply, he has no doubt that this sort of thing is what Mira lives for, predicting it was a game involving their incredible difference in size, and it was definitely no coincidence that she’d offered it in return for the opportunity to, “officially,” be her friend.

The tiny human stands up straight and swallows his mouthful of food, cleaning his hands then crossing his arms and regarding her for a minute. Her eyes were staring him down, her face wearing a devious smile that was daring him to accept. He know this was almost what could be interpreted as a trap, and though he feels like the game is more of a formality than an actual prerequisite to becoming friends, he knows of course she intends to make it unfair, in any way she can.

Anthony ruffles his lips and licks his mouth, finally at last saying,

“Fine, you’re on,” he says with a confident nod, then adding, “but no crying when I win. When you lose, you accept the request, no funny business.”

Mira held up her spoon in between her thumb and index finger as she straightened the rest of her digits in imitation of a courtroom pledge not to lie.

“You manage to win, we can be friends, I swear.”

Anthony thinks for only a second, then nods and flexes his shoulders back and stretches his arms, preparing himself for something he’s sure will test him in a way he’s never been tested before.

“Alright, fine, deal. What did you have in mind, Lamia?” He could tell she didn’t like to be referred to by her last name, and since he didn’t much appreciate being called bug, or insect all the time, he let her know it by calling her something more formal that she disliked.

Mira begins shaking her head at his tiny spark of bold acceptance, “You’re either the bravest, or stupidest boy I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“Maybe I’m a little of both,” he said to himself as much as he said to the hungry girl looming overhead, “but,” he says with a brief pause, holding up a finger, and allowing his own smirk to confidently break his mouth, “I’m almost a friend of yours, who also happens to be a boy.”

Mira is silent as she licks her lips contemplating what he’s just said, the little flicker of fire in her chest giggling along with her subconscious. God she just wanted to eat him, she wasn’t sure if it was because he was awesome, or because she wanted to show him she liked him the only way she knew how, in her own violent form of affection.

“Tell me, snack,” Mira says in a sensual whisper, the one she loves to take on when talking to her pet, “do you know how to swim?”

Anthony could see now where this was going immediately, and he wasn’t too surprised. He could swim, pretty well in fact, and he figured this would be something he could conceivably achieve victory in given that particular skill of his. The young man’s pulse starts to quicken at the anticipation of a coming struggle, he's scared, his body is pumping adrenaline into his blood, but he's starting to really enjoy this feeling Mira gives him when she abuses her power over his life.

“Would it matter if I couldn’t?” he asks, with a low murmur and a smile up to her, knowing full well how she’ll answer.

“Not for a second,” she promises darkly under her breath, smiling down, her lips splitting as she licks her right incisor with deliberate slowness out of pleasurable anticipation.

Without explaining anything further, Mira puts down her phone with the ultimate prize of digital friendship waiting patiently on its screen, a distant thud echoing out as she, with barely contained excitement, plucks Anthony by the shirt between her fingers. He, thinking quickly, ditches his own phone as well, tossing it hurriedly from his pocket just as the towering demi-goddess hoists him high without pause over to and above the rim of her white bowl. Anthony ignores the height and tries to focus despite everything happening so fast, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the coming physical exertion.

Without ceremony, Mira holds him over a slightly empty part of her cereal and drops him in, watching him splash into the white liquid and going under for a moment as his body embraces the breaking surface tension. Milk gets into Anthony's mouth, and he fails to keep it all out of his nose, the sweet flavored liquid tasting good, but making him choke uncomfortably for an instant as it reaches his lungs and nasal passage. The tiny man pops his head up and out from beneath the calm milk surface, exclaiming out a gasp and shout as his mouth bursts open.

“Oh god! It’s cold! Ho!” he shouts, “Cold! Cold!” He had honestly not thought of that while considering the challenge, and he shook his body trying to combat the shock of the frigid temperature. He paddled mildly keeping himself afloat, the milk feeling noticeably different from pool or even ocean water, he heard Mira laugh and he saw her cover her mouth with one hand as he waded around to face the woman.

“Of course it’s cold, it came from the fridge! Don’t tell me you want to quit already, it’s just milk Anty.”

He coughed a bit and gasped before responding, hoping she couldn’t hear, and then said,

“Never said that I wanted to quit! Just making an observation. It’s not even that bad, and I mean it tastes good, so there’s that.”

Mira smiles at his ability to either feign a complete calm, or actually tolerate his situation, she starts to think of more and more ways she could push him or use him to appease her needs, but she dismisses the thoughts away, excited for the current bout of fun.

“So, the game is simple, all you have to do is be the last thing in the bowl, not counting the milk. Easy right?”

Anthony reflected as he skin felt like it was freezing, that at Mira’s size, combined with the size of her spoon, and with her ability to react frighteningly quicker than him, he was in for quite a task indeed, but as he looked around the bowl he couldn’t see too much more cereal left, so his confidence held firm.

The smiling beauty above watched his body bob and maneuver painfully slow around in her bowl, she loved the way tiny humans made such vulnerable prey in cereal, they had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, and their feeling hopelessness always sent a flick of pleasure through her excited heart.

“By the way,” Mira says with a final point to make, “You never asked what I wanted if I won…”

The floating, inch tall human, internally panics for a moment as his eyes widen a bit, completely caught unaware at the obvious point he’d forgotten to clarify.

“If I win, and believe me, I’m going to try to; you get to make friends with my teeth…” She says with a casual chomp and that fake snarl he wanted to think earlier would have been cute. There is not the single hint of a joke anywhere in the statement, or in the one to follow.

“Anyways, good luck! Try not to die for me!”

As soon as the words finish rolling off her tongue she lifts her spoon and comes after Anthony, the small floating little person an easy target to scoop up even on the first try if she’s quick enough she feels.

Anthony blurts out a curse as the metal of the spoon dips below the surface of the milk, the edge appearing, as he paddles frantically, to contain him within its perimeter. Thinking on his feet, or in this case his back, he rolls over the curve of the utensil as if lifts skyward, a few Fruity Loops captured within a pool of milk.

Anthony beats his arms keeping himself afloat as he glances upwards, watching as Mira nods as though she’s marginally impressed, her eyes still finding him easily as she devours a bite of cereal that could had as easily contained his life. The spoon comes back out from between her lips empty and shining, her eyes still affixed on his position, as she immediately starts moving to dip it down for another bite.

Jarring himself out of his fascination for her seemingly limitless power over the situation, Anthony takes a breath and dives under the surface of her milk. Bubbles, rock-like pieces of cereal, and the strange consistency of the bowls liquid greet him as he dives deep, trying to get under the scoop of Mira's next stroke for a bite. Anthony feels the rush of a sudden current toss him around like a rag doll as the tool for eating swipes just above him, thankfully missing him again and not impacting his comparably fragile body as it passes over. The spoon comes up and out of the bowl with only cereal and calcium enriched liquid as Mira frowns, shoving it into her mouth, actually frustrated she missed him again, and she wasn’t being purposefully easy on him either, the cocky little insect.

Anthony swims around the milk with his eyes closed, it’s obviously not like water and transparent, so he has to maneuver around with sense of sight removed from the equation, something else he hadn't thought of but had quickly learned. Feeling around with his hands, he bumps one of them into a floating circle and finds the empty center hole, slowly breaking the surface of the milk like a crocodile in a river and looking around with his face barely out of the surf within the ring. The hidden human finds Mira up and off to his left, tilting her head around, inspecting a spoonful of cereal that’s raised up to her face, and then irritably pushing it into her mouth, content it too didn’t contain her prey.

There’s only a few rainbow colored O’s left now in the bowl, maybe three or four that he can see, and Anthony starts to resist the urge to plan what he’s going to say after seizing victory from the literal jaws of defeat.

Mira shifts the spoon around and gathers up three of the last four tasty Fruity Loops, the waves and undulation of the milk violent and abrupt to the tiny man in her bowl hiding within the detached yellow loop. She brings them up to her eyes and inspects them as before, conscious of the duel’s terms, and maybe, hopefully, her little opponent's safety.

She shakes her head and rolls her eyes, herself feeling a little defeated it seems, but as she trains her eyes back down at the last bite of puffed grain, she spies Anthony as he ducks beneath it, submerging himself again and trying to get away, attempting to be the last thing remaining in the white sea.

Mira smiles without meaning to, coming to a realization, and dangles the spoon between her fingers lazily; she stops trying to fish him out, and instead reminds herself that she’s the one in complete control, not him. She waits, patiently, narrowing her eyes and looking for the tell-tale sign of the little man poking his head up for air. She’s looking to one side of the bowl, but when she sees him break the milk's surface and gasp out for oxygen, her eyes shoot over and lock onto him in quicker than a heartbeat his alarmed reaction making her giggle.

Anthony gazes up at her and checks around the bowl for more pieces of cereal, finding to his disappointing realization, one still remaining a distance away. He sees her eyes sharp and focused on his floating body, and the both of them glance almost at the same time to the lone island of sugar off to the other side of the female-made lake.

Mira raises her eyebrow as her smile turns to a smirk,

“Almost, but not quite…”

The enormous girl plunges her spoon down and into the milk, though it isn’t angled with the intention to scoop up her tiny friend, she uses it to corral him over to the side of the bowl, cupping him against the hard surface, the metal encompassing his figure and protecting him from what comes next. Anthony isn't in total darkness, but the rounded frame of the utensil surrounds his vision, milk running off of it and back into his vicinity in paths like veins.

Mira reaches over and lifts the box of Fruity Loops, the lid already cracked and the corner still torn open. Knowing full well, and relishing in Anthony’s coming reaction, she pours herself another bowl, still abiding by the game’s rules of not allowing only him to remain left as the victor. Colorful, tiny tires of flavor cascade out as she keeps her minuscule prisoner shielded from the impact of the potentially dangerous, breakfast cereal.

Replacing the box on the table, and satisfied with the level of her reloaded vessel, she tilts the metal utensil down and lifts up a bite she knows contains her opponent, and as she brings the spoon to eye level, she finds that she’s correct.

The curve of the spoon only makes the milky pool about waist deep to Anthony, but as he feels the incalculable strength Mira’s hand and arm effortlessly lift up himself and all his assorted, crunchy friends, he makes sure to stand as best he can, to hopefully be seen and not unintentionally eaten.

Mira spots him in an instant, he’s at the very center of the group of piled, mismatched loops, and she smiles at him widely with her eyes narrowed, making it seem like she has to strain to find him.

“Oh, what’s this?” she says in a low, joking surprise, “Looks like I got a winner with this bite…” She sees the young man wipe off his face sighing heavily and lowering his head and arms onto a loop panting, more recovering from the physical aftermath than he is disappointed with defeat.

Anthony was trying hard to catch his breath and ignoring the fact he was several hundred stories in the air, only held up by Mira’s, less than kind support. He knew from the beginning she’d make it unfair, but for a naïve moment he thought he was actually capable of winning. Strangely, however, he was not that disappointed. He knew what she was, how she was, and he had actually enjoyed the rush of adrenaline at the prospect of being at her mercy. It was, alarmingly, a pretty fun little game they’d just played, though he’d lost count of how many times or ways he could have died, even by accident. For a moment of grim reflection, he thought to himself about the poor victims of hers that were not favored, and in no way, shape, or form, given any mercy even after entertaining Mira successfully. It was a dark thought that he shoved from his mind, that the people she’d killed, especially via this method that she had already said she delightfully preferred, really did face their deaths at the merciless power of her near-insatiable hunger. It was a game just now to the two of them, but for many, it had not been, and Anthony was troubled by how terrifying an experience that assuredly was, furthermore, he had seen how much real enjoyment she’d taken in playing and that was what stayed with him the most. Anything Mira had chosen to previously entertain herself with had been doomed from the start, heartlessly so, despite her devious enjoyment and Anthony couldn't help but sense that bleak emotion in himself.

Anthony cleared his throat and told his own conflicted feelings that she was changing now, that she, with his help, could finally help her get passed all the awful things she had done in life. There was, however, despite what he was feeling, something about her dark side he found dangerously irresistible.

She was waiting for him to respond and as he stood up, still within the boundaries of the spoon and among its cargo, he took a deep breath and said out at last,

“You,” he draws out a moment between words, “Cheated. Missy.” He says with an accusatory point of his finger.

Mira takes note of his newest nickname for her, and it pokes her appealingly in her jittery heart, making it beat fractionally faster at thought of being a tiny bit more special to him, enough to call her a cute name. She brings and holds her other hand to her chest, with an exaggerate gasp and playful look of surprise she responds,

“You think I cheated? Me? Come on Anty, would I do that?”

Anthony sags his shoulders and puts one of his hands beneath his right cheek leaning over the pile of cereal, giving her a look of total disregard for her humor.

Mira pauses and mumbles to herself with a nod, but loud enough for the tiny defeated human to hear,

“Actually, come to think of it, that sounds exactly like me…”

Anthony, still propped up on a fruit flavored loop, rolls his eyes and can't help but find her genuinely funny.

“So, are you going to get me down from here? I’m covered in milk and I have to admit it’s finally getting a little gross.”

Mira heard what he said, sort of anyways, she really registered keenly the fact he was covered in milk flavored like her favorite cereal. At once, for a reason beyond her knowing, something crept into the back of her mind like a whisper. Mira almost swore she felt a new evil thought travel up her spine, and twitch inside her mind, flipping an invisible switch in her soul that she had never truly had any control over. The deeply inhuman side of her had touched her heart and body she realized, beginning to sway the command of her muscles, her train of thought, and most worryingly of all, her desires.

Mira looked at Anthony with hunger in her huge, brown eyes, the razor edge of her stare always retaining the nearly apex predator visage, a look that relished in violence and took near physical pleasure in being superior.

It wasn’t though, it wasn’t just near physical pleasure.

Mira breathed in heavily, taking in the aroma of Anthony’s vulnerability as much as his coating of sweet milky perspiration. The faint odor of fruit and artificial flavors laced with sugar teased her sense of smell, and for the first time, her tongue pushed out as she licked her lips at the thought of his life ending for the purpose of only satisfying her taste buds. Her eyes rolled back as she closed them, sighing with a worryingly primal exhalation that felt to Anthony like it held a deeper, possibly even sexual origination. The small man in the spoon raised an eyebrow as his eyes widened anxiously, he thought he knew for sure that she had no desire to harm him, and though that assumption may in fact still be true, this was a side of her that he, and no one else still alive anyways, had ever seen before. He came to a horrid understanding as she seemed to be overcome with a demeanor that, even despite his time spent with her, was far more unique than anything he’d seen in her before; this was the terrible side of Mira at last manifesting, tempted too far by the company of an insignificant human companion.

“…Mira…” He whispered low to her, climbing over a Fruity Loop slow and cautiously, out to near the edge of the spoon that faced her, putting himself clearly in her vision. He held up his hands, placatingly, as if he were trying to soothe a wild animal like a lion or a tiger, an animal that at this very moment weighed roughly 900 million tons, had a craving for killing tiny humans that was near impossible to satisfy, and now was up to nearly a whole day without fulfilling her urges. Anthony swallowed hard, so hard he felt like his uvula slammed into his stomach, he forced his body however to remain composed, his nerve hardening while he ignored the discomfort of his wet clothes and chilled body.

Mira opened her eyes so suddenly it made the small man flinch; they shot immediately to his own as if they could see through her lids before they parted. Her pupils dilated sharply in a gaze that spoke of overpowering hunger, for the first time Anthony seeing the truth of her partially demonic nature as she smiled with a sadistic grin, a fully displayed set of white teeth that had every single voice in the tiny human’s head shouting at him to run away as fast as it was possible.

Anthony's eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated, honest terror. Something had come over his gorgeous inhuman friend, something like a vicious need to inflict carnage and take life that no one with 23 pairs of chromosomes could ever conceivably begin to understand. Mira had become transfixed on his pathetically small existence, so much so that she had stopped moving in any context except for her low, almost growling, intakes and exhalations of air as the oxygen passed between the locked teeth of her jaws.

With his next breath though, the human who was almost the size of a Fruity Loop forced down his fear like a horse pill, standing up straight and wearing the hard look of a man accustomed to staring into the beautiful eyes of his potential death. He whispered out to her again, trying his absolute best not to provoke or anger this new beast.

“...Mira... Look at me...”

“I am, you fucking insect...” She almost snarled out while she still remained somehow unmoving. Her eyes weren't blinking, and they spoke wordlessly to her desire as they promised within seconds to end Anthony's life. A stab of hurt knifed into the tiny man's heart as she spoke to him so harshly, now almost totally forgetting her previous enjoyment of their short friendship, her desires had been let loose, her truest nature had been unchained and it threatened to literally consume him if he didn't act quickly. He cast his pain aside and focused, he need to calm her, if he didn't, they would both die, and whatever connection had been felt between them would be gone forever.

“Mira!” he shouted this time, as if to a disobedient animal, his voice razor-edged.

“Look at me!” His voice thundered, he brought up all his fury and courage and slammed it against her dark impulses, rising to meet it as if the two emotions were clashing swords in the hands of ancient heroes.

“Don’t do this, don't let it win, Mira!”

Mira saw only red. Something like blood mixed with an almost painful hunger flooded her vision and bayed for agony as she saw the small form of the helpless human trapped in her spoon. She shuddered for a half second as the utensil shifted in her hand, the ant-sized person maintaining his stance despite the tremor. The voices of things unnatural and hateful screamed in her mind, but she heard, as the shadows begged for satisfaction, another call and make an appeal to her heart. It was strong, and proud. Mira's eyes were unflinching, honed on her prey's outline without distraction, but as the urge in her rose ever higher, the need to devour him and taste his suffering as it slid down her throat, she felt a nagging pull at her compassion again, the same she felt only a day before.

Anthony kept up the horrifying staring contest as he battled for the right to Mira's sanity, it was coming apart at the seams before his very eyes, strand by tortuous strand, but he refused to give up on her.

Without prompting and after a very long pause, Mira responded, the compulsion within her seeming to be giving ground.

“But if I kill you, I can make it stop.”

“If you kill me, we both die Mira, you'll kill both of us! That's what it wants!”

She breathed heavier, as if the blood in her veins was beginning to boil and her urge to consume his flesh was becoming too much for her to bear. Anthony could see it in her eyes, he was losing her.

Anthony angrily gritted his teeth as the reality of her words carved an invisible wound across his chest, this disgusting thing that had a hold of this girl he'd found he cared for was plaguing her to the point that she prayed for it to release her. He could see that beneath her wicked demeanor, there was the unmistakable signs of pain. Whatever it was that refused to let go of Mira was hurting her, and he roared wordlessly in defiance as he swore one day he would live to see her smile, truly rid of it.

“Don't let it win, you hear me? Don't you dare let it win, Mira! Fight it!”

Mira, with visible struggle forced her head to look away and her eyes to shut, slowly the lids of both sides of her nose coming together and sealing as her body trembled all around. The demonette's mouth wasn't smiling anymore as she growled with renewed resistance, her nostrils flaring and her hair drooping in front of her face on one side. The spoon was becoming difficult to stand in, but Anthony focused his legs to remain rooted upright, his body solidly erect. He had gotten through just now, she was hearing him and his words gave her the strength to combat the evil within.

Mira raised her other hand and clutched her forehead, covering her left eye as it pushed her fingers through some of her perfect brown hair. She gasped out, trying to regain power over her lungs as she struggled with the non-human part of her body. Her voice groaned out suddenly, the tone coated with a clash of pure emotional battle as she fought with herself to stay in control. Her other eye opened, seizing Anthony's own vision as it did so, and now, instead of murderous joy, it displayed a pain that the human man felt peel away a layer of his heart.

The beautiful young woman stared over to Anthony as a tear rolled out of the same brown orb, she looked to him for love, for support, she prayed for him to make the feeling stop, the gnawing, scraping thirst for violence. With each passing moment that she tried to resist, the pain bit down harder and harder onto her senses, the only thing that gave her comfort as the horror within her soul clawed for purchase, was Anthony staring back at her.

Mira’s new friend refused to abandon her, Anthony was there with her through it all, the thing inside her skull screaming a command beyond any form of language to take his life, promising it would give her a wash of pleasure and satisfaction unlike any other she would ever feel. He willed her with his warm stare to fight it away, to resist the touch of darkness, and travel back to him, back towards the light she always wanted.

Mira grunted out suddenly with an audible force of focused effort, slamming her eye shut and tearing her gaze away from her tiny snack, the spoon he stood trapped in dipping immediately to his surprise and alarm. She hurriedly dropped the utensil that contained her little Anthony and bits of cereal, the metal of the silverware clanging and spilling out its contents, including its human cargo, onto the table beside it. Anthony rolled and landed hard on his shoulder, the rings of sugared grain crashing around him with the echoing of the spoon clanging loudly. The remains of milk, cereal, and other parts of the breakfast meal settled in a scatter as Anthony closed his eyes in pain, the fall on his right shoulder hitting him hard, though he couldn’t be sure how far he’d actually fallen.

Mira stood up without a word and angrily shoved her chair away, the wood of the dining seat booming as it fell over and onto the kitchen tile, tipped off its legs and discarded. The giant woman stormed off and away, not looking back as she marched straight to her room down the hall, both her hands as she walked coming up to her scalp and running their sets of fingers through her hair, trying to alleviate throbbing pain in her head.

Anthony sat up panting holding his aching joint as he pushed himself forward, the pain, the fear, and the scarred part of his compassionate soul all hammering him to a nearly unbearable degree. He caught a glimpse of Mira as she stomped away around the corner to the hallway, the residual effects of her internal conflict shaking away as she at last found herself back in command of her body and mind. He knew she had beaten it, as terrible as the whole ordeal had just been, she’d done it, probably for the first time in her life. He knew she wasn’t mad at him, as she slammed her bedroom door with a heavy throw of the handle, he knew it wasn’t because she was upset at the microscopic man, Anthony instead was certain she was trying to protect him. He knew that all this had been indescribably difficult, for both of them, and though she had managed to fight off the urge to kill him, he could tell she wanted to be completely sure he was safe from her by shutting herself away.

As Anthony breathed erratically, his body being overcome with shock, the new silence of the kitchen now his only company; he leaned over and collapsed onto his back. The man’s eyes stared off to the ceiling as he felt all energy begin to fade from his body, exhaustion seizing his muscles and tested resolve. He’d come close just now, far closer than anyone would ever be comfortable with to Mira’s unfettered wrath, and he had survived to embrace the blissful release of unconsciousness. He wanted to be happy for her, she was able to resist her urges at last, at least just this once if anything else, but he was so tired, she had really worn him out, in many more ways than one.

As Anthony’s eyes faded to black, pushed well passed the limits of his body and finally accepting the sweet caress of physical and mental shut down, he muttered something he wished Mira could somehow hear, a small smile on his face as his lids closed shut,

“Atta-girl.”

+ + + +

Mira locked her door behind her as she slammed the wooden entrance shut, the lock clicking over and ensuring there was a least some form of barrier between her and Anthony that may slow her down should she lose control again soon, or worryingly, in something like her sleep. The beautiful, brown-haired woman in her simple black tank collapsed into her bed and clutched an idle pillow to her face, groaning out loudly without holding back into the soft, clean cover, venting all emotions she had been holding in. She had pushed it too far, she had almost killed poor Anthony just now, someone whom she had begun to care about and even feel a spark of unmistakable passion for.

As Mira shook her head in the conforming cotton of the pillow, she shouted to her subconscious, commanding it to obey her will.

“You won’t hurt him. Not again, never again! I won’t allow it!”

The laying woman took in deep breaths and calmed herself at last, her thoughts coming back to normal and all urges of inhuman pleasure faded away. A tear ran down one of her cheeks as she began to cry, the one person she cared for on this earth was the one she was at risk of losing on a day-to-day basis, and worse yet, it was because of her. She promised herself in that moment, knowing that Anthony meant more to her than anything in her life, that she would protect him from harm, even if it meant protecting him from herself as much as that would pain her to do so.

Mira rolled her head over and looked to the doorway of her room, thinking to herself that she should immediately apologize, rush out there now and beg for his forgiveness at the horrible act of betrayal she had nearly just committed. She didn’t trust herself though, she didn’t want to risk seeing him until morning when he’d changed back to normal, but then, she would tell him how sorry she truly was.

The girl didn’t wipe her salted cheek as she allowed her mind rest at last, the small lamp on her nightstand the only source of illumination in the room, barely lighting it at all. She closed her eyes and tried to dream of Anthony’s smile from his profile picture, hoping, praying that he would be alright in the morning when she went out and gently moved him from the table to the couch like she’d done the night before.

Soreness was the first thing felt by Anthony when he rolled over on the variably soft green cushions of the sofa, the familiar couch welcoming him to another day of turmoil, combined hopefully with excitement. The man was normal size again, and he gripped his right shoulder as he let out a pain-laced groan of morning breath, an uncomfortable yawn shortly accompanying his rise. Anthony rubbed his face as he sat up slowly, looking around the room and not finding Mira to his delayed surprise. He cast his eyes back to the green sofa and found a yellow sticky note stuck to his phone, which sat near the armrest inactive. The young man reached over and took the note from the screen, only one eye open as of yet, the light adhesive giving way without a problem as it peeled off and released the paper.

“Had to go into work early for 6 hours. Get off at 1. Check your phone,” he read to himself without speaking. There was a little drawn heart on the bottom of the note accompanied by Mira’s name written in cursive, the art style clearly female in origin, the black ink of the curved heart and the message’s contents neatly scribed.

Anthony picked up his phone quickly and unlocked the screen, seeing before he did so that he had a few social media notifications, the one, however, sending his heart fluttering into the air was the blue bubble informing him that Mira had accepted his friend request.

She had a very pretty profile picture that the day before he had admired for quite some time prior to sending the friend invite. Her long hair, that was the same shade as his own, was cascading over her cropped out chest, her head cocked slightly to the side with a cute smile and a wink of her left eye accentuating her laid-back personality she typically faked for appearance's sake. There was also, to Anthony’s excitement, a message bubble from her, and he opened it at once to read what secrets it contained within.

“You can help yourself to whatever you want while I’m gone. When you have some free time I wanna talk to you about last night, so I guess this is my way of inviting you over later. I’d rather you came before like 5 so we could have a lot of time to talk, if that’s alright. I’m really sorry about what happened last night, and I hope you’re ok, I just want you to know that.”

Anthony read the words twice over, making sure he’d gotten everything right as he sat on the couch quietly. Mira was sweet deep on the inside, and it hurt him to know she was apparently upset with herself, though as the man thought silently in turn, he knew just about anyone else would be furious with her given the extreme circumstances. He, despite almost dying again, was not though.

She was at work, and he didn’t want to bother her or get her in trouble, but as he looked up at what she had changed her name to in his phone’s messenger app, he couldn’t allow her to remain upset with her actions any longer without at least saying something to try and help her feel better. He plonked small characters of text into the empty bar of a new message as he smiled at the nickname labeling the conversation recipient. There was a puckered lip or kiss emoji before the name, “Mira,” and behind the last letter, there was a small, red heart.

+ + + +

Mira’s phone buzzed and she resisted the temptation to fish it out of her pocket and discover why. She was standing in a canned food aisle at work, replacing odd products that had been returned or moved throughout the previous day, she was trying to keep herself busy as always, impatiently counting down the hours until she could go home and finally be done with her dreadfully boring adult responsibilities.

Mira looked over her shoulder and spied the only customer in the row leaving down around the far corner, the elderly female pay her no attention to her as she rounded out of sight and left the girl in her white uniform and black apron, alone. The young woman quickly grabbed her phone and looked around one last time to be sure she wouldn’t get caught texting again and not working, flicking open the screen and seeing she had a notification and a message from Anthony. Just above her messenger app, the conversation participant labeled with two hearts flanking its letters, “Anty,” showed the pop of a blue bubble.

“Hey its ok, really, and I’m fine thank you. I know it was rough, but try not to think about it ok? I’m glad you’re alright too Mira, and I should be free all day today. :]“

Mira let out a sigh of relief, he was ok, and she thanked silently the black demon, or whoever it was looking out for him, that he was still alive and in one piece. She placed her phone back into her pocket, she wanted to message him back immediately, but she knew she would not be able to stop herself from talking to him all day, and thus get into trouble with her manager. She calmly scooped back up a pair of cans containing peaches and stood on her tiptoes, barely managing to set them up on their intended shelf as she eagerly awaited, with renewed excitement, her last break and the next opportunity to message Anthony again.

+ + + +

Anthony waited for Mira to type something back to him, but after seeing that she’d at least read his reply, he put his phone down and assured himself that she was probably busy. He looked around the room and got up, feeling suddenly an all too disgusting layer of crusted white chips of dried dairy and cereal pieces covering most of his body. He needed a shower, and he needed something to eat, the giant green O’s from last night had satisfied his hunger then, but now it was hours later. Glancing down over at his phone again, he could see that it was just after 8 o’ clock in the morning, and though he didn’t have school or any other plans until tomorrow, he felt he should try and preoccupy himself despite being free of upcoming commitments.

Anthony wiped his face and rubbed his eyes, the unsightly layer of crusted skin and milk flaking unpleasantly off his hands as he did so. Standing up and stretching, he began to walk about the living room, taking for the first time a good look at everything around him. The place was spartan, very simple and without any outlandish decorations, strangely uncharacteristic of what he assumed a girl’s place would look like inside.

The young man made his way around the couch and walked down the hall, finding near the bathroom a small door that could only be a closet. He pulled the simple metal handle and opened it cautiously, hoping it wasn’t something personal or an area of privacy. He found that it contained, to his correct assumption, towels, washcloths, and other supplies for the bathroom. Extracting a black towel, and bringing it up to his nose, he hesitantly took a whiff of its natural scent. It smelled faintly like Mira did, and it was soft to the touch, the fibers of good quality and the plushness tantalizing his face. He felt a little weird about what he’d just done, but he reflected inwardly that he didn’t intend for it to be perverted or inappropriate in any way, so he felt if Mira knew of his behavior, she would find it wasn’t creepy, though she’d undoubtedly make fun of him for it.

Anthony looked down the hall and to where the door to Mira’s bedroom was cracked slightly, he wasn’t about to go in, that he knew was morally beyond what was appropriate, but he was spiked with curiosity none the less. He wanted to know what was in there, he really just wanted to know what it looked like truthfully, but he resisted the temptation. Pushing away the thought of intruding in her most private chambers and violating whatever trust they had, he turned and headed into the bathroom, he was starting to smell, and more than anything else he wanted to feel the warm water on his aching shoulder.

+ + + +

Mira turned the keys again on her later model Honda Civic, the clicking of the ignition, devoid of any crank or thrum of engine life confirmed that she’d probably left her lights on over her shift, draining the small battery. She swore aloud, she had been so busy thinking about the night before with Anthony that she’d neglected to turn them off when she arrived for work this morning, and in doing so killed her car’s power reserve, rendering it useless, and herself stuck at work. She shook her head and with frustration tossed her apron aside into her passenger seat, looking at her phone and seeing the time passed 1:10. She had been denied her last break due to an unexpected rush, and though she knew it would be understandable to make a fuss about that, she did not want to jeopardize her job that she so desperately needed by complaining.

Mira sighed and stepped out of her car, gathering up her purse and removing her phone from it as she walked back towards her store through the parking lot, clicking the vehicle’s remote lock as she went. The lot wasn’t incredibly busy, the earlier rush had died down and most of the parking spots were empty or occupied by car’s owned by employee’s, such as her own. There were customers here and there, and an employee or two gathering up carts, but all in all, it was a slow day she bitterly felt had wasted some of her morning’s free time.

Mira unlocked her phone and sifted through windows until she reached Anthony’s chat bubble, she hadn’t replied to his message from the morning, not getting her break and then afterwards clocking out quickly heading out to her car to eagerly begin the 15-minute commute home. She didn’t want to ask anything of him, especially after last night and what she’d put her favorite friend through, but she didn’t have anyone else she could ask. “Well,” she thought to herself, “that’s not entirely true,” she could ask one of a couple of close friends, but she just wanted to see Anthony, and any excuse to do so, even asking him for a favor after almost eating him, was good enough for her.

She plonked at buttons on her phone’s screen, the heat of her fingertips registering the contact on the surface of the coated glass and typing her short message.

“Hey my car won’t start and I can’t get a ride home, could you pick me up?”

She glanced up for a second as she made her way back through the pair of automatic, sliding glass doors, turning and heading for the employee break room to wait. As she made her way through the heavy metal door that separated the common area from the management owned sections, she smiled or gave small waves to fellow workers she was on good terms with as she passed.

Making her way inside the blue painted walls of the lounge, and before sending out the request for help, she added tactfully.

“Pretty please Anty? ;3” putting a small devious text face behind her last bit of characters.

She found herself alone in the break room, a long wall of lockers for personal belongings mostly shut and secure filling an entire side of the provided lounging space. She walked over and sat on a long blue couch that was across to the other side, sighing and rolling her neck to stretch out a sore kink she’d been cursed with since she’d woken up. She was tired, and before finding that her car battery was dead, she had mitigated the feeling with excitement at the prospect of being home soon, back to prepare for her male friend’s later visit or returning to talking with him in any context.

Mira’s phone buzzed in her hand, silently as she had forgotten to as of yet restore the ringer volume. She immediately looked down and spied a message from her pseudo-roommate, discovering he’d not yet left her apartment.

“Yea sure! I need to walk home and get my car, send me the address to your Kroggen and I’ll come down. :]”

The young woman smiled and typed a message back, she was already about 15-20 minutes from home, and although she knew Anthony didn’t live too far from her, that him having to walk to his own apartment first would put him a little time away. She leaned back and let the couch sink her body down as she finished her quick reply of thanks, attaching the Maps address of her specific store with her location clearly marked for him to reference.

“I’ll see you in like 40 minutes, be outside Lamia,” she saw him send back, the black case of Mira’s phone vibrating slightly.

She cast her eyes around with a tinge of annoyance, he liked to do that to her, call her by a name he knew she didn’t like, probably as a result of Mira making fun of his stature on a constant basis after 7 PM every night without fail. That was well worth it though, the woman loved to poke her massive finger at his mental fortitude whenever she got the chance, and inwardly she reflected, she knew he was starting to like it.

Hoping that one day Anthony would call her more things like, “missy,” as he had the night before, Mira sat her phone in her lap and rested her eyes, it had been a long shift despite the hours being short, but that was the truth of life she thought, the years were short, but the days were always long.

+ + + +

Mira’s phone buzzed as she lazily opened her eyes, the black background displaying a new message from Anthony, and as she glanced at the clock in the corner of the screen, she noticed it was 55 minutes after 1 PM. Without reading the message contents she shook herself awake and got up, walking over to a nearby sink and mirror in the break room and checking her appearance. She undid her ponytail a fluffed her hair a little, pushing it back and impatiently trying to make something of an appealing look for herself.

Not entirely satisfied with her physical adjustments, she composed herself anyways and took in a deep breath, realizing that she wasn’t nervous about the fact she was soon to face Anthony for the first time after last night’s events, but that she was about to see him at all. He made her giddy, and anxious, and though she would never admit in a million years he made her afraid, she did always want to make and leave the best impression possible.

Slinging her purse over her shoulder she finally pushed herself away from the mirror, heading out the door and passing a fellow coworker exchanging a pleasant, albeit disingenuous smile. She wondered as she walked back through her store what Anthony drove, she hadn’t remembered to ask, so she hoped he was paying attention for her, standing outside and waiting awkwardly wasn’t something that as the prospect of the thought made it into her mind, made her comfortable.

Mira had already completely forgotten to check the last message her pet classmate had sent, most of the questions she wanted answers to were in it in fact, but in the end, it worked to his benefit. The sheer look of surprise written in the young girl’s eyes as she came out of the store, finding Anthony standing next to his car immediately in the nearest parking spot across the street, was something that put a smile on his face like never before.

Anthony was standing and leaning on the passenger side door of his ride, his legs crossed casually and his phone in his hand, he stared over at her as she neared him, wearing his own black, masculine tanktop and black shorts. He stood against a rumbling beast of a machine, the shined jet-black paint job matching perfectly the outfit of its attractive master. The engine was running, a healthy, constant tumbling of a precisely engineered set of eight, heavy pistons, the exhaust at the back emitting a deep, throaty grumble of restrained horsepower waiting to be let loose with each revolution of the motor.

Mira halted before Anthony, a smile on his face as she watched her eyes pan back and forth along the curved body of the elegantly polished muscle car, the wheels were as dark as the waxed and buffed exterior, and he could see that despite remaining silent thus far, there was a sign of overwhelming approval in her stare.

“I told you to be outside,” he mumbled down to her with a small grin and one eyebrow raised, enjoying the fact that at this time of day he actually had the opportunity to do so. Mira was about 5’6, maybe 5’7, and when Anthony wasn’t afflicted with the curse she’d gifted him with, he enjoyed looking at her from this angle.

She tore her eyes away from the thrumming, newer edition Dodge Charger, the vehicle’s right lower door panel displaying proudly a red metal badge denoting it was the model with the largest variant of engine possible bolted under the hood.

“Yeah? Well if you think I’m ever going to take orders from you, think again.”

“That’s a weird way of saying you’re happy to see me,”

Mira frowns and narrows her eyes, hoping she isn’t blushing.

Without saying anything more Anthony rises to his feet and takes a step forwards wearing his smile, chest to chest now with the woman in her white work uniform shirt, she doesn’t recoil back and away, but the surprise in her eyes is badly hidden. The man with the same shade of hair as Mira looks down at her and into her eyes, as if he’s looking for something that’s usually there, or suddenly lost without explanation. With a quiet whisper, the engine of his car still growling behind him, he says down to her,

“Your eyes are prettier when they’re nervous, you know…”

This does cause her to blush, and simultaneously forget how to speak incidentally. She stammers for a second and hesitates, Anthony is tall, taller than she remembers despite only seeing him just yesterday, and his shirt reveals that he’s well-toned in his upper body. The eyes of the human male tantalize Mira’s heart as they convey reassurance and warmth, a light of sweet-natured and genuine electricity passes between the two as they stand closer together than they ever have before.

Reaching back behind him, Anthony grasps the handle of his treasured automobile and opens it for Mira, keeping his eyes placed on her own as he does so, not looking away. The girl glances at the gesture as her handsome friend takes a step aside, revealing the red-stitched clean interior. He’s obviously a lot more confident at his normal size she reflects, and the half-demon girl makes a mental note to make him pay, or, depending on the circumstances combined with his perspective of her methods, reward him later for his attempts at charming her.

“Your chariot, madam,” he says politely and with a drop of humor.

Mira blinks and scolds herself for allowing Anthony’s appeal to soothe her emotions; she snaps herself out of his well-played allure and narrows her eyes again while ruffling her lips, saying to her self-conscious as she steps inside the car, “Dammit, why’d he have to be cute, and on top of everything else know how to use it?”

Anthony shuts the passenger door and walks around to his side, climbing in as well and buckling up with the bright crimson seat-belt. He notices Mira has found the automatic seat controls and is rolling and reclining herself backwards. Figuring she wants to lay and rest after her morning at work, he doesn’t think too much of it.

Anthony glances down at his phone as he reviews a message from Kyle before setting off, his friend is asking him, with a somewhat coincidental prediction, how things are going with Mira. He’d left his best friend along with his pick-up team last night when the pretty girl had stolen him away, and Kyle had accurately concluded that they’d gone back to her place. Anthony thought about what to type, but entirely lost his train of thought as he glanced up and over to his female passenger, doing a double take and nearly blurting out an inappropriate curse in sudden disbelief.

“What…Exactly...Do you think you’re doing?”

Mira glances over to him, completely aware that he’d react in this fashion, purposefully trying to get him to do so in fact. The attractive young man had tried to dazzle her minute or two ago, and this was her clear play for revenge. She had her work shoes off and had even removed her socks, the black polished nails of both her feet gleaming like the outside of the car, her ankles propped up on his dashboard and her legs extended fully. She wore black slacks that went with her white top and the black apron she’d left in her Civic, and as she had set up her lazy, relaxed posture, she consciously let them sag back, exposing some of her calves and shins.

“What?” she said as if not understanding why Anthony looked like he was about to vigorously scold her.

“It’s been a long day.”

“This,” he began to reply, gesturing with his hand’s extended index finger back and forth between the pair of them, “whatever this is, is not going to last if you don’t get your nasty feet off my dashboard in like, two fucking seconds.”

Mira smirks over to him, lowering her voice bringing back her usual, threatening stare,

“You know you like them, and don’t you dare sit there and try to lie to me, pest. I saw the way you looked at them the other day,” Anthony blinked in surprise and hesitated, it was written on his face that Mira, metaphorically, had him in the palm of her hand, “but don’t worry, your cute little secret is safe with me.”

Anthony frowns and starts to feel his cheeks warm red, Mira just looks over at him with a smile, taking in a sweet sample of his life’s deepest, most confidential information. He honestly wasn’t certain what he had felt that night, but as he’d spent time with his new inhuman friend, the man had noticed certain compulsions and interests surface that he’d never been prone to before, and he blushed a shade of red because he knew she was right about that specific one she had just mentioned.

Mira leans back and gets her shoulders comfortable in the good quality padding of the seat, closing her eyes and maintaining her grin, she whispers out to him as she sighs, looking as stunning as ever despite her more formal attire,

“But, I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” she opens her lids for a second and tosses him a wink after saying in a tone appropriate for sharing a secret of her own, “I’m sort of into that if you hadn’t caught on…Lucky you, huh?”

Anthony averts his eyes away guiltily and shakes his head, trying and failing to banish the lewd thoughts about Mira he’s feeling right now, though admittedly not for the first time. He throws the transmission into drive and stays silent for a moment, though inevitably taking another look at his lovely companion as the gears lock into place with an audible clunk,

“If I crash,” he says nodding to the dashboard and particularly to the passenger side airbag, “That thing will take your legs off.”

Mira simply shrugs before responding with an honest smile,

“I trust you.”

Anthony takes in what she says as the couple affixes their gazes on one another’s, in this instant the man can feel his heart melting at everything Mira is and has just said quietly to him. She looks away and goes back to having her eyes closed as she leans her head into the seat’s cushion, the human male just looks at her for a second, admiring her, just as she knows he would.

Pursing his lips nervously, Anthony replaces his attention to the windshield, scanning around before pushing his foot down on the gas pedal, the thirsty engine humming aloud with a strong response as the car begins to surge forward, the space before the Charger unoccupied, taking the pair back to Mira’s apartment.

+ + + +

“You had a shower, in my bathroom?”

“I was covered in dried milk, and you said I could help myself,” Anthony replied from the couch with one arm raised and a shrug, turning to look behind him as Mira came down the hall having changed. She was wearing a white tank now, combined with soft black pants that seemed more designed for exercise than lounging.

“What did you expect me to do?”

Mira puts both her hands on the back of the couch and leans over towards him, frowning and narrowing her eyes, she whispers to him with the point of a low, accusatory poke of dialogue,

“You didn’t go into my room, did you?”

Anthony shoots up from the couch and stammers, he doesn’t intend to sound guilty, but he may have unfortunately given that impression with his reply,

“Wh-what? No! Of course I didn’t!”

Mira stares quietly as the young man stands a small distance away, she tilts her head slightly, regarding him for a moment, looking for any hint of dishonesty in his reply. The young man, who is obviously telling the truth, still looks visibly nervous…and she loves it when he’s nervous.

Mira starts tapping one of her hand’s index fingers, the soft material of the couch squishing with each press of the black tipped digit’s pressure. She really wants to exploit his discomfort, but she has an objective in mind for tonight, before 7 PM comes around, and it’s important to both of them she follow through with it.

“Well, don’t. Ever. Are we clear on that?”

Anthony is taken aback, he isn’t sure where she’s suddenly getting her impression of him from, he didn’t think he’d given off a mistrustful vibe this entire time, so he really wants to understand if she’s worried about him beneath the surface.

“Yeah, of course. Does it seem like I would? Why do you think I’d do that, Mira?”

“I didn’t say that, did I? …But I bet you thought about it, didn’t you?”

Anthony’s mouth goes bone dry as it dips down but no words come out, this was what he was afraid of, a question coming up that he did not want to answer, knowing Mira would instantly catch him with something he was supremely embarrassed or scared to admit as true. She notices him flounder at the last thing she asked him in particular, confirming her suspicions, and she smiles and lowers her body so that she’s leaning on the sofa’s back on her elbows, eyeing him sharply as ever.

“You did…didn’t you…?”

“I didn’t say anything-“

“What did I tell you about trying to lie to me, ant-boy?”

Anthony frowns and shoots her a disdainful look, he’s unexpectedly offended that she’d accuse him of being dishonest with her, and his subtle change in posture adds to the weight of his retort.

“I didn’t lie, Mira,” he says, placing emphasis on each word individually as it comes out.

She smiles at him wider and stands up to her full height, turning her body but keeping her eyes on him before fully facing away. She just could not resist, she had to poke at him just a tiny bit, and his little spark of defiant offense that came out as a result of it made her tingle inside.

“Settle down, I’m just playing with you,” she says as she turns, batting a hand at him and heading towards the kitchen now, “It’s ok if you thought about it, as long as your thoughts stay thoughts, Anty.” Mira’s voice gets a little louder as she walks farther away, retrieving what she needs to pour herself and Anthony each a cup of juice, “Which leads me to what I want to talk to you about.”

Anthony walks after her and into the kitchen, calming his sudden flare of belligerence, leaning on one hand against the closest dining chair next to her table before he himself takes control of the conversation.

“Before you start, I just want you to know something, like you told me this morning,” his voice is anxious, but he focuses his thoughts as Mira turns around, a cup of orange juice in each hand as she looks over at him. He takes a deep breath and composes himself, feeling nervous, but wanting to be a part of healing the situation.

“I was worried about you, Mira. When I woke up and you were gone, and I mean, I wasn’t worried because I’m clingy,” he quickly tries to clarify, hoping not to sound weird, or desperate, “I was worried because we couldn’t have this talk sooner, and I couldn’t tell you face to face that it’s alright… that it’s… It’s ok. Really. I didn’t want you to go all day beating yourself up over it.” He raises his head up and looks at her, nodding reassuringly, hoping that she hears his voice but also sees clearly his intent to forgive her actions.

Mira allows herself to send a small smile and a nod in appreciation his way, shortly after she walks over to the table and places the cups in the center of the clean matte wood, taking a seat afterwards, Anthony following suit as she does so across from him. The woman is quiet for a few seconds, thinking of how to even begin, she’d gone over how she had wanted this conversation to play out all morning in her head, planning what to say and how a hundred times, but now that she was facing it, facing him, things were much harder than she had imagined.

“Anthony,” she breathed out under a sigh at last, a mix of sorrow and regret in her tone as she began, “I have a confession to make, and it’s really important to me that you listen carefully.”

The young man braces himself, knowing Mira, this could be one a thousand different dark secrets she’s about to divulge, something awful beyond possibly stomaching, but he nods silently and tries with all his effort to control his coming reaction no matter what her next sentence is.

“I… I really like you. And I want more from this, really I do.”

Anthony’s heart soars as he blushes bright red, and the girl across the table can’t help but take notice and smile at his innocent nature, a white grin and a small crimson flush of her own displaying, but he fights to control emotions, she seems like she’s worried about what she just told him so he curbs his elation quickly, preparing for the worst.

“But I don’t want to hurt you, at least, you know, never again. And…” She trails off and curls her lip, shifting her body to one side uncomfortably.

“And I just don’t trust myself with you, not yet anyways. Especially after last night, I mean…. You saw it,” she says shaking her head trying to dispel the horrid impulse. “You saw what it does to me…”

Though Anthony was suddenly disappointed, he had to admit he was also relieved, he had been feeling this way about Mira for a while now, but he was honest with himself about her lack of self-control. Knowing she felt the same way he did about liking her, but had the same reservations, helped him to relax as he continued the conversation.

Anthony had seen whatever it was that infected Mira, but he had witnessed only a glimpse, though frighteningly close, of what she could do, what she was capable of if not restrained by morals or her conscience. However, to both of their surprise, she had beaten it with his help, and that fact at least proved it was possible, and if it was possible, it could be done again.

The young man took his cup into his hands and held it as he started to respond, using what he knew about the night that had passed to their advantage.

“You’re right, I sorta don’t trust you completely either, well I mean, that other half of you. It is still you at the end of the day, but me and your more… Playful side…. We sort of aren’t on good terms if you know what I mean.”

He smiles over to her as she laughs a little, her mood still delicate and vulnerable, but recovering again as he went along with his warm, considerate tone.

“But you know, I like you too, Mira, a lot actually.” He says with a smile and a nervous hint of anxiety.

“Yeah that wasn’t obvious or anything,” she cuts in with a mumble and takes a sip of her drink smiling. While she’s making a joke of his own admission, she feels the fire in her heart shift and grow in the second she hears it, the heat and rush of affection fueled by this latest spectacular development confirming at last what she had always hoped was true.

Anthony glares at her jokingly and shakes his head trying and failing not to smile.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Look, you managed to beat it last night right, and I’m really sorry you had to go through that, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in my life, believe me, but it seemed to help, don’t you think?”

Mira nodded slowly and glanced down at her orange juice, thinking to herself that it was awful, but she really had found the last few hours to be relatively quiet in regards to her impulses when compared to her usual urge for grim satisfaction. She felt it every day, at least once, or for a while, but since last night, she was more aware of her control, less hampered by a need for satisfaction in her murderously addictive hobby. And she was supremely hopeful, and grateful, because of that.

“So I tell you what, I’ll make you a deal, I will help you overcome your…Well…. Whatever you’d like to call it,”

“Need to kill you?” Mira says looking up with a demeanor that is worryingly sincere.

Anthony pauses and starts nodding slowly, “Yeah, you can call it that…”

She nods in return as she takes a sip from her cup, keeping her eyes on him attentively.

“And in return I get to be your roommate for literally half a year, I honestly don’t trust anyone else to take care of me, and despite you being virtually the worst choice I can make for the job, I’m most comfortable with you, and you seem to at least be willing to take it on. You’re also the only other person who can understand how serious and…Outlandish… Our situation together is.”

Mira beamed with excitement eagerly within, an entire year with Anthony? Even if it was only for half of every day, and only at night? It was like the perfect situation she had been hoping for since she had discovered who he really was as a person. They would be spending lots, and lots of time together regardless, but maybe, eventually, they would start spending the day hours more frequently with each other too. She was excited, and impatient to make that happen, though they literally were still in the conversation that established they’d remain basically agree to remain friends until she could resist the urge to eat him or something. An agreement she had proposed in the first place.

“So yeah…And if we also happen to keep your, “needs,” under control, maybe you’ll let me take you out some time?”

Mira smiles and looks slightly giddy at the offer, inwardly she can hardly contain her elation at this moment, at such a prospect that appeals to her heart, but she has to, she has to for him. Ultimately, she simply bobs her head and replies, knowing that if she tried to date him or become more intimate without gaining more control of herself, she’d doom them both.

“Sure, I think I could bear that…”

Anthony smiles and looks down at his cup, resisting the temptation to look over into Mira’s gorgeous, relaxed stare. He inhales nervously and closes his eyes bowing his head, excited, terrified, and anxious about the future all at the same time. Relieved that he still had a shot with this uniquely amazing girl he’d been caught admiring in psychology class, but worried for her sake, she might end up killing him, again.

“By the way, one more thing,” Mira says finishing her drink, “Fair warning, sorry about anything that might happen to you… I mean, I do like to mess with you, but if you like… Lose a limb or I accidentally step on you or something, just know I probably didn’t mean to, alright?”

Anthony looks up sharply with concern written plainly on his face. “Wait, wait, hold on,” he says out to her wanting to believe he’s misunderstood what she said, holding up both of his index fingers erect to halt her from continuing.

“Has…” Anthony furrows his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes, “has that happened before...? And wait a second! Probably?” He asks more than slightly shocked.

Mira’s eyes widen fractionally and she hesitates to respond, glancing to her cup with a surprised look, as if caught in a lie. She tries to think of an excuse to alleviate his worries, but she knows herself better than that. She stammers, understanding he may actually have some cause for concerns no matter what her intentions may be.

“W-well, I mean, I…Um…”

Anthony sighs heavily and groans, burying his face in his open palms and shaking his head as if given the cruelly unusual death sentence himself, her inability to respond confirming his apprehensive thoughts.

Mira blurts out after seeing his capitulating confidence, trying to salvage his opinion of her.

“Ok look, it was one time, I swear! And the difference between you and that one is I really like you!”

Anthony peeks his eyes over to her through his partially parted fingers, as if he’s a turtle almost coaxed into coming out of hiding from her ridiculous disregard for human life she has just revealed.

Mira chews on her lower lip nervously and glances down to the floor, off and away, muttering another confession,

“Then again, there was that guy I accidentally sat on after putting him on the couch, before I started using the kitchen for stuff…That actually felt really, really goo-“

“Mira!” Anthony interrupts, jarring her from what seemed like a strangely tempting fantasy, an odd smile, as if she was impressed with the manner of her previous victim’s life ending, appearing then disappearing abruptly from her face with his suddenly raised voice.

“What? Yeah? I’m listening!”

The human male drops his hands to the table and places his head on them, overwhelmed by the careless, now turned dangerous, nature of his pretty new roommate, the whole reality of his ordeal coming to what feels like a hopeless, inevitable conclusion prematurely. Sighing to himself out of a not-so incorrect feeling he was in way over his head, he rubbed the temples on either side of his forehead and muttered under his breath, intending the vocalized thought to be entirely to himself,

“Fuck me, man. Seriously?”

He was so completely overcome with a disbelief for Mira’s casual destructive behavior, especially since he would now be exposed to both her clumsy, and non-clumsy tendencies, that her purposefully teasing response didn’t immediately register to him.

“Well, I mean, if you play your cards right…”

The surprised young man stopped, realizing what she’d just said, then shot her a look of absolute disbelief for her disregard for what they had just talked about. She responded back with a guilty widening of her eyes upon seeing the frustration on his face, and standing abruptly, she walked around him then away off into the living room, saying as she passed him.

“Roommates! Right, sorry! Sorry! Damn… This is gonna be hard,” and even as she said it, she wasn’t completely sure herself, if she was referring to keeping him alive, or resisting making a move on him like the pair of them, were apparently, mutually agreeing not to. In absolute reality, she understood deep down she was thinking of both situations.

Anthony groaned a second time to voice his disconcerting emotions, standing up after a moment and following Mira into the living room, meaning to go back to his phone he’d left on the couch. Wanting to oblige his beautiful friend’s suggestive, inappropriate response, but resisting on the grounds that they were not together, nor were they anything officially romantic. He swallowed hard reflecting on how the conversation had gone, Anthony was certainly more excited than he was afraid or worried about his future with Mira, and he was still gushing over the fact that they both held reciprocated attraction to one another, on top of everything else, he was given the chance to help her. He knew there would be more hard times to come; pain, fear, maybe even worse, and this was the only beginning of his relationship with his demonic beauty, but he pondered how this first conversation, something that he would have considered a difficult topic, had gone for them.

“Well,” was the answer, he concluded, it had all actually gone surprisingly well. For the most part.

Anthony rounded the corner and as soon as he did so, he began firing, the smaller caliber rounds of his modified M4A1 carbine peppering an area in front of his intended target as he leads the streak of tracer rounds closer to his enemies shifting head. The gun kicked upwards in a decently predictable pattern, the shots raising the sights of his aim fractionally with each bullet that left the muzzle. The recoil pattern was something that, if you were good enough at shooting, you could account for during individual engagements and at most times use to your advantage. It was a fairly typical left and right deviation, with every other shot or so that made up the controllable retort of invisible gases as you fired, and he tried to remember that as his shots missed his intended mark in a scatter for the second time in less than half a minute.

The man flinched however as he went after his opponent, who had seemingly begun to flee, making an obvious mistake by giving chase and not taking a moment to consider the circumstances. The outline of a black hooded figure carrying a pump-action shotgun filled his view as the weapon in his hand blasted a single shot that sent Anthony flying backwards in a heartbeat, his body limp and the other darkly dressed man looming over him close by, suddenly accompanied by a high pitched female laugh.

“I swear to God if you keep using that shotgun, I’ll-“ Anthony began, throwing Mira who was sitting comfortably on the couch behind him, her video game controller in hand, a hard look of displeasure.

“Oh you’ll what? What are you gonna do? I’d love to hear this!” She said with a smug look of accomplishment on her face. She was bundled up in her favorite brown blanket, it was still colder outside and the apartment’s heater wasn’t running, though she still curiously didn’t change her outfit to adapt to the cooler temperature despite that.

Anthony grumbled and turned away, clicking the right bumper on the back of his controller to toggle briefly the score screen, which showed he was losing by three kills now with that last mistake of his.

“It’s not gonna change no matter how much you check it loser,” Mira says with a laugh and a smile from behind.

“Yeah, well, all you do is use shotguns anyways, it’s not so bad losing to you when I know without it, you’d suck. It’s basically not even fair on this map.”

Mira grins widely, mostly because Anthony hasn’t turned around to see her face, and says over to him with a chuckle, genuine but teasing,

“Do I look like someone who plays fair? Ever?”

Her male roommate does turn now, and he raises an eyebrow at her as she gives him a look of expectant immanency. He rolls his eyes, which makes her laugh again as he smiles and looks back to the screen, tossing his controller away finally fed up with dying to Mira’s cheap playstyle. No one’s ever really beaten him at Call to Honor, at least not legitimately in a duel, and though he was serious about his female opponent’s easy counter to the match, he had been looking forward to putting her in her place for once with something he was good at. She had, however, to his surprise beaten him.

Anthony leans back and lays against the edge of the couch, his shoulders held up by the cushions, Mira sitting next to where he’s reclined, her legs tucked beneath her rear end as she sits relaxed on her knees cocooned in her blanket.

“No,” he says agreeing with her flatly, “You don’t. But I had at least figured you’d want to have a little fun, and not just win. That sounds a lot like you.” He pauses as his mind comes to grip with another thought, “Well, not all the time anyways.”

Mira puts down her wireless remote on the sofa, leaning over to Anthony’s head as she pulls the edges of the soft, brown covers with both hands around her torso.

“Awww, are you sad you lost, my little pet?” she says with a whisper in almost convincing sympathy, just about into his ear.

“No,” Anthony continues again, still maintaining his normal volume, “I’m starving and I don’t understand why we have to wait until after 7 to eat.”

Mira sits back up and against the back of the couch, the soft green cushions pleasing her senses as she lazily slouches, rolling her eyes. Boys are so dumb, she’s really doing him a favor by not feeding him immediately, and while it may seem obvious to her, she recalls he hasn’t quite gotten used to changing sizes yet. There were, as she was coming to find out, advantages to Anthony’s reduced stature that could be played to both their benefits. Most of the helpful variables from the small man’s perspective were practical, and virtually all of the plans from Mira’s point of view were devious. This one, however, was one of the few that was not.

“Shall I explain to you the reason why?”

“Yea, I’d appreciate that, please.” He says impatiently, his stomach clearly giving him a little bit of discomfort, influencing his mood.

“If we eat after 7, don’t you see you’ll eat a lot less overall?”

Anthony suddenly turns his gaze to the side of his head, as if the image of her point has materialized across the room from him. He did now see where she was going with this, and it was actually pretty clever. Anywhere the pair of them, as college students were always looking to do so, could save money would prove to be useful no matter the context, and in this situation being able to eat as much as he wanted peaked his interest.

“If we eat after 7, you can basically eat however much you want, and it won’t cost you an arm and a leg to pay for it.” She stops for a second as she concludes her ingenious idea, but then continues, “Well, I mean, it might cost you an arm or a leg, but not financially anyways…”

She smiles over at him, but hides the lower half of her face beneath the brown blanket’s edge, knowing full well she’s just made a pretty bad joke. Anthony glances back over at her, she looks embarrassed with the lazy attempt at humor she’s just thrown out, but he can’t help but find her funny just for being herself.

The young man shakes his head and reaches behind his shoulder sitting up a bit, his toned back muscles mostly healthy but blemished with a bruise on his right shoulder. To Mira’s surprise though, as Anthony scratches his arm uncovered by the material of his black, sleeveless tank-top, she spies something curious, something that causes her to reflexively squint to get a better look at.

“Anthony,” Mira starts, her roommate looking over his shoulder at her as she says his name.

“Do you have a tattoo?” The young demon girl says with a smile and both her eyebrows raised, one more so than the other in mild excitement and surprise. She doesn’t notice it immediately, but as she mentions the new discovery she’s just made, the sitting man’s demeanor changes, a new emotion rippling within him just below the surface of his outward appearance, like the first insignificant droplet of rain in a coming monsoon.

He swallows hard and looks away, his thoughts suddenly dark, his memory flooded with long-buried feelings of remorse and nearly forgotten pain. He dips his head and fidgets with his fingers nervously, anxiously, as if he had been afraid of Mira finding it at some point, or indeed, he himself for some reason finding that it was still there having not disappeared with time.

“I have to admit, I always sort of took you for a boy scout,” the girl chuckles aloud, but even as she does so, her teasing fades the instant Anthony does not respond with a defense or the typical, good-natured retort. He’s quiet, oddly so, and looking off towards the opposite side of the room with a strange blankness she’s never seen in him before. He doesn’t speak back to her at all, the silence between the pair quickly becoming uncomfortable, and though Mira’s apprehension at his abrupt change in mood has her slightly worried, she’s still a little curious.

“Anthony?” Mira says with her voice lowered, no longer joking or trying to poke fun at him. She resists the urge to touch him, or place a comforting hand on his shoulder, she doesn’t know what’s going on, or what’s happening in his mind, and while she desires to find out, she doesn’t want to risk doing something that might make him more uncomfortable by testing something like physical boundaries.

Whatever it was that was on his back, if it was indeed a tattoo which it appeared to be, was clearly a topic that brought trouble to his mind.

Anthony shook himself suddenly and took in a deep breath, his hand coming to his face to rub his nose with the side opposite of his palm. He stood, placing his a hand on his head and running his fingers through his hair, as if trying to calm himself or pull free, like weeds, seemingly unpleasant thoughts from the roots of his brain.

“It’ll be seven soon,” his says lowly changing the subject, in the voice of a man whose mind was distracted by vivid memories playing within his subconscious, refusing to banish, “We should get started on dinner, or something.”

He’s uncharacteristically trying to push Mira away, and this causes her worry to overshadow her earlier curiosity.

“Anthony,” Mira replied moving in her seat to face him with her body, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

He was quiet for several moments as he faced away from the woman, having taken a few steps from where he’d been laying against the couch next to her, now standing adjacent to the far end of the piece of furniture she relaxed on. He spoke at last, as he shifted his jaw nervously, licking his lips before uttering his first words, clearly reluctant to actually do so.

“Yeah, it’s a tattoo. I got it a few years ago.”

“Intriguing,” thought Mira. She did honestly sort of judge him for his straight-arrowed theme in life, though not necessarily in a bad way. He seemed to not have a single bad bone in his body, but as the young woman reflected to herself that even she, a monster fueled by indiscriminate agony, could have the remains of good within her soul, he too could hide the secrets of a fallen angel.

She needed to know more, especially if she was going to help him heal this new invisible wound she’d stumbled upon by accident, so the girl pressed him ever so slightly, with the intent to keep him safe, but try and be a source of comfort.

“Would it be ok if I saw it?”

Mira tried to be supportively neutral, she didn’t want to push him to do something he didn’t want to, but she could tell something about the mark she’d gotten a small glimpse of was the cause of what troubled him.

“Why do you want to see it?” He responded curtly.

The woman was taken by surprise with the question, but she replied plainly with an honest answer of her own.

“Well, it seems important to you, and most tattoos have a story behind them, right?”

The mention of a reason for the inked-engraving other than for art or self-expressive purposes by Mira seemed to resonate with Anthony, his eyes unable, though likely not trying, to hide his discomfort at the correct point for it to exist.

“We’re still getting to know each other, and it’s something about me I’d always hoped you’d never ask about.” He lowered his head, as if ashamed, merely muttering out the words like they were themselves, an admission of fault.

“Then you don’t have to tell me the story behind it, but let me see it. It’s ok, I promise.”

Anthony had turned to consider her request as she had begun to speak her last sentence; he eyed her closely for reassurance, which she genuinely displayed to him, with no glimpse of judgment or humor. Her eyes spoke to him with their shining irises alone, confirming the promise she had said out loud was one she intended to keep with her actions. The troubled man reflected silently to himself as he stared over to her, the girl not making a sound as well waiting for his reply, that she of all people he figured, of anyone he’d ever known, would understand.

He turned back and away sighing as one hand came up and rubbed his face, his mind having been convinced of what he was about to do, given Mira’s request. His gaze moved upward and almost searched around the ceiling as if to find a final reason in the white popcorn material of the paint as to why he shouldn’t show her his black secret, but in the end, he simply reached back with his hands and began to pull the tank off his torso.

Mira watched as the shirt came away, seeing the undulation of toned muscles and tanned skin revealed in one motion as her roommate took off about half his clothing, getting a better look at the large purple and discolored bruise covering most of his right shoulder’s flank. She blushed slightly, not exactly expecting him to expose himself so willingly, but restrained herself, knowing this was an action made out of reluctance, not intimacy.

And there, in the very center of Anthony’s back, starting between his shoulder blades and ending near his lower abdomen was the surprisingly macabre tattoo. The etched skin was midnight in color, and sinister in nature, something she hadn’t anticipated would mar the flesh of someone like her sweet-hearted college crush. It was only one color, the same general shade of his shirt, but even more deep as if pulled from the emptiest part of the lightless night sky. It was a skull, an oversized human head without skin or muscle, devoid of meat and a lower jaw, screaming silently with eye sockets that no longer contained eyes. The bone of the thing was cracked, scraped, and damaged in places at random, there were a few teeth missing in the remaining upper jaw, and one cheekbone had been fractured completely off, the ragged edges sharp and unpleasant. It was an abused, ominous thing to behold.

The detail that was most curious, however, was just above the brow, something that as Mira examined it from the couch, she realized she couldn’t quite make out. Anthony heard her stand, discarding her blanket as she walked slowly over to him, keeping her eyes on the forehead of the tattooed skull. She glanced up at him meeting his gaze as she made it to just behind where he stood, he was allowing her to inspect him without resisting, so she was careful not to actually touch him. Looking back down she read two words aloud, the letters of the text, which appeared in the art to have been scratched into the bone with a knife or some other sharp instrument, the lines thin, rough, and morbidly uneven.

“Morte Perpetua?” Mira said quietly, narrowing her eyes, “Death is…Death is forever?” She said curiously up to the bearer of the words, trying to confirm if she was correct.

Anthony allowed one short, half-chuckle, and a regretful small smile break his lips. Mira is smart, and he really enjoys that about her.

His words come out with only the slightest breath of a whisper, his regret and sorrow not allowing his voice to carry any higher no matter what he commanded his vocal cords to do.

“No…Close, but no.”

The young man turns to face her, and she stares up at him, into his eyes that reveal a faded pain that no matter how distant or how well it's been concealed, looks as if it’s as permanent as the black ink sizzled into his body.

He says down to her, his smile gone, and with a cold certainty that for the first time makes her heart weep for a reason she isn’t yet permitted to know,

“It says, “Forever Dead,” Mira…”

Silence follows between the two, an unmistakable understanding passing beneath the words. There’s something awful inside of him that hasn’t gone away with the passage of time, nor with the healing qualities of new happy memories. He’s felt it, every day in some way ever since the needle broke his skin, and perhaps even long before that.

“I know what you are Mira. What you really, truly are. And I don’t care. I still…I still want you, no matter what. It doesn’t change a thing… Do you understand me?”

Mira nods while curling nervously her lower lip, fully aware that he means despite her terrible sins, he wants the opportunity to care for and be with her. His current vocalized thoughts make her feel indescribable, the feeling of being wanted, not just for her stupid appearance, or for her initial, falsified charm, but for who she was as a person. She felt…Somehow… as if she had never been safe before, in her entire life, until now. She felt at home when she was around him, especially when he told her it was so.

As she lost her thoughts in what Anthony’s just said, though she’d already known his deepest feelings for a while now of course, he broke her momentary trance, his next words a whisper of a reality that to him, seemed soul-crushingly hopeless.

“But if you knew what I was…” He trails off, unintentionally thinking to himself about if one day she’d decide to discard him upon learning the truth. “Would you feel the same?”

The wind is blowing outside, not hard, and not even against the walls of the apartment, but it’s so quiet the pair can clearly hear the air rustling the leaves of the exterior trees and bushes. He’s staring hard at her, searching her eyes for any hint of doubt or the formation of a lie, and while he finds none, and she begins to open her mouth to reply, they are interrupted.

The sharp ring of Anthony’s cell phone tone screams out, shattering the silence of the exchange and making Mira jump slightly. The tone came from the floor and Anthony glances down to regard it, fully expecting it though since it was a previously created alarm he’d armed a few hour ago. It was set for 6:50 PM intended to remind him every day that he needed to prepare to shift; he didn’t bother to set it for the morning though, as the changing seemed to not influence him while he slept, why that was, of course, he wasn’t sure.

The young man turned away as the jingling ringer began to fade, walking towards the hallway and leaving Mira standing alone by the couch.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom before dinner, I’ll be back before seven, don’t worry.”

Mira watched him walk away, the black skull leering back at her as he rounded the corner towards the restroom, not waiting for her reply or acknowledgment. Anthony was different, she’d always known that, but she now was feeling the beginning sensation of how he must have felt for her when it came to the topic of her dark past. What could he have done, this sweet and innocent person she’d taken on as a tiny pet for half a year, that could warrant a mark that promised such a tormenting destiny?

As she walked around the couch, heading for the kitchen, she paused at the opening to the hallway, looking down it to the door of the restroom, the entrance closed and a line of light beneath the rectangle of wood. Whatever it was he’d done or had become, Mira knew he would need her help to overcome it one day, and she wanted that chance to heal his abused heart, just like he had taken on for her. And besides, whatever the root of his distress was, it couldn’t be nearly as bad as what she had done in life so far…

Could it?

+ + + + +

“Drink?” Mira said with a raised eyebrow next, looking down and over to Anthony.

“Nope, and I don’t smoke either.”

“Jesus, you really are a boy scout.” She said with a smile over to Anthony as he shrugged dismissively, the young man leaning against the back of the couch, standing again at his post 7 PM height of just over one inch. Mira was laying on her chest on the firm carpet of the floor, a psychology textbook and her pen and notebook out in front of her. She was leaning on her elbows and her sockless feet were wagging in the air behind her, the bends of her knees angled to a little less than ninety degrees, displaying a casual and relaxed nature.

“Oh, so you drink and smoke then?” The tiny man says almost accusatorily.

“Yes I do, I’m a girl of every vice imaginable,” she attempted to lie.

“Right, which is why you never carry a lighter and why the fridge only has milk, water, and juice to drink,” he said countering smoothly with a dismissive nod, correctly calling her bluff.

She shrugs and raises an eyebrow in his direction, “Maybe I’m trying to quit the stuff? Ever think of that?”

“Yeah, sure, all at once to I suppose, huh? Figured since you’d take on smoking and drinking in the same week you’d just add in murdering people too, eh?”

They both laugh and Mira shakes her head down to her open book pages, turning back to look at her roommate after allowing enough time to think of a response.

“Well, you know what they say, no one likes a quitter. You keep it up and I just might decide to relapse on one of those.” She says smiling over to him and tilting her head back, looking at him from a deliberately downward angle.

The couple had been conversing for about two hours, having eaten some leftover pizza Mira had stashed in her fridge, they now talked and got to know each other a little better concerning common details about one another. They were finding they truthfully had most things in common, except at this point that Anthony didn’t appreciate pineapple on his pizza, although he happily enjoyed them separate when Mira picked one off and had teased him with it a while ago.

Anthony rubbed his shoulder with his left hand and winced slightly as he began to speak back, Mira taking notice as he did so.

“Gonna make fun of me, when you have virtually the same habits? Nice…”

“Yeah, well I’m far from the well-behaved little angel you are, bug…” She keeps looking at him and watches his fingers massage his right side joint. “And what’s wrong with your shoulder? I saw it was bruised earlier.”

“Huh? Oh,” he immediately ceases rubbing his injury he’d incurred the night before, “it’s nothing, its fine, really.”

Mira narrows her eyes at him, his statement not quite a lie, but in some ways worse, a truth he was trying unnecessarily to play off.

“…What?” He says out to her guiltily and shrugs.

The towering, beautiful, monster of a girl rolls her eyes at his silly attempt to seem resilient and sits up on her left elbow to get a better view of him, beckoning with her right hand’s index finger, signaling for Anthony to approach her.

“Come here.” She commands without room for excuse or interpretation.

The small male hesitates, and she seems agitated by it suddenly when she of course notices, though she isn’t truly angry, Mira just knows how to be dominant in virtually every context possible. The enormous woman could easily pluck him from his soft ground, bring him up to her huge eyes and examine him, but she likes to assert her superiority over him at any available moment, and promptly proceeds to do so.

“Now…” she says, noticeably taking on a slightly louder, more commanding tone. She lowers her head and gives her practically glowing brown eyes a sharp line to his small body, fixing him with her usual, menacing stare.

Anthony grumbles and begins to walk over to where Mira’s face and view are closest to the edge of the couch. He arrives before her obediently and looks up at her unnervingly large, looming face, waiting for her inevitable next instruction.

“Turn around. Let me see.”

He reluctantly does as he is told, facing away and feeling a nervous rise come up from his gut. Anthony is adjacent to the edge of the couch, and as he stands idly, he can sense Mira lean over and place her head close to his back. The small man can feel her breaths wash his skin with nitrogen and trace amounts of carbon dioxide, the warmth of her immense body transferring to her exhalations and feeling nice on his bare, exposed arms given the chilly outside weather.

“What happened, and does it hurt right now?”

“Nothing’s broken or dislocated if that’s what you’re asking,” he comments glancing over his shoulder to behold her face which fills his vision, “and it showed up after last night when I fell out of your spoon.”

Mira eyes him carefully, wishing she’d taken a better look at it when he had been normal size a while ago.

“I would know if it was broken, I’ve broken bones before.”

As the words left Mira’s terrifyingly large mouth, Anthony found himself hoping she meant she’d suffered those types of injuries herself before in the past, though as he reflected darkly upon what she was referencing, he knew better than to ask.

“Tomorrow before I go to work we’ll put something on it to help with the pain.”

She pauses and realizes a small fleeting thought.

“Which reminds me, I’ll need a ride to work tomorrow morning, I have to be there by eight alright? So stop messing with your bruise until then.”

The small man groans and then grunts with pain as his fingers rub the area again one last time, “Yeah, easy for you to say. It does hurt.” Anthony replies beginning to turn around and face Mira again.

“Aww,” Mira replies with a playful sympathy giving him a face of mock regret, then shifting her tone to a low, sensual whisper, “Was momma too rough with you sweetie?”

Anthony blanches red in an instant and Mira winks at him with a giggle, she really can’t control herself, in more than just the obvious way. He says up to her, arguing with a voice that’s trying to conceal his infatuation with her alluring personality.

“Hey! I volunteered to play the game, and if you hadn’t cheated I would have won!”

“I don’t see why you’re so upset; I accepted your friend request. I was nice even though you lost, fair and square.”

“Also,” he continued without pause, ignoring her rebuttal, “if you’re gonna keep spamming shotguns when we play Playstation, this agreement is over, and I’m getting a hotel.”

“Oh are you now?” Mira says with a nod and imitating a surprised look with her eyebrows as if she’s impressed by his boldness.

“Yup, and I’ll find another cute demon-girl to take care of me. Probably on Craigslist.”

Things technically had been fair in either situation, but in reality, Mira had bent the rules so far they were nearly playing a completely different game each time. It had been fun though, even for both of them for a while.

Mira sighs with a smile as Anthony shakes his head with minute frustration and in rising humor, she looks down at him from not far away and decides on something the pair of them will both enjoy immensely, something that will certainly shut him up and win the discussion for her.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough outta you. Come here.”

Without waiting for him to reply, Mira sits up and onto her butt against the front of the couch crossing her legs, extracting her tiny man from the sofa in between her massive index finger and thumb after readjusting herself. She moves her book with her free hand so that it’s sitting in front of her new position and still easy for her to read. The incalculable grip of Mira’s fingers bring down and release Anthony onto her thigh near her right knee, her soft, black sports pants covering her tantalizing legs.

The giant woman moves her finger over a bit, next to where her pet human has been placed standing, and she casually taps her leg twice with her index finger.

“Right here, on your chest,” she says sounding reasonably relaxed.

Anthony glances over to the spot on the soft black landscape and doesn’t move immediately, he’s not sure what she’s getting at, and is a little nervous that her finger is still raised above the indicated area Mira told him to lie at.

She sees he hasn’t moved, and she glances at the spot and then quickly back at him with a nod, communicating a clear, “do it,” without having to say anything further.

Anthony sighs and swallows nervously, rubbing his upper lip, walking a few steps to the spot beneath her fingertip, the soft, almost spongey material of her attire barely registering his weight as he went. He stretches first and winces again with a sharp exhale, the pain of the bruise on his shoulder reminding him of the ugly wound. With a final push of trust, he lays down and places his arms beneath his chin, like he’s predictably about to receive an enormous massage, finding a moment later that’s exactly what his huge, gorgeous roommate has in mind.

Without hesitation, but with gentle care, Mira lowers her black painted fingernail until she feels it contact with Anthony’s small body. She feels him exhale harshly beneath her touch, surprised by it but not harmed, and she feels a momentary flush of maternal care at her delicacy with him. She rubs him, first reassuringly to comfort his worries, then slowly, with very minute pressure as if she’s trying to finger-paint on a thin piece of paper, the woman caresses the tiny human’s back, feeling the slight bumps of his shoulder muscles and the dip in the natural curve of his lower abdomen.

Anthony groans out loudly, the pressure of the massive fingertip applied almost precisely to his liking, as if the giant woman is employing both of her hands as she would at normal size, pushing lightly and focusing on his injured right side. Her finger is of course too big to single out any one small section of his body, but she uses her lone index digit to masterfully sooth his aching muscles and joints, the small, almost wave-like ripples of her skin’s print rubbing him with exquisite satisfaction.

Mira is smiling down at him, watching her small black nail rotate in little circles as his body is pulled around lightly by the motions of her finger. She glances up and away, back to her book as she casually goes back to reading her chapter assigned earlier in the week. She’s comfortable, relaxed, and for one of the first times she can remember before meeting Anthony, she’s genuinely happy.

Her eyes scan the text and she leans over to re-read a sentence at the bottom of her current page and as she does so, she must have fractionally shifted her angle on his body, because Anthony’s immediate response alarms her for a heartbeat.

“Ohhh God, uughhh.” Mira glances down quickly with a surprised and concerned expression, and immediately stops her finger from moving, a prick of panic firing into her chest, but upon seeing her tiny pet unharmed, she smiles wider and almost laughs, understanding now his moaning is out of physical pleasure and not of pain.

“Did… Did I find a spot?” she says trying to keep her lips from breaking too widely, concealing her entertainment at his reaction.

Anthony only replies with more moaning, communicating soon after with a slow nod of his head, turning it to one side to face her own high above. The small man adjusts his posture and sets his right cheek against the fabric of her pants, arms now above his head and flat on their palms, completely intoxicated by her touch and expertly applied efforts to alleviate his body’s stress.

Mira can’t focus at all on the homework she had planned for the evening, and she’s coming to realize she’s hardly spent any of her time the past hours doing her work for school at all. The huge woman doesn’t care though, she and Anthony both are just enjoying themselves too much for it, or anything else, to matter and even now she can feel her affection for him growing due to the attention she’s giving him, and the adorable response he’s giving back. It was always the small instances in life that gave the best forms of emotion, and made for the brightest, most vivid memories, and Mira’s list of favorite moments and times with Anthony was expanding every second they spent together.

As her feelings swirled around in her heart and in her mind, the slight rotation of her finger emulating her thoughts as they did so, she had a sudden need to divulge something to her tiny roommate, who was in absolute heaven at the moment. She hoped he wouldn’t mind her speaking and breaking his little trance.

“Anthony,” she almost whispered out, turning her face to watch him bask in her personal attention.

A faint, “hmm?” or mumbled confirmation for her to continue came back from the relaxed human ant, but it was muted and clearly seemed distracted.

Mira licked her lips nervously and took a deep breath despite smiling, already relaxed herself, but always hesitant to expose her deepest emotions, though that was changing when it came to Anthony. She was about to say something important to her, and she was hopeful he would receive it well.

“Thanks…” She muttered down, her eyes melting at his obviously relaxed figure as his body remained limp, and his microscopic eyes closed. “For everything...”

Anthony sighed heavily and revealed his brown gaze, his lids had been closed since she’d first began to caress him, his euphoria enhanced by his vision being reflexively shut in response to the soothing pressure of her immense finger.

“Is…” He started to reply lowly, his voice still blatantly influenced by his physical high, Mira’s finger still rubbing his body.

“This your way of telling me you’re about to kill me?” he mutters up to her entirely joking.

Mira couldn’t contain herself at his humor he intended to make obvious, and she let out a giggle and looked up rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of the question.

“Because right now, I’d be totally OK with that…”

Still laughing Mira babbles out, not able to maintain her demeanor and Anthony’s joke overcoming her typical calm.

“Oh my God,” she says between short bits of cute laughter, “you would definitely not be ok with that.”

It was strange really, now that she had the minuscule human at her mercy again, she didn’t feel as if she had a need to destroy him utterly, ending his life. Mira could, undeniably, still feel the desire beneath the surface, but it was coated almost entirely by her infatuation with him, overpowered by her desire to comfort and keep him safe, instead of how best to go about killing him. She still had urges, a lot of them in fact, but she noticed for certain they were more distanced from her immediate sub-conscious, like in the way you would sometimes forget about having a toothache if you preoccupied your mind with something else. And as she rubbed his little back while he lay comfortably on her thigh, her thoughts began to drift.

She did, truthfully, have a thing for ending the existences of small creatures, and people in particular. She loved the way they could display fear and fully understand their impending doom; the merciless vixen had partaken in the murderous behavior for more than a few years now, and crucially during the most influential period of her young life.

Mira had tried at first to, “ween,” herself of the insidious craving, she’d tried crushing toys initially when she was younger, then things like cans or bottles that made satisfying crunching noises, but that hadn’t worked. She wanted something that could feel pain to suffer her wrath. After inanimate objects had failed, she had moved onto insects, and when she found out how much more enjoyable it was to actually kill something, that had been when her mom had stepped in.

The young woman, then about twenty-one, had been scolded by her mother for taking part in such a disturbing hobby, her single remaining parent vehemently warning her that such actions would lead to nothing but a worse craving for something more…satisfying.

The scolding and warnings had come to late however, and soon after the conversation, in that very month, he mother had died. That was when Mira had lost herself, unfortunately in many ways. The distress of being alone in the world, the fact she was going to be moving away soon and going off to school, the undeniable truth as she had outlined previously that she had few friends and was very unskilled at making them, it all just simply proved too much for the heartbroken, beautiful little demon.

It had all started with a girl in her anatomy class, the very first class she’d taken in college a few years back. The poor damaged young lady had just wanted to fit in, to try and salvage the pieces of her life, and some preppy, blonde harlot had been cruel to her, made fun of her looks, and even taunted her about where she had come from originally before going off to pursue her higher education. Mira knew it was because she too was pretty, and the idiotic human had been threatened by her being the more attractive female in the class. She was so petty. So stupid. So…undeserving of life.

One day Mira had just had enough and snapped. She finally silenced the weaker, human side of her heart and decided the only course of action was to kill her, and what better way to accomplish that and satisfy her nagging hunger for special forms of death than to curse her with insignificance, something Mira knew, that she was already guilty of on the inside anyway.

Mira had dehumanized her in a day. It almost took no effort at all to convince herself that despite the unlikely event she’d be caught and exposed as a murderer, despite even committing the most dastardly of damning sins, she wanted to feel, and see, the end of this person’s life.

Mira Lamia, only months after losing her mother, and weeks after moving to a new city and beginning what was supposed to be a positive new chapter in her life, had killed her first human being at age twenty-one. Most soldiers could not brag about that accomplishment. Most doctors, convicted felons, and even ruthless dictators could not share a spot at the table for villains such as herself. She had become exactly what the black demon had called her when it had first visited her with the terms of the pact for redemption. A monster.

Lions, tigers, animals, and beasts of the darkest corners of the frail reality that was human understanding knew as she did now what it was like. They had killed ever since they could stand. They had been butchering other living things for food or sport ever since they’d been born into this wretched place called existence. Mira was one of them now, she wasn’t human anymore, she probably never was, she’d been separated from the rest of her apparent kind and placed herself an enormous step above them all. It was fitting then, she felt, as if a strange wash of poetic comprehension had suddenly become obvious to her at the time, that Mira’s first victim, a girl whose name she couldn’t even remember, would meet her end in a very specific way.

Mira had eaten her first human, solidifying all beliefs in her mind that she was superior in every way imaginable. Everyone else, everyone she knew and would ever come to know, was just food to her, or worse, just a means of self-satisfaction.

The pathetic thing, no longer human in Mira’s eyes, no longer a person, just a less than bite-sized piece of squirming meat she happened to be able to understand the frantic words of, had satisfied her in ways she never felt before when it crunched beneath the molars of her jaw line’s slightest pressure. The blonde girl had of course panicked, screamed, begged, and even cried, but it had only made Mira more excited… Even more hungry…

She had assured the sobbing thing it would serve the body she had been so jealous of well. Before devouring her Mira had happily explained she’d soon contribute vital nutrients and sustenance to her elegant appearance, enhancing it microscopically forever. This had only seemed to trouble her even more for some reason, and the titan of a girl had annoyingly given up on trying to make things easier for her, promptly tilting her head back, rolling out her tongue, and not shutting her eyes as she watched the tiny human fall into her gaping mouth released from her pinched fingers.

The deed had taken place in a locker room, not too unlike the one Mira had confronted Anthony in a few days ago, and it had all happened so fast, almost in less than two minutes, but the event had let loose something dark in Mira’s soul, something she found, with more and more frequency, was difficult to satiate after that. She’d settled for a few months on just the girl from anatomy, but then it had happened again. The devious inhuman had nearly been caught the second time, and after that, she took, to her frustration, a longer break between horrid acts of violence. She’d learned from her mistakes and moved things to her apartment then, and that immediately improved her ability to safely enjoy her sinister hobby on a more reliably regular basis.

Slowly but surely, Mira amassed a body count as she got better and better at the techniques of her unspeakably disturbing pleasures. The young woman weaponized her obvious female attraction, crafted her personality into a sticky web with which to secure potential victims, and honed her skills at deception to the point of a dagger’s edge. She had only gotten two in her first year, then five the next, then ten after that. Finally, at last, this year she had encountered Anthony, innocent, sweet Anthony in psychology class and he had brought the grand total to twenty-six, strangely, oddly coincidentally even, the same count as both their ages.

The dead victims had been men and women. Young and old. From school and even more frequently, not. There was no trend, there was no rhyme or reason to how or why she selected specific people whose lives she planned to end for the appeasement of her own desires. The only person she’d really so suddenly ever wanted, as Mira reflected with him beneath her right hand’s index finger, had been Anthony.

Mira swallowed hard as she felt a twitch in the left ventricle of her heart, she was corrupt in mind, body, and spirit, just as the demon had promised, and for that, she hated herself. Thus far, the reality of her life was that she existed only to cause pain and that she was nothing, nor ever would be, anything but a savage beast.

By stark contrast, Anthony was kind, and never seemed to stop caring given any form of turmoil or circumstance. He may at times hide it, even try to do so from someone like Mira, but she knew he was bright with the vibrant light of compassion on the inside. However, there was again that thought, that small hope: nobody was perfect, and nobody was completely innocent. If somebody like Anthony held a tiny portion of wrongdoing from his life, it comforted Mira, as shamefully as she admitted, that that meant perhaps for herself there was a sliver of hope for her return to humanity and maybe even a normal life. If it was at all possible, in any way, she knew it would only be with Anthony’s support. She just hoped to whatever God there was that it would be enough for him to arrive safely at the other end.

“Hey,” the tiny man said sitting up and raising his left arm, placing it against the towering monster’s fingertip, meaning to and succeeding in stopping it from rotating so he could focus on speaking, “You OK Mira?”

She glanced down, back to her little roommate, and blinked a few times in quick succession as if woken from a dream…or a nightmare that took place with her eyes open. There he was again, as she brought her mind back to reality, appearing when Mira needed him most to rescue her from herself.

“Yeah,” she said wanting to convince her own internal thoughts, even as the words left her lips, “Yeah, I’m fine, sorry.”

He looked up at her, keeping her finger from massaging him still, with concern for her written on his face. He was worried about her, and as he said why, she admired his support and his silly disregard for his own safety.

“It’s the urges, isn’t it?” He replies understanding and with a smile, looking as if he’s ready again to prove his determination to help her.

She nods, with a tiny smile of her own, staring down at him and moving her massive finger away off to his side as he stands up and to his feet.

“Yeah… Something like that, but I’m fine. Really.” She pauses and keeps smiling down to him, nodding again, the truth in her eyes as well as in her voice, “I’m alright… Thanks to you.”

Anthony beams with a rush of blood to his entire face as he gulps and looks away, bashfully scratching the back of his head with a raised arm, he knows she wants him to feel this way, she wouldn’t have said what she had otherwise, but he’s always adorably embarrassed when Mira compliments him in any way.

“Well…I mean. You would do the same for me. Right?”

Without skipping a beat, understanding the question also has something to do with what Anthony has hidden behind his personality’s golden curtain, she replies purely,

“I would...”

The two smile at each other feeling a warmth pass between them as they do so, however, something that this time surprises them both happens in the next moment, as if the affectionate instance has a need, for some reason, to be ruined.

Anthony’s phone rings in his pocket, a ringtone that’s different than most of his other, more standard tones. It’s upbeat, and as soon as it goes off Mira notices that he’s got a sudden urgency to retrieve the smartphone and answer it. He finally yanks it out after wrestling with his shorts, and as he gets a look at the screen, he mutters out something that peaks the female roommate’s interest.

“Shit…” Anthony says with a gasp and a frown.

“What? Who is it?” Mira says half-curious and a little surprised.

“Be quiet alright, don’t say anything! Seriously!”

Mira furrows her eyebrows at his sudden, daring command, a small part of her angered at being told what to do by someone at the small man’s size, but her interest at this new discomfort her pet human is displaying is peaked.

“What? Why?” the woman says looking clearly surprised and confused.

Anthony waves his free hand down and around as the ringer ceases and he picks up the call, his voice shifting in an instant, more restrained, and a lot sweeter.

“Hello?...Hey mom!”

Mira immediately, almost reflexively, covers her mouth with one of her hands as she closes her eyes and stifles her bumbling laughter, her smile nearly breaks from behind her cupped left hand as her chest undulates with erratic breaths and contractions of her esophagus.

Anthony looks up and over to her face as she opens her eyes again, waving his hand around up and down signaling her to cease the noise she’s making. Mira can’t stop smiling and brings her hand’s index finger up to her right eyebrow, rolling it around seeming overwhelmed by being entertained beyond belief. She tilts her head back and fails to contain her grin as she looks down past her nose to regard Anthony as he continues his conversation.

“Yeah, I’m good, everything’s going great…No, I didn’t check the text conversation, is it tomorrow?”

“Hey…” Mira whispers, her top row of teeth pushed against her lower lip, indicating she’s suddenly having way too much fun, “tell her I said hi…”

He continues, but now holding an index finger to his mouth, trying in vain to silence the giant girl, “What? No, I can still go, but I have to be home by six, I have a lot of work to do.”

Mira rolls her eyes and smiles wider before licking her lips preparing, once again, to do something slightly naughty.

Mira looks down at Anthony as he is faced perpendicular to her chest, his gaze off to her side looking away, she says in a partially raised voice, not quite at her normal volume, with a giddy look in her eyes,

“Hey, is it your mom? Tell her I said hi!”

Anthony spins on his heel and shoots her a look of anger and one of shattered deception, making his free hand into a bear claw of fingers, his mom of course reacting in the predictable manner Mira had hoped.

“What? Oh yeah, that was just my friend…Yeah we were just doing some psych homework…Yes, this late at night mom.” Anthony wipes his face guiltily at his abhorrent attempt at formulating a lie, it was even more frail than he had anticipated when his mother had easily called him out on it without skipping a beat. Turning again to regard Mira he fired her a glare as he continued talking with his parent on the line, the beautiful girl in response, throwing him a wink and chewing on her lower lip with a smile as she always did in these situations.

“Yeah, I’ll see if she can come…Yes, yes, I will ma… Yeah, tell dad I said hi…”

He was wrapping things up now Mira could see, and every blood vessel flowing through her body was excited with eager anticipation. The inhuman girl had taken what she had for cards just now and played them in the exact order needed to take the entire game, stacking the odds in her favor as if she were the dealer herself. She waited for him to finish, and as he did so, she knew she had played a royal flush based on his reaction alone.

“Alright, love you too…See you tomorrow…Mhm, bye!”

Anthony hung up the call and sagged his arm with the phone in its hand, bringing his other to his face and rubbing the top of his head sighing with the heaviest of exhalations. He groaned out as he stammered under his breath, Mira’s objective obviously accomplished with her little comment.

The inch tall man looked up and over to his roommate, gorgeous as ever and excitedly awaiting his response.

“She says hi…Also, you’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yeah, you’ve said that before,” she says trying not to laugh and watching him shake his head back and forth in disbelief.

“So,” she began again quietly, a cute smile on her face showing that she was entirely pleased with herself, Anthony turning back up to regard her as she spoke, “What are we doing tomorrow?”

Mira stirred groggily, rolling onto her side and nearly growling at the window for allowing blindingly bright light into her room, washing her and most of her bed in a shine of off yellow. She groaned and shifted in her blankets, tossing her covers around and away as she stretched her elegant body, her hair a mess and her pretty face plastered with a desire to return to dreamland.

The young woman sat up, scratching her head and placing her feet onto the floor of her bedroom's soft carpet, over the last few days the polished nails having been nicked and roughly rubbed off in some places, needing to be touched up or redone altogether. She was leaning over, her long flowing strands of brown hair cascading in front of and to each side of her head, the gorgeous glitter of her natural color vibrant and full of life. Mira tossed the loose groups of unkempt hair up and behind her skull as she looked to the ceiling, closing her eyes and sighing with a sound like abject reluctance for the new day, wishing she never had to work a day more in her life.

The grouchy demon girl really wasn't a morning person, she never had been, and especially recently she'd been forced to go into work earlier and earlier, despite having input her availability to indicate she couldn't come in before 10 AM. She hated dawn in particular; she really couldn't stand the brightness of the breaking sunrise, though whether it was curiously something to do with her dark second nature or just her own displeasure, she could not be sure. Nor did she care.

Mira finally pushed herself up, standing to her feet and unsteadily taking her first few steps of the day, making it to the door of her room and walking through it, the relative darkness of the windowless hallway greeting her in contrast to the vibrant gleam of her secluded personal space at the back of the apartment. She yawned with an adorable exhalation that came out like the soft mating call of an animal much smaller and much less dangerous than herself, swallowing uncomfortably afterward, her dry mouth needing a drink of water to really get her body functioning properly again due to being inactive for the hours of the short night.

The woman passed the open doorway to the bathroom, sunlight coming through the rectangular, non-translucent window placed near the ceiling above the shower, temporarily causing her to recoil from its enthusiastic welcome. Her eyelids closed, shielding her brown orbs from the obnoxious blast of early light as her left hand came up to block it as well.

She took another step, as always, completely heedless of what may reside on the floor beneath the merciless trod of her soles, but as she took her stride's next advance, something happened that stabbed a needle of agony into the soft walls of her twisted heart. She hadn't at any point checked to see what time it was, and all she knew was that it was morning, and as her careless step completed, she was struck with terror as she remembered someone else, who was afflicted with a total reduction in height, shared her living space.

The skin of Mira's foot had contacted the carpet, individual fibers of the tiny artificial forest pleasing her senses as they gave way, trying and failing to resist her comparatively incomprehensible weight, but with this careless step, a sound accompanied the footfall, and to Mira's horror, the tiniest hint of a meaningless crunch barely tickled her skin.

In an instant, in less time than it takes for her heart to beat one powerful thump, Mira was wide awake, coherent, aware, and now suddenly, gripped by the icy fingers of pure, overwhelming panic. Her breath lurched in her throat, her eyes, widening with a terror and fear that threatened to supersede her reason, rising to the tip of a pointed glacier comprised entirely of dread and trepidation.

Mira's mouth fell open as her lower lip began to quiver, tears welling up in her eyes as they refused at first to look down to where she'd placed her foot carelessly on the floor, her entire body now, completely frozen in shock and distressed denial. She trembled as her breath came out of her parted lips, she began slowly starting to shake all around, the fingers of both her hands extending fully then curling back into fists as if she was hesitant to move even them. Tears flowed down her cheeks as her lips finally forced together, both, however, curling backwards in crippling anxiety, her eyes red and jittery, hesitantly panning down to her floor and to where her step had fallen.

The panicking woman gritted her teeth and began to heave breaths to and fro, the anticipation of discovering the horrid results of her idiotic irresponsibility clawing tears and trenches across her mental composure.

She had killed Anthony. She had done it, it had taken a while but it had finally happened, every sweet and unforgettable memory and moment between the pair was all for nothing, and now he was gone forever, never to return. She had ended the life of the only person other than her mother she had ever cared about, and the worst thing about that fact was that it was entirely by accident, and it was her own disregard for his safety that had lead her prospect for love to this grizzly end. There was no way he could be alive, his body must be crushed utterly beneath the firmer top of her sole that connected to her toes, the tiny, unmistakable pop at the end of his minuscule form's resistance accompanying the untold pressure of her body's unforgiving, uncaring weight.

Mira wanted to close her eyes, she wanted to believe this was all a disgusting nightmare that she hadn't yet woken from, but it wasn't. Mira was awake, she knew that this wasn't all in her head. Though she felt nothing near any form of pleasure, she knew in her heart something was crushed beneath her body, and he was the only other thing in the house small enough. Forcing herself to behold the sight of her ultimate betrayal, she began slowly to roll her foot away, almost gently, as if not to disturb what may remain of the greatest thing ever to happen to her in her short, revolting life. She began to shake her head, a tear dropping loose from her face and landing somewhere on the ground, he was nothing but paste now, sweet, loving Anthony who had dared to rescue Mira from herself was now dead under her sole like an ant on the sidewalk.

As the curve of her foot came away, tears rolled freely as she felt her heart dropping lower and lower, down and away from what she had always wanted to be, back to where the monster inside her resided, promising her she was never going to be anything but. She had to see him though, she wanted the pain to overtake her, Mira even prayed that the agony of her failure and loss would punish her on its own and kill her for the unspeakable act of disloyalty she'd just committed.

She knew she deserved it. Anthony had trusted her, with more and more each day as time had gone on, and she'd destroyed that faith in one single step of her stupid, irresponsible, casual stride. Fire burned in her chest, not the warm care of affection nor the sweet whisper of love, but the savage inferno of hatred, the unstoppable blaze of complete disgust for herself, growing each second, boiling her blood.

At last, as her vision was unimpeded, and she stammered out a silent realization in disbelief, now finally overcome with far too much emotional tonnage. Her eyes widened and beheld her victim far below, crushed utterly to nothing like sand on a beach.

It was…. It was a potato chip… It wasn't Anthony crushed down beneath her gaze, the smashed bits of fried, flavored starch cracked into tiny specks of grouped remains, a small amount still stuck to Mira underfoot. She hadn't killed him, she breathed out frantically. He wasn't dead. The sudden mistaken murder had all, however, proven to be just a little too much for poor Mira to handle. Her usual strong, powerful mental fortress of thoughts and emotions began to crumble to ashes with each passing instant of psychological turmoil. She couldn't bear the thought of losing Anthony, and just now, she had thought that not only he'd be gone forever, leaving her alone again, but that she had been at fault for bringing that to reality.

She exhaled sharply, erratically, and fell back immediately against the wall of the hallway, sliding down it to the floor to sit on her butt with her legs bent out in front of her in a crumpled, distraught heap. She sat in the feeble position and began to sob, a combination of relief and total, complete, sorrow releasing with every breath of her lungs. Mira's head dipped and she let it fall into her knees, wrapping her arms around them and covering herself as if to fend off a childhood fear she'd never managed to defeat in all the years of the past.

Just as she did so, Anthony rounded the corner of the hallway entrance, normal sized and unharmed, and when he did, Mira's head raised with a gasp as her eyes shoot up to his, full of tears, and looking like they'd never known anything their entire life but grief. His look was clearly surprised and full of concern, his mouth slightly opened and no words coming out at first as his eyes widened with confusion, not entirely understanding the situation as it was so vaguely presented before him.

Without a moment passing further and without a single syllable exchanged between them, Mira rose up and dashed over the Anthony with every ounce of speed she possessed, barreling into his chest and nearly knocking him to the ground by the force of her body impacting his own. Her arms wrapped around him as her weight capitulated into his embrace, she pressed her head and face firmly into his torso and began to cry uncontrollably, sobbing with a muffled tone into the muscle of his left side's bare pectoral.

Mira couldn't hold herself up, and as her hands gripped tightly onto Anthony's back, he quickly held her in return, looking over her shoulder and seeing the poor crushed potato chip fragments on the carpet behind them and immediately understanding the source of his roommate's distress. The young man felt her body go limp, completely defeated by the trauma of the incident, and he carefully lowered her to the ground and shifted to support his back against the wall of the hallway, holding them both up as he sat them to the floor.

Anthony felt Mira's tears running off onto his skin as she let all of her destroyed emotions flow out of her eyes, he placed one of his hand on the back of her head and cradled her in his arms, slowly rocking her back and forth as a mother would a crying infant. He gathers the will at last to speak to her, his heart deeply shaken at the first sight of her this morning, laminating as if death had truly come for one of them, removing them from life forever.

"Shhh," he whispers softly to her, the sobbing she's begun not slowing or quieting, "Shhh, its ok, I gotcha, its ok…"

Mira glances up at Anthony between heaves of air, checking with his eyes to confirm what he's saying as he shifts them downward to look at her, but the instant she does so she hides her face back into his torso and groans beneath more crying. Looking up to the ceiling and closing his eyelids, overwhelmed himself by the drastic change in his lovely friend's demeanor, the man holding her pats her back lightly reassuring her that everything is as he says, and is going to be ok. Mira's male roommate lowers his chin and puts it onto the top of her head, squeezing her body tightly to his as he does so. He can't allow her to be like this, he can palpably feel her sorrow as if it's a physical object pressing down hard on both of them as the seconds tick slowly on. He continues supportively comforting her and reassuring her that the nightmare of accidentally crushing him beneath her foot isn't real, and that he's still very much alive.

He whispers to her again, despite his tendency to latch on to one phrase or set of words, he doesn't know exactly what else to say really, but to her, he correctly assumes it doesn't actually matter.

"Shhh, I gotcha… You're alright… Everything's ok. I promise."

Mira swallowed hard and started to calm after a few minutes of tender cuddling, her love interest stroking her head softly, rubbing her back lightly with his fingers, and applying in every way a physically assuring touch that succeeded in soothing her trembling body. She sighed heavily, her breathing coming back down to normal, her heart rate to his relief returning to a more stable rhythm. The two sat together in silence for a minute or two, huddled for comfort, not exactly pressured to separate in any timely fashion.

Mira finally sighed heavily, the salted release of her eyes almost dry on her cheeks and Anthony's right chest muscle.

"I thought….I thought you were gone again…I thought I ruined everything…Again."

"No, no…" The man says quietly down to her, not looking at her face, as she hasn't glanced up yet either.

"It was just a chip Mira, its ok, everything's gonna be alright." He pauses for a half second, knowing where to respond next, "I trust you. You won't ruin anything. I know you're going to take care of me…And no matter what," he does now shift his head to look down at her, Mira's stare rising to instinctively find his. As the beautiful woman's face tilts up, Anthony puts each of his hands on one of her cheeks, taking his thumbs and carefully wiping her eyes of tears, "I'll always be here for you."

Mira closes her eyes reflexively with an accompanied sigh, the words caressing the shattered pieces of her soul, mending her composure as they resonate within her mind. Anthony truly cares about her, no matter what she's done in life or to the lives of others. Mira can't begin to understand how, but right now, just as the bright sunlight of the early morning had tried to warm her savage heart, she doesn't care, Mira just wants Anthony's warmth. She puts her head back against his torso, resting it over the beating of his heart, the pumping muscle healthy and strong, not a dream, and most definitely full of life. The sound of its low thumping relaxes Mira, the heart that beats for her is so close to where her lips are she wishes she could just kiss its surface with a silent thank you for allowing her to reside inside. Anthony puts his hands back to where they were previously, and continues to cradle his inhuman partner with support, he says to her, the mood now a little lighter, a small offering of humor to check to be sure she's back to her old self.

"You should probably call into work, we both woke up late, and I was on my way to knock on your door…"

Mira groans and sinks down again, this time supremely annoyed that she has to use her second to last sick day because of this nonsense, but understanding completely there's no way she'd be able to function correctly at the store should she try to go in.

The girl shakes her head and comes to realize now that the tumultuous event of the morning has concluded, that she's been incredibly uncharacteristic of her usual behavior and demeanor. She doesn't want Anthony to think less of her, and although it's very clear he doesn't at this point, she also wants to be sure the usually spunky human doesn't get funny ideas about who's still in charge…so she quickly reminds him, the only way she knows how.

"Anthony," she mutters up to him, her voice deceptively vulnerable.

"Yeah?"

"If you ever…" She pauses between sentences to maximize her intended points of intimidation, "tell anyone about this…Ever!" She stops, now looking up to him with her eyes keen like viper's fangs locking onto his, revealing her mouth's teeth pushed together with a snarled corner of her lips raised as she growls out, "I'll fucking tear your tiny limbs off with my fingers one at a time, and let you bleed out..."

Anthony stammers and pauses unintentionally, his thoughts grappling with Mira's sincere, nightmarishly violent threat, and hesitating to say anything next. Usually, things like this don't bother the half-human girl, but she does genuinely get angry at times when presented with displays of weakness, and this happens to be one of those instances.

Mira keeps his eyes stuck in her stare as she quickly reaches up, practically without a thought, and firmly grips Anthony's injured right shoulder, the tender muscle of his bruised blade softly resisting as her fingers squeeze down hard, intentionally trying to emphasize a point that assures him she wasn't bluffing by associating it with pain.

Anthony grunts sharply and groans out roughly with eyes wide but brows angled down, as Mira's fingertips press into the firm but sensitive skin of his discolored bruise. She notices, though not exactly intending to, that the both of them share another similarity in common, something she finds momentarily very interesting and in a way also extremely attractive; they both respond with anger when exposed to pain.

"Mother fuc-" Anthony starts to growl out through teeth that have been clamped together, he reacts as Mira has predicted, though not to how he had honestly anticipated he would behave given the situation. The young man reflexively raises his opposite arm and moves preparing to put up a struggle, but before he can, the young woman hops her lower body onto his pelvis and pins him against the wall behind him, turning his arm that's trying to resist away and gripping his neck with her free hand, squeezing it with peculiar, unnatural strength.

She says angrily down to him, unaffected by his attempts to try and fight her off.

"Say you won't tell a soul! SAY IT!"

Anthony tried to push her off with his lower body, but she was sitting her weight on his midriff, and there was no way he could articulate himself or maneuver in such a way that would shove her into imbalance. To make matters worse, she had her ankles locked together beneath his abdomen, making it virtually impossible for him to topple the woman from her superior physical position. Where this apparent skill at wrestling suddenly came from was a complete mystery to Anthony as he put up a futile resistance, and it momentarily made him wonder what she was truly capable of.

Mira was indeed a little angry at Anthony's earlier show of weakness, but as she watched her pet roommate struggle against her, even at his normal size, she felt a wash of pleasure tease her senses. Anthony was full of fire, feisty, and defiant at times, and in those specific ways, she found him tantalizingly irresistible.

"Alright," he labored to blurt out, his throat being constricted by her dark, decorated digits, "Alright! I won't tell anyone, Jesus!"

Mira held his neck in place for a bit longer and waited to see if he was going to continue further, his eyes looking rebellious, but his body betraying its true defeat. She shoved his neck backward and released him just after, pushing home her current emotions that conveyed she was not at all joking.

The pair looks at each other for what seems like minutes, but in reality, it is nothing more than a few seconds, the tension of what Mira had done before, and after being comforted, still fresh in their minds. Anthony reflected, that ever since meeting his gorgeous roommate, he could tell that she was of an unmistakably dominant personality, something that he too was occasionally guilty of, but definitely not to the degree Mira was. He was split, for the most part, at about ninety percent submissive, and then ten percent more preferable towards being in control, but when he was in the mood for it or forced to be, he could become very aggressive. His inhuman friend, however, was just about the polar opposite, and while he couldn't tell at all if she even had a portion of her entire being that desired to be oppressed, he could feel a strange, almost primal urge to find out, and then exploit it.

As the thoughts bubble around, Anthony notices Mira's demeanor alter slowly, from angry and somewhat hostile, to almost even more worryingly, playfully seductive.

He raises an eyebrow as Mira tilts her head back and places her palms open and flat onto his bare chest, her fingertips caressing him lightly, as she starts to wobble her pleasantly wide hips in a deliberately slow, gradual circle, her generously proportioned back end rubbing against his pelvis as well as something else, something incredibly vital. As she loves to do, she winks down at him, curling and chewing on her lower lip apparently sensing the beginning of his arousal, her sudden change of mood surprising him as well as taking him completely off guard.

Anthony stammers out as his face cascades a deep red, quickly and embarrassingly shifting himself around and trying to toss Mira off, her smile growing with his obvious discomfort.

"H-hey! Get the hell off of me, Lamia!"

She giggles down to him and leans her face over to his, trying and succeeding to tickle his skin with her excited fingers as they dance along his exposed pectorals.

"Aww, but why? What's the matter Anty? Afraid a little demon like me might corrupt a boring little angel like you...Afraid you might even like it?"

Anthony barks out, the reason behind why he's suddenly nervous in fact couldn't be farther from the truth,

"You were the one who wanted to draw the line at roommates!" he practically shouts up to her, face still bright red and warm.

"What? We aren't even doing anything!..." She takes a momentary pause and bounces her backside up and down on his hips, the soft makings of her posterior undulating with the shake of gravity, reminiscent of a common position of intimacy, "Yet…"

As Mira starts to chuckle in response to Anthony's suddenly wide eyes, he's shocked into action at last with her final statement that is dangerously close to escalating things further. Pushing her hard by the shoulders he shoves her off his body, tumbling her softly to the floor, though this time she allows his strength to move her away, separating the two before things can get more serious. The attractive woman tumbles onto her back next to him as she's laughing fully now, no longer trying to contain herself, the top of her head close to his hip, upside down to his point of view. Anthony has continuously proved himself to be not just worth of her affection, but deserving of it, and just now having done a good job at comforting her in the most troubling time she could remember since her mother passed away, she feels he's earned a lot more attention than usual. As her smile fades and she contains her excited humor, she looks up and over to him batting her eyelashes, placing her legs together at the knees slightly angle up off the ground, ankles separated and facing opposite one another, like a poster girl for a lewd photoshoot, alluring and sensual. Mira places her arms over her head and into Anthony's lap, the tank top of her torso lifting from her waist and revealing the smooth, pristine curves of her toned abdomen, the skin healthy and glowing.

Anthony's breath catches near the top of his throat as he fights to force down his rising attraction, he can't tear his eyes away from Mira's divine appearance, her body is elegant beyond his wildest dreams, from the color of her hair, to the soles of the feet that have already felt the near irresistible warmth of his death. The female demonette starts to rock her hips again, back and forth this time as they lay casually on the carpet of the floor, tempting their lone male audience's urges for satisfaction, teasing his sense of reason and testing the young man's mental capacity for physical restraint.

Mira's reaches up slowly with one of her hands as the back of its black nailed index finger comes up to gently stroke his left cheek, whispering out to him as she does so, her voice, thin but passionate, like smooth honey diluted with blood,

"What's the matter, my little lover boy? Am I not good enough for you?" she said asking a question she knew was complete and utter nonsense, Anthony taking the obvious bait, replying predictably of course.

"OK! Yup! Nope, nope!" he babbled out raising his voice, rolling out and away from her, at first wanting to stand but unable to due to the fixation her unnerving stare always held over him, the brown gleam of her eyes never letting him go. "That's enough, Mira! You're amazing, really," he responded out nervously, "but we can't! We're not eve-"

She cut him off, still whispering, and rising to her hands and knees, slowly trotting over to where his body was set against the back of the couch, his torso resting against the fabric of the long seat.

"We're not even, what? Together? …That's what you think…" The seductive voice of the female came as she took small, exaggerated advances on her palms and knees, the form of her back end covered but also clearly outlined in her relaxing pants, wagging side to side as she grew ever closer.

Anthony's voice was trapped in either his thoughts or his lungs as he recoiled slightly, lower jaw down, Mira making her way to his legs and continuing further, her face arriving before his own, her eyes staring sharply into his soul and reading him just as easily as she would text on the parchment of a book. She was smiling and while her male roommate was clearly nervous, she could see that he was trying to resist enjoying himself, and he was breathing harder like she was.

Mira leaned her head to Anthony's right ear and lowered her voice as if trying to hide her words from the rest of the world, the syllables coming out like the promise of an inescapable lion to a scared mouse caught in its massive paw.

"You're mine, insect…You...Belong...To me... I own you."

The sounds of each word brushed Anthony's skin as they left Mira's sensual lips, the statements and their finality nearly coated in the dark inevitability of a planet witnessing itself being devoured by a black hole. Mira brought her eyes back to her pet's as she stared silently into them, as if somehow she could read what was behind them within his mind. Strangely, almost insanely even, Anthony found that when she said these things to him…He couldn't help but feel…

Crunch.

The pair both blinked in unison, the audible crack and crinkle of what sounded like a small leaf breaking just off towards the doorway of the apartment, bringing them back to reality with the noise. The couple stops immediately and looks over together to the wall of the living room, both their heads turning and taken entirely surprised by what they find. Only about five feet away, resting against the white paint of the apartment's walls, was the towering monster of a familiar man dressed in colorless black and eyes the shade of a new sun.

Crunch.

The demon covered in tribal tattoos, with its mouth unnaturally long and curved upwards in a disturbing smile, placed a single, individual potato chip onto is tongue that rolled out like the forked muscle of a large monitor lizard. The salted, fried snacks were of the same variety as the one Mira had stepped on earlier, mistaking the death of the round chip fragment for the demise of her life's most special member. They were, without a doubt, a brand and flavor she had never purchased in her entire life.

The tall being simply gazed over at the two young adults who were interlocked in a curiously exciting position, and as it did so, it met each of their own, surprised and confused stares in turn, making exaggerated motions of its jaw as it chewed its snacks.

"What?" it breathed out, with a tone drenched in sarcastic humor, but taking on a voice like two tectonic plates grinding together as it placed a final chip onto its tongue.

Crunch.

+ + + + +

The weights clanked again for a second time, the round metal 45lb plates impacting together with a satisfying retort as Anthony raised the standard Olympic bar up with his arms extended, his form perfect, and his muscles burning with blood. Kyle hung overhead, watching quietly and keeping a close eye on his best friend's energy and stamina as he neared his fourth repetition, typically the limit of his output given his current threshold for weight. Anthony dipped the bar down and grunted lowly as he forced himself to slowly inch the bar upwards a fifth time, going beyond his usual efforts. Kyle began to reach down to help his buddy raise the weight back up and set in down onto its retaining handles, but stopped as soon as he saw Anthony manage to heft the weight above the required level for a final rep.

As the brown haired man held up the bar, Kyle at last grabbed onto the gnarling of the metal pole's frame and pulled it over to the curved resting arms. Placing it down with a clank of steel on steel, Anthony panted and quickly rose to sit up, his body red and covered in a sheen of sweat, finishing his sets of bench press.

"Had me worried for a second there thugger, you should really tell me before you plan on doing stuff like that," Kyle laughed out with a smile, trying again as he did a few minutes ago to coax his friend into conversation.

"In fact, that could apply to just about everything you've done since Friday buddy boy."

Anthony looked over to Kyle as he rested his arms on the bench's now idle weight bar, hunched over and looking at him with a smile and narrowed eyes as his own body's triceps and chest screamed red hot.

"So when are you gonna tell me how it went man?! Seriously, what's with the stone cold shoulder?"

Kyle wasn't upset at not yet knowing how things between Anthony and Mira had gone over the weekend, he was quite the opposite in fact, eager and excited, albeit in his own ridiculous way. Unfortunately, the afflicted human just didn't have his story straight as of yet, and as it had been obvious before as always, Kyle had a talent for seeing through Anthony's attempts at dishonesty should he try and lie.

The taller man at last sighed and began to speak after wiping his brow of salted liquid. He scratched at his left ear as he started to reluctantly recount the entirety of the events transpired thus far, though as vaguely as possible, intentionally trying to leave out some fairly intense details.

"I thought it went really well actually…All things considered… We went back to her place after the game, and we hung out for a while, worked on some psychology," and that surely wasn't a lie, they had indeed crossed a psychological border he felt even his college professor couldn't begin to understand, and boy had it been something.

"We had dinner one night, and had a good time hanging out last night, what else do you want to know?"

Kyle offered both his open hands, pointed in Anthony's direction with a raised eyebrow, as if preparing to beg for a detail his best friend had left out.

"Ok, so what's up, did you guys…I mean….You know?" Kyle began, partially nervously and putting the rest of his sentence down delicately.

"What?" Anthony replied innocently, reflecting on about 500 inappropriate things Kyle could be alluding to that happened between the pair.

"You guys make babies?" Kyle said without ceremony, tired of beating around the bush, but still refusing to let his humor fizzle out.

"What? No! No, we just hung out man," Kyle's adoptive brother stammered out while shaking his head and waving around a dismissive hand. He was a little embarrassed at the question, and though he tried to act like he didn't know why, it was obvious to him that it was because he was fiercely attracted to his new roommate, and that was an event he admitted he wanted to transpire...at some point.

"Nah, she's not like that dude, we only met like a month ago, and we're still getting to know each other."

Ignoring most of Anthony's reply, Kyle chimed in with something that actually made a whole lot of sense, even though it wasn't an entirely random shot in the dark by his experienced friend.

"Well, you better be careful with her man, she's definitely gonna be a rough one, my dude. That much is clear."

"A Rough one?" thought the young man in his head curiously. What did Kyle mean by that? Physically intimate? Emotionally? Or what? Anthony cast his gaze around as if to be sure no one was in earshot, despite the college gym bustling with activity inside and out. He leaned over slightly towards the blonde young man standing off to his side at the head of the bench, and then lowered his voice as if to ask an uncomfortable question.

"You think she's really like that, what do you mean?" Asked the sitting man, though he was entirely aware of one possible answer, grimly so in fact, he instead decided to test and see if Kyle could actually offer some helpful advice on how to manage or incorporate into a relationship, a girl that had some more aggressive tastes like Mira. The pair were of essentially equal age, but unlike Anthony, Kyle was far less shy about putting himself out into the dating world, and had been marginally successful the last few years romantically because of that. It was interesting, however, that most of the time the green-eyed jokester had commented that friends of his own that were women, always found Anthony to be the better looking and more interesting of the two. Despite this, however, blondie was much more versed in the strange ways and tactics of romanticism, which now were finally proving to be somewhat useful.

"Definitely," Kyle replied flatly, "With her man, you're gonna need to challenge her at some point, you can't let her walk all over you all the time."

Anthony practically cursed out loud without intending to at the point Kyle was making, why did everything that came out of everyone's mouth have to be a screwed up inside joke about Anthony's ordeal, even when someone who wasn't privy to the joke spoke?

"You want to prove to her that you're worth her time, but you can't topple her over off her throne my dude. I mean, you could try that, though I wouldn't recommend it simply because she may not react well to that, that and I'm like %99.99 sure you couldn't do it anyways. Mira seems pretty hardcore."

Some of this discussion was actually adding up to a situation Anthony could comprehend, things, specifically Kyle's choices in terminology, weren't entirely the same, but the circumstances themselves seemed to line up. This was all very interesting, and while Anthony listened he couldn't help but notice Kyle had already made an initial assessment of his new love interest, something that didn't worry him necessarily, but instead something he sought to take advantage of given his less experienced history.

"Wait. Why does she seem hardcore to you? How do you know that?" He wanted to know because his friend was right for the most part, and that meant he might be able to make accurate judgments about other helpful things involving Mira or the situation altogether.

Kyle made a face that seemed to undercut the question, lowering his eyelids and sagging his shoulders, as if the answer was completely obvious.

"Because dude, she's sweet and innocent, she obviously has a darker side. She's probably into like, BDSM or something else weird. She'll want to tie you down and put an apple in your mouth the second she gets you alone, mark my words, man."

Anthony just stared over at Kyle for a few seconds in contemplation; it was genuinely frightening how accurate of an impression his best friend had come up within such a short time, and though it was proving useful, he wondered how Kyle had gotten so good at understanding or reading things like this. The sitting man almost wanted to just nod and confess that he was entirely, exactly, correct because of how impressive his assessment truly was. Mira had one hell of a dark side. And Kyle was totally right, he had barely lasted a few minutes as a tiny on her kitchen floor before she had proceeded to try and satisfy herself with him, though not precisely the way Kyle had imagined.

Seeing that maybe he was getting somewhere with Anthony, or perhaps just encouraged by his nonexistent counterpoints, Kyle continued further, trying his best to have any form of input on the matter.

"You're gonna need a safe words dude, seriously, start thinking of a few right now and bring that shit up as soon as you see I'm right. You'll thank me. You have any idea how much I wish someone had had this talk with me when I tried dating a crazy chick? Would have saved me a lot of trouble in the long run, bro."

The idea of a safe word…Anthony had truly never thought of that. It was a strangely exciting and somewhat even fun idea, he could feel in the last few days tastes for certain types of kinks and pleasures that he knew he hadn't been susceptible to before, and now that he'd met someone who was, shall we say, very experienced in his new specific form of fetish, the prospects were oddly thrilling. He was, of course, worried that Mira wasn't ready for some kind of play that was so extreme, and he decided inwardly that he'd bring the idea up to her at a later time after they'd grown closer, and more comfortable with her dangerous urges. Though this prospect for violence at the cost of appeasement worried Anthony, he wanted regardless to be conscious of her needs, everyone had them, even himself, but he cared particularly for Mira and endeavored to be sure she was satisfied and happy whenever he could.

"I'll keep that in mind, man." Anthony said nodding and conveying thanks, it was a useful bit of information after all, and it could possibly lead to something that could actually help the new, not so official couple.

"By the way, are you coming today? To my cousin's birthday party?" The young man shifts the conversation, not out of discomfort, just trying to progress it forward into something more normal.

"Yeah, and I'm bringing Allison too. Are you bringing Mira?"

"Allison?" Anthony blinked and raised an eyebrow. The mention of the pair's mutual high school acquaintance seemed to suddenly make Kyle both excited, and somehow simultaneously anxious. Anthony hadn't been as close to her as his best friend had been, truthfully he knew precious little about her aside from her looks and the small glimpses he'd of her personality throughout their previous years sharing a couple of classes.

"So are you two hooking up or is this just as casual thing?"

"No, we're still just friends and I think it's gonna stay that way at least for now. But she's a good friend, and she was free, so when I mentioned it to her she asked if she could tag along."

Anthony nodded and began to rise, as he did so his phone buzzed in his pocket again, and he tried not to frantically extract it from his shorts, despite the excitement he felt each time it did so. He pulled it out consciously trying to seem casual and nonchalant, unlocking it and reading Mira's message as Kyle continued on. Mira was finishing up at work, having earlier decided it was better to be a little late than use up one of her last sick days in what was obviously a bid to skip going in. They were talking casually, she was bemoaning her current task of doing returns, and he was teasing her with the idea of sending her a selfie of his current appearance, something she wasn't reacting rising to take the bait of just yet.

"Have you taken her out yet?" Kyle asked, removing the metal clips from the side of the bench bar.

"No, but I'm working on that. I figured the party might be a decent segway into something like that because she had the idea of coming today too."

Kyle thumps him with an open hand on the shoulder, trying to reassure him that everything Anthony is going through is pretty normal, at least given typical, human standards and understanding.

"She's totally into you man, don't sweat it, it's gonna be no problem."

As Kyle went about unloading the bar to set himself up for his proper weight set, Anthony stood and began to reflect on what they'd talked about, his mind drifted away as he wiped his upper lip with the back of his hand. Everything Kyle had said was correct, Mira was, frighteningly intoxicated with the brown-haired man, and he in turn with her. Knowing for sure that their mutual attraction was in good health, he really wanted to focus on the idea of not just trying to help curb her unorthodox desires, but appease them in kind. There had to be a way to do that without dying or ending up horribly maimed, and as Anthony stood in silence watching his best friend, who had for once given him some sound advice, he began to plan ways to take care of Mira, and simultaneous satisfy both their particular tastes.

+ + + +

Anthony poked letters on his phone while he sat patiently on Mira's couch, the familiar plushness of the cushions keeping him relaxed and comfortable as down the hall the door to the bathroom was shut, music coming from behind the thin particleboard of the closed entrance. The young man had flipped through social media, essentially already completing his casual stalking of Mira's, short, rather vague and unpopulated profile, and now read of politics, world events, and other random tidbits of interesting news that peaked his curiosity.

It was just about 2:30 PM, and the short drive to the park would only take about twenty minutes, so Anthony was content with being mostly on schedule for getting to the smaller family gathering for his young cousin's birthday. He was, truth be told, a little nervous about taking Mira, especially given her rather enthusiastic desire to make an appearance. He knew she was probably just excited to take one more, albeit completely unrequested, step towards being his official significant other, but there was something inherently nerve-racking about taking a half-demon woman, who had killed even himself already, to a gathering of some of the closest people in his life. She was trustworthy, and he was confident she wouldn't do anything to hurt anybody, but he could already hear the inside jokes she'd make, see the uncomfortable look Kyle would probably give her, and feel the embarrassment of explaining to his parents why they hadn't gotten wind of his new prospective love interest.

Anthony was, however, no matter how nervous his bones were, admittedly excited. This was almost like a date between the two, and ever since Mira had alluded to his death being somehow a type of romantic private time, he had truly hungered for a genuine evening with her in the typical, nonviolent form of the scenario.

The young man was wearing a white button-down shirt with a black contrasting tribal chest design and blue jeans, trying to appear more casual but slightly cleaned up for the purpose of seeing family, which while it happened not unregularly, he always wanted to be conscious of looking a little better than his usual for.

The bathroom door clicked open as the music in the small washroom ceased, the light came off as Anthony's roommate came walking down the hall, carrying a small make-up mirror opened and reflecting her elegant appearance as she fiddled with one of her bangs that was tactfully left to hang down near the corner of left eye. She arrived at the entrance to the hallway and spoke over to Anthony as she held her small white purse, dangling it by her left hand that was turned upwards, the back of her right hand against her hip and her posture conveying a small pose like a practicing model.

"So, how does this look?" She said casually, she herself anxious about his honest opinion, but still very confident she would find him stunning. And he did.

Anthony glanced up and off to his left as his eyes flicked around to the sound of her voice, and when he did so, he felt as if his heart was going to shatter his ribcage. The air caught in his throat as his mouth almost dropped in complete amazement, the young human's eyes unable to restrain their urge to widen and take in every inch of Mira's almost total transformation.

The monster of a girl was beautiful, in every facet of the word, like a brilliant deity who journeyed down from the sky to spend the day on earth playing in the realm of mortals. She wore a simple, knee-length sundress, the purest, milkiest shade of white, as if it were made from the very fibers of ancient Egyptian cotton that wars had been fought over in times before the deaths of gods and goddesses. She was smiling over to him nervously, a tiny tinge of red on her cheeks that was not make-up gracing her skin as she awaited his response. Her lip curled in anticipation, though the look on Anthony's face was easily more than she needed to see he was impressed, she still desperately wanted to be to his liking. The love-struck young man gawked with a crimson flush of his face, he beheld something in this living room of a typical college student's apartment that he'd never seen before anywhere else in his life, not in art, not in the whimsical lyrics of love songs, nor in the passion of eloquent poems. He saw, Mira in a sundress, something far more striking than any of those typical forms of emotional expression, she simply transcended all descriptions of beauty with everything that she was.

"What?" She said out to him trying not to reveal her teeth in a grin, seemingly attempting to retain a measure of modesty.

"I-I…" Anthony tried to begin, "Y-you…" He swallowed hard and started to shake his head, in complete disbelief as he let his eyes bask in her divinity.

"I'm what?" She whispered over to him, trying to help his speech along a track that she knew he was struggling to take; her eyes shining brightly as she brought her purse to the front of her torso and let it hang from both hands, placing both arms on either side of her bust that was covered conservatively by the dress.

"You're…Um…" he stammered and licked his lips, with visible effort forcing his mind to command his vocal cords.

"It's ok…I won't bite…" she said in a low voice that held her typical manner of humor, something that at this present time calmed Anthony, allowing him to finally spit out what he was wanting desperately to say to her.

"You're beautiful, Mira. Just… beautiful." Anthony muttered out in a whisper back to the nervously awaiting woman, whose mouth at last revealed a pearly white grin as she glanced bashfully down with a small giggle, simultaneous stroking some of her hair behind her ear with one hand.

The young woman in white glanced back up containing her elation at his overwhelming infatuation, taking slow steps over to him in her light brown sandals until she made it to beside the couch. She reached over with her right hand, and carefully moved it closer to his cheek, intending to gauge his reaction to such an intimate moment as it built up between the two beating hearts.

Mira's hand delicately, as if he were made of sand she didn't want to disturb, stroked his skin as his eyes stayed locked inside her stare. The girl felt, as her fingertips held his cheek without moving, the warmth of his soul, and the sweetness of his innocent heart. The just looked at one another, the emotions of rising passion sharing their thoughts without being verbalized, the pulses of each other's bodies beginning to sync up without instruction. Mira and Anthony, though they did not know it, both equally wanted this moment to continue for longer than could conceivably be recorded.

However, they were now running late for a party in the park, and they hadn't gotten dressed up for nothing.

"Come on," Mira said with a smile down to Anthony, lightly tapping his face with her hand to snap him out of his stupor at her behest, "we're gonna be late, and I want to make a good first impression."

The sitting young man nodded and shook his head, broken from the trance that Mira unintentionally had him under as they each enjoyed the more formal attire of their opposite partner.

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely. We can still make it on time, and I'm sure they won't mind if we're a tiny bit late, anyways."

He stood and patted around his pockets apparently not finding something important, then checking around the couch he blurted out as if worried about Mira's response, the woman not slowing as she walked over and opened the front door.

"Hey, uh, I can't find my keys…"

As soon as the words left Anthony's lips he turned and looked up, seeing Mira beginning to walk through the entrance to the apartment. Not turning to regard him she held up her left hand playfully, and in between her fingers was the key to his precious Charger, the colorless rectangular alarm remote attached by a metal loop, the same red sport model badge that decorated the black side panel of the car stamped into it proudly.

Anthony returned to the white, metal fold out table as the sounds of eager and excited adolescents called along after him, his two youngest nieces chasing him back over to where he was sitting next to Mira, Kyle, and Allison. The two small girls of about six years old bounced and hopped energetically, asking him frantically to continue wrestling with them in the grass as he had been for the last ten minutes, the smiling young man holding his hands up, waving his open palms down to them in mock surrender.

“No, no! No more!” He said with a smile and laugh, “Uncle Anthony’s all burnt out!”

The little girls pulled and tugged at his arms and his sides, both of the kids blonde and about the same height, full of life, laughter, and the brightest form of happiness imaginable. Anthony glanced over to Mira who caught his eyes for a brief moment, she had her cheek resting on the back of one of her palms as her elbow kept her attention raised up and over to her roommate, a smile on her face as well, as she beheld his adorable, father-like maternity toward his small nieces.

The pair of girls finally were distracted long enough for Anthony to shuffle them away, the two heading excitedly back to some iron playground equipment not far off into the lush green grass, as the rest of the man’s family mingled about and swapped laughs and stories amongst each other all around, his young cousin’s casual party in full swing.

The four young adults sat couple across from couple, the remains of party snacks and food before them on disposable plates along with red solo cups of soda matched up with each table member as they continued to talk.

Mira had held a conversation with Kyle as she watched Anthony play carefully with his young relatives, the two talking about what the pair of them had done recently after the basketball game in the gym, as well as some small pieces of her crush’s backstory.

“You sure do seem popular,” Mira said with a chuckle, sitting back up straight and plucking a few pieces of grass from Anthony’s shirt, as he himself brushed his arms off.

“Yeah, they’re great. They don’t get to see me as much anymore because I don’t babysit them like I used to when I lived back with my parents. They’re always fun when they get together, though.”

Mira spotted a long stalk of grass in her human pet’s hair, narrowing her eyes and trying not to smile as she picked it from his scalp, she flicked it into his face with a toothless smirk she just couldn’t manage hold in.

 
“You’re great with kids,” she said to him as he paused, looking over to her for a second as he then reached for his drink and took a gulp of sugary soda, taking the compliment and enjoying her subtle appreciation for his good-hearted nature.

“So how long have you guys been seeing each other, anyways?” Allison chimed in as she bumped torsos with Kyle casually, for some reason giving off the impression that their pair also, had some form of romantic intent or underlying tone.   

Anthony hesitated for a second, the two hadn’t talked in the ride over about getting the details of their, “relationship,” straight for conversations or questions such as this, and he was slightly startled by the question posed by Kyle’s apparent date. Allison, a friend to Kyle and more of an acquaintance to Anthony, was an inch or so shorter than her male counterpart. Like the jokester, however, she had green emerald eyes and hair bright like the vast, golden, wheat fields of Italy, her straight and well-kept strands of blonde, long and flowing with an appealing glow.

Anthony didn’t know what to make of her, she was quiet but clearly intelligent, whenever she spoke she was smiling, and whatever came out of her mouth, her voice deeper than Mira’s by a few tones, was smart and often to the point. He’d known her, well, of her anyways, throughout the entirety of his high school career, but had never interacted with her more than in simple passing. Allison had been an avid member of several fairly exclusive clubs where they’d gone to school, she had even risen to chapter president at one point of the Future Business Leaders group. She’d also been a successful academic to boot, and played more than a couple of sports, one during just about every season. It was odd to him that they had never really hung out; Kyle had been with or around her a lot during those four years, as he was involved in a lot of physical extracurricular activities that she had been a member of. Anthony had never really gotten to the point of asking if his best friend had ever been interested in her romantically, it never really seemed like it, but of course, he knew, in reality, things like that were always difficult to understand by someone on the outside looking in.

Mira cut ahead as Anthony met her eyes and resigned the answer to the blonde girl’s question to her instinctively, trusting her to always take the lead, take control, or indeed just have a plan in place whenever he did not.

“Well, we’ve only been actually seeing each other just recently, but we met about a month ago,” she had turned to regard the pair awaiting an answer to this all-important question, but as she continued she glanced back to face her pet human continuing while staring at him. “He hadn’t gotten the specifics of our homework one day and he asked me about it as class ended, you should have seen him,” she looks back to Kyle and Allison who are smiling well and truly interested, “he was like an adorable lost puppy, all worked up and nervous about talking to a girl.”

All of the group laughed at the description of the pair’s meeting, all except for Anthony as he rolled his tongue in his mouth blushing, smiling a little despite the embarrassment. Mira had retold the story honestly exactly as it had occurred, and he marveled at her ability to blend fiction and truth, though as he began to realize, he concluded that with the exception pertaining to the exact context of, “seeing each other,” she hadn’t actually lied. Mira had, so far, been completely genuine to the young couple sitting across from them, and also to Anthony’s parents who earlier had a few questions of their own when meeting her. That conversation had been so supremely uncomfortable, and so nerve-racking, that if Mira hadn’t been holding him by the arm and gently caressing him reassuringly with her hand, he probably would have said something harmful or incriminating, entirely by mistake. He hadn’t though, and the party was actually going very well, everyone was having a great time from how things seemed, and he couldn’t wait to get home and talk with Mira about what she thought of everything. He loved the way his new roommate smiled, she seemed happy to be around him and everyone else, and inwardly, he wanted more than anything else to have a million more days just like this.

+    +    +    +    +

Anthony closed the door behind Mira and himself, walking back into the apartment as the pair continued a conversation they had started in the car ride back to his overnight residence.

“Look, all I’m saying is that she’s weird alright,” Mira said in a casual voice, heading over to the couch and tossing her purse to the opposite, matching piece of furniture.

“She came off as strange to me; don’t you feel even remotely the same way?”
The young man rounded the side of the longer couch, sitting down and taking off his shoes as he responded decidedly unconcerned, though trying to display support and understanding.

“Well, I don’t know much about her other than what she was like in school, and she didn’t seem off to me today. What was it about her that made you feel that way?”

Mira glanced down and over to her roommate as she paced her hands on her hips, pausing for a moment and shifting her jaw as if in contemplation. It was obvious to her something wasn't right, as if the sky was painted a different color than blue, but she simply couldn’t describe that color to Anthony, partially because he was human, and partially because she wasn’t completely sure about it either.

“If I tell you, promise not to think I’m weird?” She said without a shred of anxiety, though only because she was very good at hiding it.

Anthony ruffled his brow and nods reassuringly with a quick shrug of his shoulders.

“Yeah, of course.”

Mira turns her head away and narrows her gaze slightly, as if trying to see something far off into the distance away from them. She speaks again, this time quietly.

“…She smelled differently…Different from the rest of you…”

The man slouching on the couch suddenly becomes very curious as Mira sighs and sits across from him, flicking off her sandals and laying her legs over in the direction of Anthony, the soles of her feet displayed before him and her body leaned up against the opposite arm of the seat. The half-human rubs an index finger of her hand against her face as she tries to formulate how to explain that further, Anthony understandably giving a reaction as if he doesn’t know what she means.

“It’s like, I could just tell there’s something off about her. Like she’s not everything she seems,” she says with vague certainty.

There’s a half heartbeat of silence that abruptly brings coldness to the conversation, something that needs to be asked, though is a question few would be comfortable receiving an answer to. Anthony voices what’s on his mind though, hesitantly.

“Do you…Do you mean to say she might be like you?” He asks with a cautious move forward in the conversation.

Mira slowly shakes her head and hasn’t raised her stare to meet his own, still lost in her private thoughts.

“No, she’s different, but I can’t figure out why. She talks normal, acts normal, and even in some ways, “thinks normal,” like I do. She can hide in plain sight, just like I can.”

Anthony shifts his body so that he’s facing directly across from his gorgeous, pseudo-partner, still bedecked in her pristine and mesmerizing attire he’s quickly fallen head over heels for.

“Should we be worried? I mean, just because you never really got into what’s really out there in the world. The black demon-guy seems to be evidence there’s other things that might be a good idea to watch out for.”

The demonette reclines back slightly and gets comfortable, looking now towards the ceiling, considering everything that’s being brought into the discussion.

“I’m not sure. No matter what though, I want you to stay away from her.”

“Well, that’ll be easy,” Anthony says with a chuckle and a smile, looking away, “I didn’t hang out with her in the first place. This is the first time I’ve seen her in a couple of months. We only have one class together and we never talk.”

A thought for some reason rolls slowly into the young man’s mind just then, and as it materializes, he turns his head to regard Mira, expecting her to be looking towards the white popcorned roof still. She’s not, however, and her eyes instead are fixated on his as they are uncomfortably seized the instant they meet.

Anthony is surprised by the look she’s giving him, one that almost says she’s caught him in falsehood.

“W-what?”

Mira hears him, but says nothing, instead tilting her head back what seems like half a degree, staring through his words, his mannerisms, and as he can sense and understand clearly, his silent, unspoken thoughts.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Anthony says defensively, a crack of anxiety forming.

“Like what?” Mira responds flatly, without any unnecessary spice to her words as they leave her lush, feminine lips.

As the pair stare over at each other, that strange earlier thought resurfaces again within the human male’s mind, something that, curiously enough, he doesn’t hesitate nearly as much to finally divulge. 

“Mira…” he starts at a regular voice, then as he continues it drops to a near mutter, “Are you…Jealous?”

The girl sitting across the couch is silent for a second or two, looking over at him without an expression, her face nor eyes betraying anything of her true feelings. Her feet rub up against one another as if to scratch a tiny itch that has arisen from the silence, one leg over the other she thinks about how to answer.

Mira is in fact, totally and genuinely, feeling the blooming blossom of jealousy. Allison is pretty and smart. She seems to have all her life’s ducks in a row, and the woman even seems like she comes from an upper-class, loving, well-off family bloodline. The dark beauty for some reason finds herself comparing her own life and looks to the blonde newcomer, as if sizing up her odds at defeating her in some form of combat later down the line. By human standards, at least in terms of everything besides looks and intelligence, she seems to have Mira bested.  Does something like that threaten her though? No. Truthfully, it really does not. It does, however, threaten Anthony though, and while he’s vulnerable for understandably one half of the day, this Allison, girl, whoever she was, was someone that Mira didn’t trust, either with his life or with him alone.

The half-human girl pondered for a second that this wave of jealousy was something that she’d never experienced before in her life. Mira had never taken to a boy, ever, and she had never dated in any serious context except in the woefully bad few incidents where she needed to in order to snare a victim. She was protective of Anthony, and more and more, given the recent social gathering, she was discovering something new about herself that would only ever come up should she decide, like now, to place her claim on somebody for good; she was territorial.    

“Yes,” she said suddenly, bluntly transparent like the round front end of a brutal warhammer made of glass, “she was looking at you in a way that I didn’t like.”  
Anthony blinked in surprise, taking in her reply. Mira was, to his shock, being very honest about something that could, in some cases, be construed as a weakness of character, and though Anthony understood she was not a person of negative types of self-esteem, he was completely taken aback at her casual admission of an apparent fault.

“Well, I mean, you don’t have to be-“ he began, trying to ease her feelings, but she cut him off.

“You don’t get to tell me what I should and should not be, pest…” She said labeling him as less than human once again and laced with an intent to intimidate him, the look in her eyes aiding in that typically easy endeavor, though this time, interestingly, not finding purchase as effortlessly as usual.
Anthony boldly shifted his body forward and maintained the stare she was trying to push his resolve down with.

“You don’t have to be jealous,” the young man said firmly, “I’ve known her for a long time, and we can’t even be considered friends.”

That, actually, was one of the reasons Mira found her new emotion steadily rising; this girl had known her precious Anthony longer than she had, and anything like that, when it came to her favorite living toy, was strangely an insult, or an affront to her. The brown-eyed demon knew she trusted Anthony, he was hers, and he was slowly coming to understand that, but she sure as hell didn’t trust anyone else with him, let alone some girl who, regardless of why, may have unconfirmed interests in the man. 

As these new feelings and emotions shifted and turned inside her mind, Mira began to think to herself, as she did with all things, how she could use it to her advantage. Anthony seemed to get immediately defensive at the idea of another female encroaching on her human possession, and as that fact became evident, she devised an exciting, delicious new plan on how she could have fun with and exploit that to a satisfying degree.

“So you’re saying, Anthony Drewgann,” she said using his proper name, just as a mother would scolding her misbehaving child, cementing the fact he was in trouble, “that this, Allison, is no threat to me…?”

“Of course she isn’t, why would she be, Mira? I don’t even know her!”

Mira was silent as she kept her eyes on him, the noiseless air between the couple drawing out at her behest, the demon-girl’s ability to manipulate conversation, personality, and interaction sharpened to the fine point of an almost tangible weapon.

“I don’t believe you…,” she whispered out to him, lying of course, but knowing she could hide it with little effort due to her prey’s instant mental unrest that immediately followed.

“W-what? Y-you think I’m lying?! You can’t be serious!” Anthony blurted out, his mind racing and simultaneously panicking at this accusation.

“What was she to you before? Before you met me, ant-boy?”

Anthony’s mouth dropped and no words came out, he was appalled that Mira would think he’d ever lie to her, especially about something as…well…as deathly important as this.

Without warning, but only taking one of the pair by surprise, Anthony doubled over and rolled into the couch onto his left side, his head landing where Mira’s body ended. The man’s stomach stabbed with pain as he was forced to clutch his abdomen in piercing agony, his teeth being clamped shut together, and his breath rasping out in response to the hot, invisible wound. Anthony’s knees came up and buckled against his chest of their own accord, a ringing in his ears making his eyelids seal off the light of the living room and shrouding his vision in darkness. 

Anthony began to cough and take in sucks of oxygen with his deprived lungs, now, unfortunately, significantly reduced in size as the rest of his body, and his surroundings, were revealed to his eyes as they slowly opened back up again. The small man, now insignificant, and directly before the bottoms of Mira’s towering soles, growled out a curse through his slightly bloodied teeth, rolling onto his hands and knees, a string of crimson saliva trailing down from his lips onto the cushions of the sofa as he gasped and coughed.

The tiny man wiped his mouth on his wrist and muttered lowly to himself, not knowing Mira’s inhuman sense of hearing could pick up his complaining.

“Why does this shit always hurt so much?” he said shaking his head back and forth, both frustrated and trying to banish the fading pain in his lower intestines as his voice came out through panting gasps.

He glanced over towards where he remembered Mira was laying, doing a quick double-take momentarily surprised, forgetting about her drastic shift in size that always accompanied his own. Her back was propped up against the arm of the couch, and her feet, massive and unblemished, rose up before him not far away, filling his heart with dread and anxiety at being reminded of what they looked like from beneath. Due to the distance from the bottom of her relaxing posture, Mira couldn’t train her eyes to where he had reduced instantly in height, but she fixed that problem a moment later, trying her best to appear cutely dominating.

The woman flicked her left foot aside, which was resting beneath her right, her legs crossed as she sat relaxed and casual. Anthony came into view as her vision was unimpeded, and as he looked up to notice the motion of her foot moving, he flinched ever so slightly in response.

“God this is intoxicating,” thought Mira within the corners of her inhuman mind, the girl’s command of life over death returning with the man’s consistent, daily change in stature.

With just a careless tap of any one of her toes, or with only the slightest shift in her body’s weight, something as strong, as defiant, as noble as her little Anthony could be destroyed utterly like he was nothing to her. It was as if he were an individual grain of sand to her, not in literal size, but in the context of his existence being meaningless by comparison to the veritable goddess that she was, stretched out before him without a care in the world, he in turn presented with the ever-constant possibility of a violent demise at her whims. Mira inhaled deeply at resisting the urge to make him feel just as he was, horrifyingly insubstantial in just about every way physically possible. She then exhaled heavily, almost as if reluctantly releasing the temptations she was having in her mind, and kept her stare aimed at him as her eyes narrowed, a smirk creasing one side of her face. She reveled in this. Mira loved, almost as much as Anthony, the way he made her feel after 7 PM every, single, night when his little secret returned to bless his minuscule life.

“Answer the question, insect.” She breathed out again, her voice teasing sensual, but still keeping a darkly promising tone that reminded Anthony that she could kill him without hesitation should she decide to for whatever passing reason.

The inch tall man gulped nervously down the remains of coppery saliva and stood up straight, fists balling as he reflexively crossed his arms over his chest, trying to keep his fear, and his anger under control. The pain of the change was influencing his mood slightly, but he was actually a little thankful for it, it gave his nerves something to bite onto in the face of such a terrifyingly large person.

The small man frowned over to the face of the lazily relaxing demi-goddess, looking past her legs, and the round mountainous curve of her chest’s glorious rises, she was giving him a smile that could be, in addition to its obvious poetic description, one to die for.

“She is nothing to me. We aren’t even friends, Mira,” he says out to her with conviction.

“Oh yeah?” Mira replies while arching her soles and stretching the dangerously large muscles of her feet.

“Then why was she looking at you? What aren’t you telling me,” she says accusingly, purposefully trying to make him less comfortable. He responds with growing agitation, and alarmingly, she is suddenly pushed beyond playing because of it.

“I haven’t left anything out; I don’t know why she’d look at me! We were all talking together you know, that might have something to do with it! People look at each other when they talk!” He coated his rising temperament in a sarcastic retort, though it is at once noticed, and repaid in turn by the laying monster with something appropriate.

The frighteningly huge vixen begins with deliberate slowness, exaggerating her movements, to roll in sequence the toes of both her feet, as if to not just tease her little pet’s lewd fascination with her body, but also reminding him that any part of her massive existence would love to have its chance to play with his life.
“Don’t you dare.… Raise your voice to me again…. You insignificant thing.”

Anthony took a step forward, surprised by his own courage as he ground out the next words that came out of his mouth, the syllables hard with emphasis, and reinforced by a defiance he had never before known himself capable of. 

“Or… You’ll… What?”

The tiny man’s eyes narrowed with anger at the whole situation. He was being accused of something he wasn’t guilty of, in addition, he was fresh from a blast of pain that had his senses acting uncharacteristically of his normal self. Mira, despite being the one he always wanted to obtain the approval of, had been today the party who had brought his loyalty into question with her obviously loaded inquiries, and despite even that, he refused to back down from anyone, including herself, suggesting he was not devoted to her.

The woman suddenly became motionless, eyes fine like the killing edge of an executioners axe, staring over to him, now, for the first time, genuinely angry at his attempt to stand resolute.

Without warning, she pulled her feet up and away, rotating her body and legs, but keeping her eyes locked on him as if she were a cat trained on a wounded mouse, the sofa-ground undulating beneath Anthony with the goddess’ shifting weight. Her feet impacted the floor with a dull thud, and she placed both her hands flat against the soft couch cushions under her abdomen, leaning her torso down before him with a clear display of effort. She lowered her head over towards where he stood, as far as possible so that her face, and especially her eyes, were level with the pathetically tiny human. Mira’s chest was visible for a small moment as she changed position, the tops of her breasts for a fleeting second on display, but their pleasant outline was replaced immediately, as she came to rest directly in front of Anthony only a few of his feet away, by the stone-cold visage of her face. 

She filled his vision. Mira became in effect, his entire world in a literal sense. Her eyes weren’t narrowed anymore, the playful entertainment of her usual mood was gone, almost as if forever, like her eyes had only ever learned to brandish a menacing intimidation that was beyond human understanding. The sheer size of her pupils, the way her lids were widened with anger, and the utter lack of motion anywhere else in her entire body made Anthony so absolutely afraid of her, he almost lost control of his bladder. The lips and expression of the dark goddess were maddening neutral, and because of that, she palpably radiated a sense of barely restrained fury. She wasn’t blinking, she wasn’t moving. Mira was simply and unflinchingly, staring. 

The human male breathed harder, trying in vain to control his rising fear, it was travelling up his throat from his gut as if it were a chokingly acidic liquid, and as he reflected on how complete and total his terror was, he realized it might actually be in reality, bile coming up from his stomach. Mira was enormous. Her hair drooped lazily before her alarmingly large visage, the strands of her pretty natural brown usually accentuating her beauty, now, however, they only aided in petrifying him with how they complimented her mood, the tips of her hair pointed and thin. 

Mira watched him, closely, in every definition of the word. She could faintly smell the sweat his body was producing, could just barely hear the minute thumps of his racing heart. The demonic woman, merely inches from his body, could even taste how afraid he was as his trembling muscles exuded his capitulating nerve.

There was something though, just below his barely contained horror that she could feel growing. Not his love for her, or their mutual attraction. No, that was a gorgeously pure and indescribable emotion. She could sense instead, a feeling like…like she couldn’t describe with a word, or a typical label of psychology…it was something that could only be quantified as a color, of all things. The color red.

Mira wanted to know more, this irresistible flame within Anthony was coming out, she could feel it like it was water beginning to encompass them both, rising up and touching her skin, registering to her physical sense of touch. 

“Time to get a better look at this new spark,” she decided without speaking words.

Mira, with a slowness that was supremely uncomfortable to the silent Anthony, turned her head so that her left eye was completely centered on his outline, opened fully with its huge iris focused on his meager existence. She was like a dragon who was trying to get the best look at a tiny silver knight who had foolishly quested to hopelessly try and slay her, her inhuman curiosity briefly peaked, and her urge to devour him temporarily pushed away.

Mira didn’t blink, she didn’t even move as she whispered out her final, horrendously dark challenge to Anthony as he resisted every sane part of his mind that was screaming within his head, pleading with him to retreat from her or submit to her ominous presence.

“…Try it…” she said simply, her tone devoid of anything save for a strange, sinister form of confidence.

“…I fucking dare you…”

Anthony felt a chill run up his spine, the muscles of his backbone’s ligaments twitching beyond his control to stop them, his dread rising and composure weakening. Mira’s eye was so close to his body, examining him coldly as if he were a germ beneath a microscope, that if he took one, maybe two full steps, he could reach out and touch the dark brown of her dilated pupil with his minuscule hand. He was still standing before her, the reason behind that decision entirely lost to the tiny man before this giant demon, all his thoughts nearly blotted out like an eclipsed sun, except for the practically absolute feeling of trepidation that gripped his fragile heart.

Mira stared at him sharply, waiting and searching for any semblance of resolve or resistance, any tiny hint that may suggest he wanted to continue to stand up to her, that he meant to actually challenge the massive girl for control of their relationship’s throne of authority. If he really sought to somehow, insane as a thought that it was, to try and surpass her and become the sole alpha member of their partnership, he would have to do the impossible; contend with not just her incomprehensible size, but Mira’s sheer, inhuman will to dominate.

The red thirst for approval was rising within Anthony, he had no idea why, or how, but he could feel suddenly as Mira gazed motionless and unblinking into his soul, that he was face to face with his chance for her personal validation. She was, “humoring,” his play for power, at least in the context of not immediately crushing him to paste for daring to back talk to her, and as hilarious or unlikely as it was, on the other end of the spectrum, for the first time in Mira’s life someone was standing up to her.

The small man could feel his adrenaline starting to pump throughout his veins, chemical responses in his body had failed to convince him of flight, and so instead, as if before a choice that meant life or death, it surged within his muscles the urge to fight back, a refusal to back down. Mira was truly amazing, and though she was probably right now resisting the temptation to annihilate his life in vast multitude of gruesome ways, he could not help but be drawn to her. She was, in truth, just about everything he could have ever wanted in another person. The demon woman was no longer playing around though; Anthony wasn’t certain what would happen if he escalated the confrontation, he could not be completely sure she was in enough control of herself that she wouldn’t heedlessly act out of anger in response to a real, sincere, challenge to her spot at the top of the food chain.

This situation the pair was in, was in the purest form of the description, unique. Anthony knew in his irregular heartbeat that this was his first and perhaps only real chance to prove himself to Mira. To prove to indeed himself that he was worth her affection and worthy of her companionship, that he was different from all those who had come and gone before him, destroyed or cast aside like toys that had failed at keeping her entertained. He had been given an opportunity to be what he knew she had always secretly wanted, and though it seemed like she currently was trying to rebel at the thought of that reality, he could see the truth through her eyes just as she could his. All he had to do to make that happen for them both, was shout at the devil, and that, in addition to possibly his death, was a small price to pay he concluded.

And well, that settled it.

Anthony took in a deep breath to focus his efforts, though trying and failing not to make that obvious to the huge girl before him. His arms slowly came unlocked and his hands dropped to his side, balling into finger-tightened fists of defiant courage. The nostrils of the small man flared as his brow angled downwards in anticipation, the words he knew he was going to utter next rising from his vocal cords, no longer choked or afraid, but given strength by this insane decision he’d come to make. Anthony’s upper lip arched up, his mouth opening as he raised and pointed his finger at Mira’s dragon-like eye, his first and possibly last syllable his voice would ever utter coming up his throat to growl out with an animalistic certainty, his daring response.

Mira, taking note of his body’s movements and his rise in temperament, still didn’t move, nor did she make a threatening gesture of any kind. She could smell something approaching, and it was about to interrupt them, unfortunately, but she honestly was getting more excited and impressed with Anthony despite her settling anger at her tiny pet’s silly attempt at contesting her position of power. She could see it now, as clearly as a dying black rose in a garden of new buds, right this instant, the beauty of what Anthony truly was on the inside. His mysterious tattoo, the look on his face in the locker room after he’d shrank for the first time, his reaction to almost being devoured with bits of sugary cereal and how he had brought her back from the brink. Anthony was a fighter, and god she loved the thought of a man who believed, no matter how hopelessly untrue, he could be considered her equal through sheer willpower alone.

A ring around the apartment sounded out like the great echo of a cascading avalanche of audio punishment, forcing the tiny man’s hands to his ears and closing one of his eyes in a flinch of pain. Mira, still unmoving somehow, slowly allowed a tiny smirk to crease the right side of her face, along the side of her lips that were turned slightly away.

“...Saved by the bell…” She said whispering cutely, the short sentence that was as genuine a promise as she could make, alluding with certainty that he had been just that, spared her vengeance due to the apartment’s doorbell, which Anthony now realized was the source of the sharp racket.  

Anthony’s demeanor and mood shifted abruptly from terrified to relieved, and though he knew Mira saw it as well, he knew they had both come frighteningly close to an event worth remembering and he had at least acquired a shred more of her respect for not backing down.

Mira blinked and rolled her eyes, smiling slightly as if her tiny pet’s veneered fear had entertained her sufficiently enough to dissuade her from not smashing him to wet goo between her fingers.

She began to rise back up and said lowly down to Anthony as she plucked him by the back of his shirt between her index finger and thumb, picking him up and moving him to the floor next to the leg of the sofa.

“Under the couch,” she commanded simply, as she rose up to her full, towering might, stepping away and around the furniture and making for the door. She figured no matter the possibilities of what was going to happen next, that Anthony would be safest under there. She had considered placing him within her dress in between her breasts, but she knew herself better, and understood that that was far too easy to bump or brush and result in an unfortunate end for her little roommate despite the temptation of that pleasurably sensitive area.  

 
Anthony quickly scrambled into the darkness that was the underside of the couch, sticking to the shadow and glancing around to the new undecorated wooden ceiling for anything like a predator, feeling now more than ever, very much like an insect as Mira had always loved to label him. The inch tall man crouched low and looked up and away towards the door, staying well away from the edge of the sofa, as well as the well-lit, open floor, using geometry to his advantage to retain sight of his roommate and the door. 

  
Mira reflexively glanced back to where she could smell Anthony, her heightened sense of sight picking him out immediately in cover as she made a mental note of where he was hiding on the floor.

Turning back around Mira opened the door after unclicking the pair of locks, readying herself in case the encounter for some reason was hostile. She never received visitors, and it was her personal rule to never give her address out to anyone she didn’t intend to kill, so this was an event that garnered a response of justifiable caution.          

The door opened up, and Mira’s sense of smell had its suspicions confirmed by her sharp eyes as it did so.

“Hey, Mira! How’s it going?!” A perky, but lower toned voice came.

Allison was standing outside, holding a phone in her hand and wearing what Mira swore she knew was a fake grin of white teeth. The girl in the sundress was leaning against the open door and opening it only halfway, hopefully not seeming like she was deliberately trying to hide something, but of course doing just that.  

“…Fine,” she said attempting to hide her annoyance, “what brings you here?”
“Well, Anthony forgot his phone on the table, and Kyle had already left when I found it, so I followed you guys here, but I got stuck behind a train down the road.”

She was lying... Mira could tell as easily as if she were brandishing a brightly flickering sign on her hand. The half-human decided to counter her answer, confident that there was no way she had simply followed them home.

“How did you follow us to my apartment? There’s 75 units in this complex.”

“Oh, well I asked the manager which apartment you were in, did I catch you at a bad time? Is Anthony not here?”

She was still lying, but she was good at it, and furthermore, she had thought well ahead about being scrutinized and planned accordingly. Mira could keep pressuring her, but realized here and now was not the right situation to do so. If something were indeed to happen, she would want Anthony at his full height, and less vulnerable to whatever could transpire. The demon girl concluded she could also leave off an impression within the blonde human that her suspicions weren’t peaked, ergo not setting off any alarms within her schemes or ideas, hiding the fact that Mira was onto her.

“No, he's not here,” she said feigning acceptance, “he dropped me off and went home right after.”

“Oh, so he left his car here then?” Allison came back immediately, trying herself to breach the calm and calculated lies of Mira, who kept herself unfazed like the golden-haired human.

“Yeah, but I can give him his phone, I’ll see him first thing tomorrow. He said he was going to crash out when he got back anyways.”

Mira reached out and took the phone from Allison, the act itself slightly rude, but forcing the blonde woman to literally relinquish her remaining cards.
“There was also one more thing, if that’s ok?”

Mira regarded the other girl and remained silent, giving consent for her to continue with her lack of a response.

“Do you have a bottle of water or something, I’m really thirsty, and I still have to drive by the bank and stuff before I go home.”

“Nice try slut,” thought Mira silently. Allison was trying to gain entry into the apartment, though Mira reflected, a better lie would have been asking to use the restroom, that’s something that’s a lot harder to form a genuine denial for, and its what she would have gone with had the situation been reversed.

“Sure, but wait here, the place is a mess.”

Mira didn’t like the idea of leaving the living room, and particularly Anthony, alone for any amount of time, and though it would only be for a few seconds, and the girl would remain outside, she hurriedly made for the refrigerator intent on finally leaving no excuse for Allison to remain at the small home.
Anthony watched as Mira turned and left walking away, her bare footfalls resounding out with a heavy crash of echoes with each step as she went. He was suddenly feeling very worried and alone, and found himself anxiously watching her as she left his vision towards the other side of the apartment.
Turning his attention back to Allison, his eyes switched back to the half-opened entrance of the living room, and as they did, the tiny man felt his heart drop in an instant.

Allison, towering off into the distance, the cool rush of outside air accompanying the coldness of her green eyes, was staring right at him as his small head had finished pivoting towards her. Anthony gasped and fell back onto his back onto the carpet, his legs and hands scrambling trying to find purchase and propel him away. The girl waiting outside hadn’t found him by accident, nor was she squinting or straining, trying to determine if he was a bug or not, she knew, exactly where he was and exactly what he was. In the next moment, Allison simply let a tiny smile creep to one side of her face, though the rest of her body held rigid to the pose of indifference, she was letting him know that she had found him, and she was telling only him.

The green pupils of Allison tracked back and her smile fluttered away as Mira came back around the corner, carrying a water bottle in one hand and Anthony’s phone still in the other. She handed the other girl the plastic bottle and replaced her now free hand on the door handle, ready to close it.

“Hey thanks, have a nice night Mira!” Allison called as she turned to head away, “Tell Anthony I said, “hi,” tomorrow!”

Mira didn’t say goodbye as she forced one last fake smile away, then closing the door, relocking the tumblers as the outside air ceased its invasion.  She stayed standing at the door, rolling Anthony’s phone in her hand and wishing it was him instead, all the while thinking about the entire encounter and trying to understand Allison’s angle or motives. She asked questions to herself at a rate that was quickening with every passing second, but each one lead to another and each was more and more worrying than the last.   

Had Anthony really left his phone there, or had she taken it at some point? What was the true method she used to find her there? And why had she prepared her answers and indeed her questions so perfectly that she almost caught Mira off balance?

Mira sighed and closed her eyes, tired and worried about the whole night, whereas before she had felt the glorious brush of infatuation and positivity at enjoying the party, now she was pessimistic and annoyed.

Anthony rushed out from under the couch and into the light of the apartment, his tiny body carrying him at his full speed of maybe two inches a second at full sprint. He made it to out in the open, equal distance between the couch and the monstrous girl as he began to shout up to her as he ran.  

“Mira! MIRA!” he panted as he slowed to an abrupt stop, her head casting around and her somewhat dismissive eyes finding him at once rotating to a low, downward angle.

“Mira…” He gasped catching his breath, momentarily forgetting how mind-jarringly huge she was by comparison, her height teasing his various emotions with fear and somehow simultaneously, tantalizing interest.

“She, I mean Allison,” he continued looking up at her as she raised an eyebrow, “She saw me! She knows!”   

       
Mira’s mood changed as soon as the words left the tiny man’s mouth, her eyes narrowing and her lips creating an angry frown. Of all things that could have happened tonight, this was the last thing she had expected, or wanted. Whoever this green-eyed serpent was, she was clearly dangerous, and now to compound all of that and everything else, there was a possibility she knew about this deathly sensitive information?

“What do you mean, “she saw you?” Mira said with low growl, turning her body and getting ready to walk over to the ant of a man exposed and defenseless on her carpet.

“No no, I mean-“ Anthony stammered trying to explain, having gotten his words and the context of the problem jumbled with his sudden panic at her reaction of anger.

“She found you? After I specifically told you to hide under the couch, you idiot!”
Idiot? That came suddenly, and hurt more than the usual insults. It wasn’t a play on his obvious problem concerning stature, it was a word honed to a point just now, hurled at him intending to cause him harm.

“Idiot?” Anthony stammered out, a growing sense of tribulation in his heart.
Mira took a couple of short steps towards him as her great strides covered the distance to where he stood in a few equal seconds. Anthony took an involuntary step back as his breath caught in his throat, the sheer skyscraper of the gorgeous woman’s body rising over him and eclipsing his life without even trying, the titanic booms of her feet as they impacted the floor jarring his bone marrow as they fell.

Mira glared down at him from high above, the curve of her chest concealing her chin and neck as she placed her hands on her hips, and Anthony in between her uncovered feet, the fabric of her garment dangling free and waving.

“I-I,” Anthony bumbled, his nervous fright increasing now, though he was unfortunately transfixed on something else, combining two completely opposite compulsions as the female demon’s temper flared.

“What the hell were you thinking? What did I tell you?!” Mira said loudly down to the pathetic human cowering before her wrath.

“Mira, I-“ he tried to continue a second time, but the eyes of the gargantuan beauty fixed him hard as her voice bellowed once more, silencing him yet again.

“You what? You what, insect?” She said with mounting frustration. Mira was starting to feel more and more like lifting her foot, and slamming it down onto Anthony’s meaningless existence. It would solve a whole lot of problems and take virtually no effort, and regardless of how quickly she was sent to hell, at least she would get one hell of a flush of pleasure before she was doomed to an incomprehensibly horrible fate. She wanted to feel his bones crunch beneath the soft, cruel embrace of her sole, to feel the warmth of his blood on her skin again for the second time, and she was finding it hard to remember a moment where she wanted it more than right now, and the only thing keeping that gruesome event from transpiring was her affection for him.

Anthony gulped and took in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to gather the bits of his composure. He had just about fallen onto his back as his neck craned upwards trying to keep Mira in view, however, at the present moment, something else was, and he found it necessary to point that out, hoping it would diffuse the current tension. In short, it did not.

The microscopic mant on the floor, worryingly in range of virtually any method Mira could employ to inflict on him bodily injury, almost whispered out his next sentence with a cocky, half-smile.

“…I can see up your dress…”

The term, “angry,” was not quite the exact way to describe Mira’s immediate reaction, but it was fairly close given the circumstances she was caught off guard with. Weirdly enough what she felt at this precise moment was a combination of that emotion, and surprisingly embarrassment, along with a dash of endearment she simply could not ignore. She couldn’t help but find Anthony’s chime in humor adorably funny, but the present subject matter, well, wasn’t something even she, a half-human monster, found appropriate at the time, if at all ever.

Anthony, far below and beneath the gaze of her instantly widened eyes and blushing cheeks saw Mira’s nostrils flare and her teeth brandish due to her curling lip, it was, for the briefest moment, the most humanity he had ever witnessed his partner show. She was obviously mad, but the blushing cheeks suggested she was also uncomfortable, or just perhaps uneasy at her tiny man pointing out she possessed any vulnerability whatsoever.

“Yup…” Anthony concluded in a whisper to himself upon gauging Mira’s reaction, as he then quickly turned and dashed away with all the speed that his tiny frame could conjure. He had seen his ploy for humor evidently backfire, Mira, to his ultimate misfortune, seemed more angry than entertained, and as such he immediately put into motion plan B: running for his life.

Mira watched him scurry past her left foot, the painted white digits not impeding his progress as he sprinted for the underside of the couch, only a second and a half left before he made it to relative safety. The girl’s face shifted from anger to sudden surprise, the little pest was making a break for it and she was still caught off balance by his stupid attempt at humor!

The woman shook her head in disbelief and hesitated to move, if she was too forceful, or acted on her sudden urge to block his path with her closest sole, she risked killing him with her overreaction. He was clearly motivated by his urge to escape her predictable wrath that was sure to follow his, “joke,” and that, combined with his natural athleticism, gave him the speed necessary to elude her, even if for just a few moments.

The woman groaned with frustration seeing the minuscule man nearly reach his intended safe haven, a sound like, ”ugh,” coming from her lips as she knelt down quickly, regaining her focus and knowing the precision of her fingers would be needed in trying to pluck him from the floor. All the while she was attempting, and partially failing, to remember to be delicate with her shrunken roommate, as she then snatched at him as fast as she could trying to keep him from getting away.

Anthony was mere milliseconds from his realm of darkness beneath the furniture when he felt the ground tremor at Mira’s change in posture. He didn’t have time, nor the desire to risk a glance around and up at the angry mountain of gorgeous physical features, knowing full well the fury that would be written in her demeanor, so as he neared the lightless carpet covered by the bottom of the couch, he thought with enough haste to chance his final gamble.

The young man let out a small shout of alarm, guessing correctly that Mira was already reaching out with her opened claw to seize him in her massive grasp, the curled fingers of her hand casting a shadow above him as he tucked over and rolled onto his shoulder beneath the overhead wood of the seat’s low frame.

Mira’s hand slammed into the carpet and shook the area around the small body of Anthony, he rolled over and over a few times and came to a brief stop on his left side, shaken slightly though largely unharmed, but most importantly, uncaught. He watched the enormous hand of the girl, the white painted nails struggle around and grasping like huge human tentacles for anything they could, hoping to brush or touch the warm little body of their intended prey. Anthony, somewhat fascinated by its frantic movements, jarred himself back to reality and clambered away, standing up and rushing a few more meters from her fingers to be certain he was out of her reach.

“Ugh! You little shit!” Mira said scowling, “Get out of there! I swear to god if you don’t, I’ll cook you in a frying pan!”

Anthony, while he was ignoring her gruesome threats, awful as they were, was actually quite proud of himself at the moment. Straightening his back, the tiny placed his hands on his hips and nodded to himself with a feeling of excited accomplishment, just now he’d essentially bested Mira, and he was confident he was the only person, living or dead, who could boast a claim such as that. He slowly started to laugh and a smile came to his face as he watched the open hand of the perturbed goddess shift and wriggle fruitlessly, the lit floor beyond the edge of the seat’s construction displaying Mira dropped to one knee and fidgeting around to find the best angle for her arm. He wasn’t exactly sure why, maybe it was because of his unexpected adrenaline, a mild touch of insanity, or just his sheer enjoyment at, “playing with,” Mira, but his laugh grew until he buckled over and brought his hands to his knees.

Anthony could feel it now, he was actually for some unknown reason, enjoying himself. When the odds were at least somewhat fair, as they had been for the most part in their previous cereal duel the other night, he found the prospect of eluding capture or evading death by merciless lover a strange source of pleasure. He had never understood, like most people, the description of feeling most alive when closest to dying, but he imagined it was some amalgamation of circumstances and emotions like he was currently going through. And it was a weird feeling indeed.

However, just as the shrunken man was discovering more curiously intimate aspects of his psychology, he raised his head up in time to feel the ground shake again. Mira, he discovered to his horror, had lowered herself down to the floor so that as he looked up, one of her scanning pupils locked onto him with inhuman focus, easily spotting his position. The smile faded from Anthony’s mouth in a heartbeat as it transferred immediately to the face of the now invigorated demonette, a smirk creasing one side of her mouth as she found with renewed enthusiasm that he was still within her power to capture.

“I can’t wait to feel you kicking and screaming down my throat,” she said with a dark prospect of pleasure, low like a whisper.

The smirk turned to a savage grin, the look of fear on Anthony’s face heightening her lust for his life as Mira’s teeth were revealed, her lips splitting with terrifying enjoyment as she reached towards the small man who now was motionless, balking at her new threats and efforts to literally grab control of his life. The woman, now taking and exploiting her new advantage, clawed over to where Anthony was now coming to his senses and hurrying in the other direction, shouting a curse from his panicked mouth.

The insect-sized human rushed away as each stride he took was followed by the booming or scraping of a nail or gargantuan fingertip, either of which if not kept in check by the horrifically excited Mira could easily maim his frail body with a miscalculated shuffle. Then, to the tiny escapee’s relief, another sound crashed into the side of the couch, and as he stopped and took a short glance back, Anthony understood what the origin of the noise was; Mira’s shoulder had bumped the seat edge, and her arm was fully extended beneath the couch as far as it would go.

He was still out of reach, and had gotten far enough away from her that she could not quite grasp where he was standing. Frustrated, and undoubtedly even more angry than before, Mira without hesitating retracted her hand and pulled it out from under the couch, though it was not an act of surrender, no, the creature in pursuit of him had never known the meaning of defeat, and she certainly wasn’t admitting that now.

The beautiful brunette, without a moment of respite, got to her feet and scrambled over the arm of the sofa, using one hand to carry her weight as she bounded over to the shorter side of the couch, where she could reach farther across and almost to the other side of its width. As she landed, both feet impacting the ground at the same time, the subsequent earthquake to Anthony sent him flailing, then tumbling to the ground onto his side, the wind knocked out of him, and his mind disoriented.

Mira leaned down and got onto her side as well, her plump chest and face squishing the carpet down as she lay to get the best sight of her precious victim. Scanning around with her eye, the other like before concealed by the couch edge, she picked out Anthony just as easily as she had previously as he was getting to his feet and fleeing away from her again, though if she judged the distance right, he was hopelessly far away from safety this time.

The small young man kept running, he was panting now, the unrelenting amount of sudden sprints was wearing down on his physique, despite being well prepared as it was. Mira was reaching for him again, and now as fatigue was setting in, he was pushing enjoyment out of his mind and focusing on being quick and mindful of her new attempts to acquire him, because if he wasn’t, he could not be sure she wouldn’t make good on her earlier promise to devour him, or fry him like a living egg. 

He was almost to the other side of the couch, the light from the living room was near and Anthony suddenly realized that the couch length was what had been saving him before, and now, as he stopped just before the rays of artificial sun coating the carpet, he turned to see if Mira could reach him from there.

The half-demon struggled and shifted her torso trying to force her hand as far as it would go, but as its pearly tipped fingers wiggled in front of Anthony, desperate to clamp onto him, she found she still barely could not reach.

Anthony took one last step back, and actually kind of felt bad for his frustrated roommate, she was still, no matter how blood-hazed she was, his favorite person in the world, and it made him sorry to see her fail, though her success would have been marked, likely, by the pain of his grizzly demise that was sure to follow.

Mira rolled her eyes and lifted her arm back out, to Anthony’s relief, she sighed heavily and sort of growled in frustration, seemingly fed up with the chase and not being able to torture her tiny love interest. She sat up onto her knees, still placed before the couch as Anthony coughed and tried to catch his breath between dry heaves of oxygen. He rested his palms on his thighs as he knelt over, this time, however, keeping a close eye on Mira’s outline in the distance for any sign of a renewed assault.

Mira placed her elbows on the cushions of the seat, and then covered her face with her hands, sighing again and rubbing her tired eyes and cheeks, exhausted from the day, and still measurably annoyed with Anthony and the fact Allison knew their sensitive secret. She had to find out what went wrong, it was part of the reason why she’d tried to reach her little pet in the first place, but also, of course, because he’d peeped under her dress, despite that maybe not being entirely his own fault.

“Why didn’t you stay under the couch this good before, like I told you?” Anthony heard her say lowly from above, her anger subsiding and now replaced by a form of something like tired regret.

“I tried to tell you before,” he started, his tone level and trying to be relaxed despite being out of breath, “She knew where I was, it was like she could sense me… Somehow. She didn’t just find me!”

He pauses, trying not to sound like he had been hiding the next fact, “She wanted only me to know, she acted like normal when you came back, but she knew where I was…Without having to look, Mira.”

He stops, extremely worried about what he is going say next, and how it would affect his demonette, but it was the truth, so he knew it was the right thing to do.

“She smiled at me, she didn’t say anything though, she just looked at me…”

Mira stopped rubbing her face as his words registered to her hypersensitive ears, as her fingers parted, her eyes betrayed worry and surprise, but then a raised eyebrow suggested anger as she cocked her head downwards as if speaking to the bottom of the couch itself.

“Did you smile back…?”

She asked trying to keep her temper in check, and placing her vulnerability into his small hands. She hadn’t thought that question through at all, and had simply asked on complete impulse, not able to halt herself from seeming desperate or scared to him, and though she wanted to curse herself for doing so, the words had left her lips regardless. Before when this had all began she had been only playing with his emotions, intending to do nothing but tease him in reality, but after Allison’s sudden appearance, then this latest revelation that she had in some small way tried to connect with him, she was anxious about her true intentions, and how Anthony would react.

Anthony was quick to respond, however, knowing, despite it not being evident in her voice, that she was worried about his answer.

“No!” he shouted, louder than he’d meant to, “Of course not! She’s just some person I barely know like I told you!”

The hiding man still hadn’t come nearer to his partner, exercising mental and physical restraint because of her recent anger, but he none the less wanted to reassure her that everything was fine, and that he hadn’t transgressed on their mutual bond in a negative way.

“I would never do something like that Mira. I…I really…” He trailed off, the thought though definitely not complete, and Mira seemed to notice that as well.
She picked up where he’d left off, her voice coaxing but measured, her anger gone away completely now.

“You what?”

“Well,” he began nervously, “You know I like you, and only you…I would never try and give off that I felt the same way about just anyone, to anybody else.”

Mira sighed, “Stupid girl,” she thought to herself, wondering why she had even let that question slip out. She knew they both felt the same about each other, and that she definitely had more than just a feeling of attachment to the small man her age, but Mira was just now learning how to process so many new feelings and emotions, and as she did so, she hoped she didn’t make any mistakes along the way. Anthony was the first and so far only person she felt a feeling of attraction to, and she knew despite her initial fears that it was rooted in a genuine type of affection and not just a need to take his life due to his special qualities. Mira just wanted to get things right when it came to Anthony, because now, more than ever, that mattered to her above all else.

“Plus I know if you ever found out I did you’d throw me down the sink or something…” he said with lighthearted and simultaneously dark humor.

Mood slightly lifted, Mira smiled and thought aloud, “There’s an idea,” she said with a tiny giggle and then glancing at the floor where the couch edge was nearby.

“Yeah, I would appreciate it if you didn’t do that, I like living and I particularly don’t like the idea of growing back to normal in a pipe.”

That was a horrible idea, Mira reflected, and when she imagined holding tiny Anthony between her fingers, as he struggled and begged for her forgiveness or mercy, she felt a twitch in her mind, something more akin to satisfaction than distant curiosity like she’d expected. She continued to ponder as the thought teased her desires, and next imagined how she might blow him a kiss, or give him her favorite wink before her pretty white nails released him into the cold embrace of gravity, down into the shadowy depths of his stinking metal hell.

“Oh, the look on his face,” she thought to herself, “the sound of his little, terrified scream…”

Mira gasped and closed her eyes, the lids of her sight forcing themselves shut of their own accord. She felt a tinge of pleasure roll into her chest as her mind dazzled her other free senses with thoughts of the unspeakable.

“But then again,” she thought silently once more, “it didn’t have to be, unspeakable… Now did it...?”

A mood had been brewing in her for a few hours now, a sweet type of desire that came up, once and a while, when she would partake in a really, really good method of killing a tiny human. There were things about Mira that she was uncertain of, like most normal people in fact, but something she understood about herself was that after all the years of satisfying her cruel lusts, her mind and body had been condition to crave such horrid experiences in a deeply sexual way. It had not always been so, however, when Mira had been younger it was just the disturbingly early signs of psychotic tendencies, but as she had matured, the dark emotions tied to the inhuman side of her soul intertwined sickly with the basic needs of the rest of the remaining fragments of her humanity.

The chase had brought it on she concluded, that’s definitely what pushed her over the edge, finally. The view of Anthony far below on the floor and his fear rising in reaction to her flare of agitation had helped immensely though, and now, due to her enjoyment of the afternoon, the prospect of their secret revealed to an outsider, and the rest of her undulating emotions, she was feeling undeniably frisky.

Mira swallowed hard and licked her lower lip with the tip of her tongue, preparing to test the waters of her and Anthony’s partnership like she had never before, and while her thoughts raced with the possibility of him reacting poorly, she wanted to trust him, so, she decided the impromptu risk was worth the exciting reward.

“…Anthony…” She said in a whisper, and trying not to seem distracted, breaking the silence that had come down upon the pair.

“Yeah?” The young man said from beneath the couch, about as loud as she did if they had been normal size by comparison, though he knew Mira would hear him perfectly fine.

Mira’s breathing was slowly but surely starting to rasp, becoming less controlled as was her patience with her current pace of speaking. She tried to ease herself and take things at a slow, gradual pace, looking to understand if something this intimate would be acceptable to her small roommate that now held, unbeknownst to him, incredible power over her.

“What was it like seeing me, just now, standing over you while you were on the floor?”

Mira let her right hand slither down to where her thighs met the dress Anthony had been so visually impressed with earlier in the day. She began, to very gently, caress the area just above her precious feminine secret, preparing for her little helper’s response.

Anthony was a fractionally taken by surprise with the question, but seeing as how it appeared as though Mira had eased past the point of anger, he was more inclined to answer. He cleared his throat and ruffled his eyebrows trying to think,

“It was… I mean, you were definitely scary.” He nods, agreeing with himself, “I was scared at first, and then as I got a look at… Well…You know… Then I felt sort of relieved for some reason. I guess because though I was scared you were going to hurt me, it was kind of funny... And sort of cute in a way.”

Not quite what she was after. It was a genuine answer that made Mira smile, trying not to laugh aloud to herself at her own part in the incident, but it wasn’t what she was after. It was close, but she needed something a little different. Mira decided to get what she wanted, she needed to help him, so that he could help her.

“What’s it like knowing any part of my body could kill you… My feet could crush you like you were nothing but an insect, my teeth could chew you up without any effort at all like you were just food time me… What’s it like knowing I could sit on you and there’s a good chance I might not even feel you?”

Things were getting a little further now as the minutes passed, and the woman could feel her heart rate starting to quicken as more thoughts became words out in the open. She could feel the rise of that very, very specific urge to touch herself inappropriately, and she fully endeavored to employ Anthony to satisfy that craving. Mira didn’t need to hike her dress up, the material was thin, like the soft undergarment she was wearing beneath it, and she could feel everything she needed to in order to at least get the feeling going anyways.
Anthony was thinking to himself about an answer when he too started to feel a wafting temptation circling his reason, what she was asking was stimulating his own newfound tastes, and as he kept trying to formulate a response, he could faintly detect a new… familiar, but somehow unique… odor teasing his sense of smell.

Mira sat up suddenly, a small patch of her dress and a slightly larger splotch of her underwear now a tiny bit moist, it was just barely enough to discolor the fabric in her outer layer, but she knew, without doubt, it would be far more obvious elsewhere. The girl propped herself up onto her feet, the front part of her soles and toes specifically, as the arches of the lowest points of her body raised along with her ankles. She leaned over and grabbed the couch cushion for both balance and restraint, squeezing it tightly as she gasped again and kept her eyes shut.

Anthony felt Mira rearrange herself, and looked over to where she was now apparently kneeling, the round fronts of her large toes gorgeously intimidating and slightly twitching as they kept her balance, holding that perfect body’s weight aloft. That aroma he wasn’t sure about a moment ago now became perfectly clear to him. He could… He could smell her now, without question! The man, still concealed by the cover of the green couch Mira now gripped with expectancy, could feel her feminine musk enter through his nostrils and tantalize the deeply-male portions of his cortex, urging him to act on its genetic pull.

Anthony tried to focus; he even rubbed his scalp and lightly shook his head. The man needed to remain in control of himself. Nothing, no matter how tempting, was going to change the fact that he was completely and totally incapable of doing anything remotely like acting on the pairs’ sexual impulses. Ignoring the fact the two had earlier agreed to, for the most part, take things slow, even if he wanted too it was physically dangerous for him to be around Mira when she was coherent, let alone aroused, and he could only imagine how ridiculously unpredictable a prospect like that would be should it come to pass. He definitely didn’t not want to engage out the in the open, not yet anyways at this point in their strange partnership, but he still had a nagging urge to explore his own desires, to discover more about himself, and by comparison a veritable need to ensure Mira was satisfied. Anthony wanted to take care of her first, not because he may be threatened by the unpredictability of her mood, but due to the fact that she was essentially his love interest, and he wanted to satisfy her needs whatever the context. Though, this one especially.

He continued talking; finding out more about his particular tastes and desires, and excited to be aiding Mira with hers.

“I think it depends on what you decide to use,”

he starts again, never once deciding he will be disingenuous,

“If it’s something like your feet…”

Anthony pauses and focuses, stifling his arousal as best he can as he shuts his eyes, imagining her thick, round toes before him, wiggling and teasing his senses,

“I guess in some way I might have actually liked that for the shortest second… They’re huge compared to me, and they’re the lowest part of your body, so in some ways it’s like a super-hot insult, to be so much like nothing that death by the power of your sole is the most appropriate way you could get rid of me… Almost like I’m just an annoyance to you.”

Mira listened carefully to the pleasurable trigger words Anthony was saying, she imagined with every ounce of her own potential creativity, the scenarios he was drawing for her so perfectly with his voice. As the seconds passed, the woman rubbed and teased at her wobbled clitoris, touching the sensitive button with the tip of her middle finger and sending waves of physical release throughout her body. Anthony was proving quite capable at this little activity she had decided to attempt on a whim, his voice was strong, and masculine, deep and yet sensual, he was proving the perfect combination of alluring and stud.

Mira’s fingertip caressed and rubbed, back and for and around in circles, changing every few seconds to coax a different spot or sudden place she desired. This was all going extremely fast, but for the first time so far in the two’s relationship, she was completely relaxed, trusting and feeling safe with Anthony, unworried about the direction the path they were on was taking… So she continued, with rising enthusiasm.

 The slightly euphoric woman curled her toes into the soft, plush fabric of the carpet as she let out a louder and more deeply unrestrained moan of enjoyment, eyes still closed imagining her favorite person gawking at her incalculable height and dominance over his existence.

Mira’s lower lip rolled back as her top row of teeth bit lightly down onto one corner of its soft and fleshy width. Her huge fist with decorated nails squeezed down onto the sofa cushion with enough force to crumble an, “Anthony proportioned,” subway car like it was made of paper, her grip fueled by the promise of another flush of approaching ecstasy as his words came with enhanced effect.

“Tell me,” she began with a near gasp, and finishing with a grounding final syllable, “would you beg for your life, little bug of mine?”

The emphasis Mira had placed on the last word, denoting him as, “hers,” gave Anthony a rush of warm emotions, all of which were good. He knew exactly where she was going with this, and the young man could tell she was enjoying herself immensely. The vague knowledge and experience with women Anthony did have, most of which came from unrequested tips and insight from the always talkative Kyle, had come into play over the last few weeks involving Mira, but now, when it came to this wild turn of sexuality, he didn’t try and convince himself he was doing anything besides improvising. 

“Oh, I think I could maybe arrange that…” The tiny man half-whispered out with a sheet of sensuality he was learning on the fly, smiling over to the form of Mira’s enormous feet and crouched body shadow.

Mira breathed inwards heavily in response as her feminine walls trembled and glistened with fresh, slippery release. The woman poked and rubbed at herself as the words, and the even better thoughts, kept flowing like her natural reproductive lubricant. She could hardly take it anymore now, the only partial human girl was now far beyond her ability to control herself, and for the first time in her life, she loved every second of the experience brought on by her tiny, special someone.

The towering skyscraper of a girl came crashing down and onto her back with a sudden, bone-jarring earthquake, like a true and literal building in the city center of downtown Tokyo city collapsing under its own weight. Mira was on her back now, and soon turned her body off to the right, so that now her head, gorgeous brown strands of hair resplendent and on show, was up against the base of the other, smaller couch, and her torso was adjacent to Anthony, still under the couch but now watching with rising excitement and fascination. She quickly shimmied off her thin undergarments and was no longer holding back in her pursuit of self-pleasure and satisfaction, employing the middle finger of her right hand to slip in and out of the now totally wet female area between her pristine and perfect thighs.

Mira’s knees contacted one another as her legs came together completely on their own, feet and ankles still cocked and separated as the sensation of physical excitement gathered specifically near her midriff. The girl’s free hand clawed upwards above her head as she grasped onto the now second couch to feel her releasing sexual exaltation. The woman’s teeth clamped together as she neared her ultimate destination of complete and utter climax, her head tilting back, eyes still shut and face flushing red as her legs and feet wiggle around trying to cope with the rush of cascading hot ecstasy. 

“Please, please goddess!” Anthony cooed out with an intent to contribute to his partner’s rising physical needs and less trying to be genuine, “Please, don’t crush me!”

“He had to go and say the, “c,” word,” Mira found herself thinking for the briefest fraction of a second, just before she cried out with a loud moan and embraced a torrential jolt, then flood, of sexual release. Her fist felt like it was going to tear out a piece of the couch as it squeezed and twisted the soft fabric of the matched sofa seat, her painted nails digging into the cushion with frightening power that for the moment seemed unnatural.

Anthony watched with his eyes wide and mouth now slightly opened as the titanic woman moaned out with a sound like the hottest and loudest train horn he’d ever been witness to in his entire life. Mira’s chest arched upwards slightly as she completed her involuntary audio exclamation, her hips rising a tad as well with the natural movements like grinding accompanying their return to the carpet.

She heaved out, clearly strained for breath and very faintly glistening sweat all over her body, the limbs of her gorgeous build sagging and going limp with a final depletion of her energy reserves, spent in the best way possible. Mira lay there, eyes closed, but not forced shut now, breathing through her mouth as she swallows hard and uses both her hands to quickly tidy the lower half of her pretty sundress, covering herself back up.

Mira says with a whisper, intending to be to herself, in between gasps of air,

“Fuck me…" she pauses briefly, "That was something…”

Her eyes slowly open, the brown orbs shining with the overhead light casting down rays of fake sunlight upon her beautiful, sprawled out body.

“Down girl,” a voice mumbles out from next to her head near her right ear, the voice of the one responsible for her rollercoaster of euphoria.

Mira turns her head slightly and casts her gaze to the carpet, expecting and finding Anthony standing not so far away, now out from underneath the cover of the sofa. The small, albeit attractive man, is standing with his hands relaxed behind his back, a small smile on his face, one of both affection and unmistakable satisfaction with oneself.

“Stupid cute little thing,” Mira thinks to herself as she catches her glimpse of him out in the open, “why’s he gotta be so perfect?”

“Yeah, that’s not something you get to say to me…” She says turning her head back to face the ceiling and closes her eyes again, dismissing his playful comment reminiscent of her own first alluring words to him after he’d woken up from a dark night.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he continues while taking a few steps forward, absolutely infatuated by the spent demeanor Mira has taken on in the aftermath of the two’s naughty experience they’ve just shared. Mira’s usual calm or anger has been strangely replaced by complete vulnerability, and he is honestly enjoying that development, he feels indescribable knowing she has taken enough trust in him to reveal such a soft side of her personality, un-shielding herself from the typical mood that feels more like dismissive tolerance.  

“Seems to me you rather enjoyed the minimal amount of effort I could bring to the table. Did you… Have fun…?” He says with a wider smile in anticipation of her answer.

Minimal effort? Was he being serious? Was Anthony that good with her desires and cravings, or was she extremely just easy to please nowadays? Mira reflected inwardly that she’d never done something without the aid of a small creature to help her finish sexually, and as she came to realize that, she understood the answer to those mounting questions. Her favorite human was just naturally gifted and attuned to her needs, and simply excelled at satisfying them, which excited her greatly, though she wasn’t about to admit that to him, especially not now and fuel his ego that was attempting to flicker again.

“If you tell anyone…ANYONE… What we just did…” She pauses and turns to face him as he briefly recoils at her sudden movement with a nervous smile, eyes locking onto him as always, “I’ll stick you up there next time and let you choke and drown on me…”

Anthony feels his mouth go agape marginally as he stammers trying to respond in a measured fashion, always subconsciously trying to inoculate himself against Mira’s usually graphic threats. However, this last one… For about a dozen absurd reasons the young man thought inwardly he’d never find himself considering, didn’t seem like the absolute worst way to go. He also found it quite peculiar that his roommate would threaten him with something so drastically different than was typical, but he chocked it up to what the woman had just been entertaining herself with most recently, and the feeling of pleasing her sexual organs still being fresh in her mind.

Anthony sighed and shook his head slowly back and forth,

“Yeah…I had fun too, Mira…,” he said with a whisper up and over to her, a smile breaking his lips that had her blushing in reaction to it.

Mira narrowed her eyes and turned away again, staring off to the popcorn ceiling as if thinking or in contemplation. She glanced for an instant back over to Anthony and then back to the white roof, apparently deciding she had gone enough time without him in close proximity to herself.

The pinched fingers of Mira’s hand rose over and plucked the tiny man from the floor with ease, the small figure not resisting or trying to avoid her efforts in any way, and then being carried over in a moment over to where the huge girl’s chest rose and fell with less vigor now that she’d calmed down. The enormous, white-tipped nails released Anthony down onto Mira’s skin, just above where her heart was beating, strong and powerful just a few inches beneath her smooth, healthy glow.

Anthony tumbled slightly to his hands and knees, and for the first time, felt Mira beneath the intimate touch of his uncovered hands and her uncovered body. He blinked a few times in surprise, his breath slowing almost to a stop, and his eyes wide with hesitation. She was warm, warmer than she ought to be, that was for sure, but it was incredible to feel on his slightly shaking fingertips, which had gone inexplicably cold and clammy. 

The tiny speck just above her glorious chest hadn’t looked up yet, and Mira could sense he was in slight awe of her body’s grace and immense stature. She had the potential to be deadly, in every sense of the word, but Mira knew she was attractive nonetheless, and that she was in turn, attracted to he who was currently ever so gently caressing her epidermal layer with his hand, partially overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of what she really was to him, and simultaneously, compared to him. She allowed him time to explore his curiosity. She had thus far permitted him to get close to her in the figurative and now literal sense, and Mira didn’t even looking down to regard him as she felt every microscopic movement, no matter how inconsequential, his body made.

Then Mira’s eyes went wide, her cheeks blooming a bright flush of crimson as blood hurriedly warmed her face, feeling now, a completely new and wondrous touch from Anthony as her breath caught suddenly, trapped within her throat in response. His… His face… She could feel it pressed against her chest, just above the heart that was just now fractionally starting to quicken its excited pace.

Mira’s head raised up slowly, beholding, to her melting composure’s gaze, little Anthony, lying on his own chest, arms out to his sides above his head, and cheek pressed firmly against her skin. He was motionless, but wore the tiniest measure of a smile on his lips, almost nuzzling into her warm embrace while her blushing face looked on in affectionate shock. He was so close to her, in every way a person could be, and this new display of tender loving was making her soul sing with romantic fervor.

Anthony was all descriptions of precious to Mira, and it showed, as the two quietly lay together each not having made a sound since the giant woman had plopped him down onto her body. Mira smiled as her eyes softened to what they beheld, prompting her to gently lower her head back down and hopefully not shift or disturb her comfortable little pet. She kept her eyes trained on the ceiling for a few minutes, allowing her fluttering thoughts of compassionate emotions to tickle the small, innocent spaces within her twisted heart.

Mira’s mind was racing, though her body was spent and exhausted, her feelings for Anthony alone kept her awake for the time being. She wanted to keep him all to herself, and she was truly jealous of this new problem with Allison, but as she reflected on what she and Anthony had been through thus far over the last month, and particularly the last few weeks, she knew she had the human beat in the contest for the prize of her favorite person. Mira trusted Anthony, and she was really starting to find herself hoping she could discover a way to help him trust her back, not for the purposes of avoiding the damnation of eternal punishment, but because she wanted to be with him, and all relationships, she knew, were based on trust.

The demonette’s eyes closed heavily, the weight of the day’s exciting course, the issues faced with Allison, and the pleasurable finish to the night, all contributed to draining her already faded supply of energy. For a fleeting moment, she worried about falling asleep with Anthony exposed on her chest, so close to her body and susceptible to being injured by a simple, careless roll of her sleeping habits, but she resigned herself to ignore the danger as best as she could. Mira's goal was for him to trust her, and while she could maybe help prove that by moving him to safety, she just couldn’t bring herself to separate him from her.

Mira exhaled deeply as her mind embraced temporary unconsciousness, Anthony she could tell was already asleep and had used her heart’s beating as a sort of rhythmic lullaby to aid him in finding rest. She wanted to hold and cuddle him, regardless of what he’d think or if he’d use that gesture of affection as a future source of playful teasing. The young woman wanted more than anything right now to feel her body safe within his arms, and listen to his own heartbeat, allowing herself, even if just for a single night, or even a moment, to imagine a world where it beat for only her.

#    #    #    #   

Birds were chirping, loudly, but somehow not enough to be considered an annoyance, instead adding sharp yet subtle tweets of pleasant, morning ambiance. Sunlight was warm on Anthony’s face, bright and trying to bring him out of a long, much needed night of heavy rest, despite his mind’s refusal to stir into focus. He shifted his legs with his eyes closed, he was on his back, and on the floor he found, the soft touch of the familiar carpet floor inside Mira’s apartment firm and bearably comfortable, but as he tried to adjust his knees and change into a different posture, he felt weight pressing down on top of them hindering his range of motion.

Anthony tried to shift again, this time his attempt accompanied by a sigh and a half-grumble of distaste for the early hour. It didn’t move very much this time either, but he didn’t care, he was too tired to worry about it, the man instead resting his head back down onto the surface which he’d awaken with it snuggled against. He reflexively inhaled a deep breath of oxygen to get his lungs relaxed and prepared to return to sleep, but he was awake enough to detect a strong odor within the receptors of his nose. He took a whiff of the air and then realized there was something like hair brushing up against the skin of his face, and especially his cheek where he’d rested it down.

Anthony opened his eyes, suddenly surprised and quickly feeling his mind and skin wash red with infatuation as they did so. Mira, his half-human, half-demon roommate was asleep in his arms, head nuzzled in the right shoulder and pectoral of his body, his own apparently situated on the top of hers as the two had slept the night together. The man’s right arm was beneath her and holding the sleeping girl close, as her own right hand was positioned on his chest, just above his thumping blood muscle which had now started to race.

Anthony blinked a few times, unsure if he was dreaming or not. He was normal sized, and now lazily and comfortably enjoying some very intimate personal time cuddled with Mira on the floor. Weirdly enough, the man found himself trying not to panic, as if the proximity to his female roommate could be broken or stolen away by his surprise and ill reaction. Mira’s right leg was bent at the knee and positioned over Anthony’s hip, her body fully embracing his, with her pelvis pressed up against and spooning with his side. She was still resplendent in her pretty sundress, as was he in his previous day’s attire, but as he lay there taking the opportunity to examine the girl, her hair messy and unkempt, and the voluptuous curves of her whole body snuggled and latched onto his own, he knew he’d never before looked upon her with such attraction.

Anthony tried to shift his hand over to his nearby phone, intending to scoop it up and instinctively check the time, remembering today was a day Mira had to go in for work. As he barely began to do so, the apparently sleeping girl clawed her fingers closed around his shirt, holding his body in place as she let out a groan that she coated with a growl. Eyes still closed, Mira’s lip twitched as her nostrils sniffed the air, like an animal at rest checking its surroundings with its heightened, alternative senses.

The young man looked down at her with a smile and whispered, pulling her gently against his chest with a small move of his arm, signaling to her that he was awake,

“You’re going to be late if you don’t get up soon…”

Mira didn’t answer, and instead returned back to asleep, and for the first time since Anthony had met her, as he watched her chest rise and fall peacefully without a care in the world, he didn’t mind that she was silent.

Cylinders turned and cycled smoothly as explosive compression pushed them over and over with the low grumble of the healthy engine, Anthony’s prized sports car running at a muted idle, the vehicle parked in front of Mira’s place of employment as he waited patiently to pick her up. The young man poked buttons on his phone, texting his roommate who was on her way out from a short day at the store, as well as his best friend who was droning on about a previous date the night before. Anthony was disinterested in Kyle’s recounting of the evening, telling him about some girl Anthony apparently knew that he’d started seeing. Looking up from his screen and out the front of his windshield, he spotted Mira coming out with her bag and work apron bundled up in her hands, already coming towards where he usually parked when he came, regularly now, ever since the first time that was a favor, to take her home. 

Anthony placed his cell phone into his pocket, quickly undoing his seat belt and getting out to greet the approaching girl, closing the door and starting to walk around the front end of the car.

“You know,” Mira said in her normal, casual tone, but garnished with a hint of endearment, “you don’t have to open the door for me literally every time I need to get in. I do actually have my own hands.”

Ignoring her mild protestations, the young man dressed appropriately relaxed shorts and a white shirt tugged on the door handle and offered her the seat, standing aside and smiling.

“I’m aware,” he says flatly with a dismissive gaze that casts up and away from her.

“Then why do you keep doing it, huh?” She says as she halts before stepping inside, the shined jet-black of the interior mirroring the exterior with equal vibrancy.

“Because, it’s polite, and I like to think I’m a polite guy.”

Mira sighs and looks up at him with a raised eyebrow along with what seems like a smile marked with mock pity. She honestly thinks it sweet, all the little habits of his that displays his obviously courteous qualities. Anthony genuinely doesn’t do things like this for Mira in hopes of getting anything in return, such as a reward or praise, but because he feels like it’s the way she deserves to be treated. The young man is just a gentleman, which never ceases to amaze the dark-haired woman.

“You just need some more breaking in.” She says lowly to just the pair as she slowly shakes her head at him, getting inside trying to hide her smile. The door comes closed with a thud as Anthony rolls his eyes grinning out of sight, making his way around the hood, pausing near the driver’s side door and poking at his phone for a few moments, reading and quickly responding to an apparent message.

Mira is adjusting her hair in the visor’s mirror after removing her black elastic tie, fluffing herself and pulling out knots, as well as whatever else she finds unsightly, as Anthony shuts his door and continues to read his phone silently to himself.

The human male looks up for a brief second as if looking off into the distance of the parking lot searching for an answer or hint to what questions have just flooded his mind, the message contents clearly having an effect on him as he picked them from the screen. His eyes narrow as if focusing, debating…and he maintains a neutral demeanor as Mira turns to regard him, her gorgeous brown hair a bit messy as she suddenly ceases with her girlish habit.

“What? What’s wrong?” she says looking about him with minutely raised concern.

Anthony reaches up with his left hand and scratches behind his ear, inhaling before reporting, matter-of-factly,

“Kyle is dating Allison. He just told me.” He says, turning to face her as well, looking slightly anxious himself.

The two don’t make a sound for a few moments as they understandably keep eye contact, both waiting for the other to start speaking with what could be an important conversation on a delicate situation. Allison had proved herself to be a cause for alarm about two weeks prior when she had visited the apartment while Anthony had been miniaturized. She had seen him, though had not noticed him by chance, and it was due to this fact that this newest development seemed to the pair as not exactly coincidental.

Mira broke the silence first.

“Does that seem like something that would naturally happen between them?”

Anthony thought carefully before responding, he wanted to be sure he didn’t leave any mental stone unturned, as in his reply, the more detail or insight he provided, the better chance Mira, who had what seemed a preternatural analytical mind, might connect important variables.
“Well?” she said lowly, pressing him, but not with impatience.

“They seemed like friends for a long time, but he never really made a move on her or voiced his interest in her to me. He talked about her a bit, and when he had told me he was inviting her to the party a while back, he had mentioned he knew she’d sort of be available…”

He shakes his head a bit and frowns looking off for a moment, then returning his eyes to Mira,

“I don’t know, it’s too weird to just pass off as coincidence, but they could just be dating by chance… It does worry me that she chose him after she knew I had a slight problem…but they went to the party together before that, you know? Maybe that means we’re just looking too deeply into things.”
“She could have known about you before the party, and only now show us that…No… She much smarter than that.” Mira said slightly trailing off. “She knew we’d ask these kinds of questions once we found out. Something’s gotta be up.”

Anthony nods and taps the steering wheel with his fingers in contemplation, he’s known about her for some time, though just as an acquaintance, but now she has the capability to be much more involved with his predicament, getting closer to him through Kyle. But why?

“You haven’t hung out with her or talked with her like I told you, right?”

Mira suddenly fixes him with a hard stare and fractionally tilts her head to judge his answer, no matter how certain she feels he won’t lie.

He meets her gaze and lowers his voice, not falling from the small challenge,” No,” he says plainly and firm, “I wouldn’t want to talk with her anyways. Even before this nonsense.”

The curious demonette eyes him for a bit, just as he briefly pauses and decides to continue further,

“Its…” he starts while keeping her as of yet, less threatening gaze, taking his opportunity to try and take his chance before its gone, “Its kinda cute how you get jealous, Mira. Despite it being completely unnecessary.”

Without skipping a beat, and somehow projecting anger regardless of the fact that she has neither raised her voice nor changed her demeanor, the young girl responds as a few strands of her earthen brown hair drape down over her right eye, “Go ahead, keep going.” She was, of course, being sarcastic, Mira wanted to tempt him with what she truly wanted herself, flattery and compliments that stoked her feelings for him, but at the present time so she could use it against him later, as an excuse to toy with him after 7 pm. Either outcome was a win for her of course though.

“See how that turns out for you if you want, I have a funnel at home you can make friends with later if you try it.”

Anthony blinked and gave a face as if he’d been struck physically across his jaw, the surprise and complete disbelief clear in his eyes. A large number of questions, but more importantly, fears, flooded his mind in an instant. What in god’s name could that possibly imply?

“A-a funnel?!” He stammered out, all notions of patience or resistance gone.
Mira is silent, and instead of nodding or saying anything more, she simply winked at him, as if all the answers that needed to be found were within that small gesture that passed between the pair as she watched the young man across from her melt with anxiety.

#    #    #    #

Mira heard the light clang of keys on the table as she was turned kicking off her work shoes, additionally tossing away her black work apron to the far corner of the living room, glad to not only be rid of it, but also excited that she would not need it for a whole three days. She had come upon her weekend with glee this week, knowing she would get a longer than usual period of rest due to a holiday she had not been scheduled to work.

Mira turned and spied Anthony stretch and yawn as she relieved herself of the things she took with her to work.

“You headed home?” She asked, trying to seem casual, and purposefully skipping a, "thank you," she owed him for picking her up from the store. The pair had spent many of their recent days together, and of course, every night in each other’s company as time had gone on, but there were days here and there that Anthony had to tend to other things or responsibilities, just as Mira did with work and school.

“Actually, I was hoping it would be ok if I hung out here, I’m free today.” He said with a smile, though underneath that he was subtly nervous. Mira could tell he was still anxious around her, and as time went on, she understood that it was for a combination of different reasons. Sometimes, she made him anxious with her playful tendencies, and others, he was just plain nervous because she could tell he liked her. She knew this because she felt the same way and often faced the same problem.

“I suppose,” she said lazily drooping her eyelids, “Though if you want to play video games, I have to admit, you’re not much of a challenge.”

Exhaling after his muscles loosened with his back, Anthony glares over at her as she smiles back with a smirk, replying, rising to the bait,
“You stop your nonsense; we both know you just cheese at every game. All you care about is winning when we play games.”

The last sentence seems to spring the trap as it leaves Anthony’s lips, the words tripping across a trigger Mira has placed for her unwitting prey during the conversation, setting up the possibility of an entertaining night she’s quietly been planning since she got to work late in the afternoon.

The half-human girl takes slow steps over towards the young man, her right-hand index finger tracing across the back of her couch as she exaggerates her slow movements, lowering her voice to a whisper as she reaches Anthony near the kitchen table.

“What else is there to life, hmm? I suppose if someone like you didn’t understand like I do what it means to be superior, they’d feel like there was some kind of option otherwise.”

The man before her had fallen quiet, at times there were subtle things that reminded Anthony that the girl he was spending most of his time with wasn’t actually completely human, that she was more, in every facet of the description. She was indeed half a girl, and half…Something else.

“Birds that are born in cages will always think themselves, free,” Mira quoted with eerie poetic finesse, the words dripping truthful venom that sunk in deep to the back of Anthony’s mind as he sought to comprehend much of what was unfortunately beyond him.

“Just because I’m not you,” Anthony began in a low reply the same volume as Mira had spoken, “doesn’t mean I can’t understand you,” he said, arguing a point that he firmly believed in, “so show me,” he said with finality. Anthony was not shrinking from the fact that Mira was clearly dangerous, nor that she fully intended to abuse him physically and mentally throughout their future together, but he fully intended, for the time being anyway, to learn anything he could about his gorgeous roommate. All things good, and bad, without a particular bias in mind.

“If you’re asking me to teach you what it means to be entirely inferior to me, don’t worry,” Mira said softly, her feminine tone strumming the fragile, threaded chords of Anthony’s heart. She leaned in close to the side of his head, a smile coming to her face with a playful grin just out of his view, the inappropriate dreams she kept inside herself about him now showing in the shined teeth of her mouth as her tongue tested the sharpness of her fang-like canine.

“I intend to.”

#    #    #    #

The TV droned on with a low blurb of dialogue and quiet background music, every so often changing visual frames and scenes as Mira’s favorite show went on, the young woman spread out lengthwise across her couch as her roommate lay on the floor, perpendicular to the long piece of furniture.

The two had gotten home about 5:45, and after Mira had changed and put on her favorite weekly series, they had both laid down to watch it. Anthony liked the show, which surprised Mira initially, it certainly was not a show for guys, or at least she had assumed, being about home redecoration done by a wealthy northeastern couple around the country. The young man had been sitting next to her until he had begun to drift, and Mira had to admit she was a little disappointed when he chose to lay on the floor instead of rest his head in her lap, though she reminded herself with frustration that she was the one to set the boundaries of their current situation.

Her mind drifted away from the TV, now distracted by the resting boy she had growing intimate feelings for. He was so peaceful, and all around simply lovely to just behold, and now she could do it while she knew he couldn’t witness her staring.  She often found like now, when her emotions fluttered for Anthony, she often wanted his attention or especially desired to touch him, and she was currently just barely resisting both, opting to let him sleep.

Mira’s phone buzzed beneath her soft brown blanket, and she groped around for where it was sitting on the sofa next to her, bringing it up and to her eyes as the screen flashed full and bright. A text had come from a co-worker, Alexis, a girl a little younger than her whom Mira found relatively tolerable, especially when compared with most of her coworkers. Bemoaning having to remain for closing time, and talking about what she and the other female employees had spoken of during their lunch period without Mira. The brown haired girl did not dislike having friends, but she often found their mundane human activities or concerns dull and pointless. She already knew she was not very well liked in the female group, and that in the largely male portion of the store she had virtually no friends either, after a particularly memorable denial she’d given one guy when she heard he was planning to ask her out. Mira had practically publically humiliated him, he was a typical jerk, unintelligent, and of course purely looking towards aesthetics in regards to Mira, but she made it purposefully harsh to deter anyone else who may have thought to try in future. And, unsurprisingly, nobody had. 

When Mira glanced up and over to where Anthony was, he was tiny now but still resting without a care in the world, the digital clock in the corner of the demonette’s phone reading 7:01 in faint white text. She had tried not to wake him because she liked to watch him sleep, but also because she knew that when he changed while he was awake, it often caused him pain, and still, though with less frequency thankfully, to cough up blood from places she was not certain of.

She looked down and over at him, now less easily finding his small rising and falling chest relaxed and fallen to sleep quietly. As softly as Mira could, she reached down and took the TV remote, turning the show on mute to keep the sound from waking her precious tiny friend.

Ever since the night Mira had killed Anthony, and he had suddenly returned to life by means beyond either of their understanding, things had been a rollercoaster ride of developments and challenges. Anthony was, at least to her understanding, doing better now that things had rather begun to settle in his mind. He was stuck this way, and despite it technically being temporary, a year was a long time relatively speaking.

Mira watched his small side heave up and down slowly, he was on the floor, uncovered, while she was up on the soft couch wrapped in a blanket. The young woman felt guilty about that, and she quietly added that problem to the list of things the pair were both trying to work around. The bathroom thing was easy, that sort of necessity had been worked out between the two extremely early on, as had eating and food, but smaller, less significant things, like the lack of a blanket or pillow for Anthony was becoming a concern in her mind. Mira wanted to take care of her precious, tiny, boy-crush, and in some ways, she knew she could do better.

“Hey,” she found herself saying suddenly, in a voice a little louder than she had intended.

Anthony jerked slightly, immediately brought out of sleep, but still a bit disoriented. He lifted his torso up with his elbow and looked over to Mira as she turned and set her feet onto the ground, shedding her covers, revealing her black tank top and matching white-trimmed dark boy shorts.

“Are you falling asleep on me?” The girl high above said as she looked down at him with feigned disinterest, hiding her appreciation of his currently adorable state as he rubbed one of his eyes.

“I… I hadn’t planned on it, but I’m pretty tire-“

She cut him off, placing her hands flat upon the top curves of her thighs, cocking her head as she replied in turn with seeming confusion.

“But we haven’t even played yet tonight, how do you expect me to sleep with all this energy?”

“Wait, played?” Anthony came back with, clearly confused, and probably because this was the first instance of Mira mentioning something like this so formally.

“You’re so inconsiderate of my needs, how can guys be so dumb?”

That last one got Anthony standing, back up now to his feet and glaring up at his friend, “Wait a second!? Did you just call me dum-“

“It’s like, the smaller they get, the more idiotic they get! Can you believe that Anthony?!” She left her words hanging intentionally as she brandished a huge smile, emulating fake surprise or revelation, obviously baiting him to argue with her or take direct offense.

“No,” he pointed a single index finger accusingly towards her general direction, “I’m not rising to your stupid teasing.”

He stammered out his next words as she narrowed her eyes down at him playfully, “You expect me to tire you out?!

“I expect you to do whatever I say, but that’s beside the point…,” she purred down to him with a small bit of joking sympathy.

Anthony felt his arms go heavy and wither like they were made of paste, this girl, as amazing as she was, was almost certainly going to be the death of him one day; again.

As if she could sense this in him, Mira stood suddenly, making the small, ant-sized man on the floor who was now dangerously before her wiggling toes, flinch in response to her towering movements. She loved putting him in situations or plans that made him uncomfortable, of that she was certain, but something she wasn’t so sure of is if he was starting to like it or not himself. She thought to remind herself to ask before the night was over.

“But look, think of it this way, no one has ever managed to wear me out, you nasty bug-boy. I think that by itself is already kind of an awesome reward. Don’t you think?”

Anthony, unable to hold himself in, blushed red and daringly held up a fist in response to that last name she had come up with recently. It was clear that he didn’t think that was sufficient, so Mira knew just how to entice him further.

“I’ll tell you what, if you actually find a way to do that, I’ll give you something in return, how’s that sound? We can make it even, and I promise I’ll do whatever you ask!”

Still red, and now grinding out his answer, a frightening memory circulating in his thoughts that had been for a while at least, buried until now.

“This is oddly similar to when you wanted me to choose my own method of execution, you know.”

“Oh come on, this is just a little bit of fun, I swear. I promise I won’t hurt you… Though if you hurt yourself, that’s not on me. I just want to be clear on that.” She finished, rather hurriedly, which worried Anthony for longer than he anticipated it would.

Anthony knew this whole thing was ridiculous. Mira loved to cheat in games, or cheese a strategy that had her in a clear, unfair advantage, but even as the small man reminded himself of that, he swore again and again, after all this time, he would see himself best Mira in one of these ludicrously dangerous forms of mitigating her boredom.

As the tiny insect-sized human pondered for a moment, Mira knelt down and placed one knee to either side of her insignificant prey, the black boy shorts she had put on after work to relax in stretch tight around her firm and taut musculature. The material of the attractive garment, Anthony could imagine, was straining and willing itself not to tear and allow her feminine curves to burst out from beneath as the simple act of settling down pushed them to their limits, something he watched with not-so-mild admiration.

The gigantic demonette placed her hands on her knees and bent over slightly, the act of doing so bringing her plump and full chest looming overhead so that her small playmate could enjoy her natural feminine assets to the most alluring degree possible. Mira didn’t tilt her head down, but tracked her eyes towards the tiny Anthony as he, in turn, gaped up slightly in awe of her casual, sensual display. She smiled down to him, chewing on her bottom lip slightly as she felt the warm wash of pleasure flow over her body at the prospect of what to come soon enough.

Her voice slithered out, like a beautiful snake with the promise of the sweetest, lethal toxin imaginable behind its trance-inducing, deadly eyes,

“Come on Anthony,” she whispered, “don’t you want to play with me?”

Anthony felt his heart skip a beat and simultaneously detonate in his throat, and even more alarmingly, felt a slight twitch somewhere else that he certainly didn’t want to reveal or acknowledge at the present moment. He burned brightly in his cheekbones as he began to cough into his fisted hand profusely, unable to catch his breath after the display of weaponized temptation his roommate wielded with such casual grace.

Mira blinked once as her back went straight in surprise, her demeanor reacting, maybe even slightly out of her control, with concern, as her little friend seemed to gag on something the next second in the conversation.

“Are you alright?” she said, genuinely inquiring as to his well-being.

Yeah,” he coughs again into his hand,” Yeah, I’m. I’m alright, just… I mean…”

“Do I take your breath away?” Mira asked with a smile and a proud posture, sitting upright straighter as if she were a statue on display, turning her torso side to side a quick couple of times for good measure.

Anthony coughs a final time and mumbles out, “yeah, you are quite something, I must admit. But you need to calm down, I thought you just wanted to stay friends through all this.”

 Mira resumes her allure and teasing as she repositions her body again to be more tempting, now that she’s realized her small companion has choked because of her.

“I didn’t say the whole time, just until I could control my need to kill you. And I’m quite proud of myself you know, I’ve gone a long time without a relapse, and trust me,” she lowers her voice further as well as also bringing her face down and closer to the small man, “you’re quite hard to resist.”

“Hey!” Barks the brown-haired man, “Bad demonette! Bad! Down, girl!” He snaps a finger and indicates to the floor with his extended index, as if training a literal animal.

Mira raises an eyebrow and smirks, finding, uncharacteristically to her, a slight tinge of enjoyment at his humorous actions, “Trying to give me orders again I see. And what would you do if I indulged you, huh? You’d be like a dog who caught its own tail.”

“I like to think I’d have a lot of fun with that, like turning the tables you know?”

It was to the demon girl, a fun prospect indeed, and though she felt it was way too early to reward Anthony with something like that, Mira definitely put that idea to the back of her mind for later in the future.

“You don’t deserve to be in charge of me,” she pauses and says her final word on the matter as she rolls her eyes down at him, “not anytime soon anyways. There’s no way you could handle my kind of bratty-ness.”

 “I’ve got it,” clicked Anthony’s fingers again, this time due to a decision he’d just made, “I know what want when I win,”

“If,” came Mira instantly, “if you win, snack.”

He ignored her use of what he knew was a pet name for him, many of the variants now that the pair had spent so much time together coming out over time.

“First, what do you want if you win? I wanna save mine for the shock value. Let’s hear yours first!”

Mira considered this for a moment, but nothing about what her opponent had said worried her, so she allowed him this condition. It could even make things a little more interesting, she pondered.

“Alright then, if I win, I get to put you in my mouth for 10, uninterrupted seconds.”

Anthony almost lost his balance and fell back down to the carpet, eyes wide and voice stuttering at the prospect of losing with these new, very dangerous stakes.

“W-what?! Are you out of your mind?! I’m not getting in there!"

“Listen, you either agree to the game, and have a chance at avoiding it, or I just grab you without a second thought, right now, and you deal with it for however long I want.”

That seemed to motivate Anthony quite well she saw, and very shortly after with almost no thought at all he continued, though with silly, pointless protestations and not agreement.

“Look, isn’t that, you know, a little dangerous?! Like, extremely high levels of not ok?”

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry, I’m really starting to get over feeling all maniacal and crazy, I swear.”

“That doesn’t help reassure me.”

“Oh,” she said continuing as if Anthony hadn’t voiced his concern, “Also you have to squirm and wiggle around, I’ve really been looking forward to this so promise you’ll make it good for me!”

“Wait, you want me to WHAT?! And you’ve been looking forward to this?!”

“So what was it you wanted again?” Mira said with an eager, sincere smile across her face, the idea of savoring her pet human’s body in her mouth making it water.

The young man blinked a few times, still a little lost in his rising apprehension, but reminding himself that Mira’s patience had limits, true to form. This idea of hers was absolute madness, but if there was indeed a chance he could avoid it, he needed to take that opportunity, before the imposing female grew bored with his stalling or hesitation.

“Ok, ok, so I can ask for anything? Right?”

Mira raises an eyebrow at his question, and suddenly acts very serious with a flash of reluctant indulgence, “Within reason…”

“Alright, alright, If I win, I get to see your room finally. This secret of yours has gone on long enough, and I think I’ve earned that much.”

“You what?! You want to see my room?” Mira said as her cheeks flared red and her back went erect again with mild discomfort and surprise, “why?”

“I was of the understanding that I could have anything within reason, and I think that’s pretty reasonable…” he let his words hang before he finished, seeing in Mira’s reaction that he’d really struck it rich with his request, “or are you just a giant chicken?”

This slight bit of teasing, amplified by Mira’s sudden discomfort, yielded a particularly terrifying result that no one in their right mind could have ever prepared for. Mira moved faster than thought, so quick that Anthony was on his back after the amount of time it took her to move into position overhead to threaten his tiny life. Mira loomed above him, like a giant feline that had finally caught it’s prey, her index finger with its painted digit poised merely a few feet in his small scale from his face, the ripples and ridges of her enormous print and the sharp, albeit rounded, point of her nail like a the edge of a medieval guillotine. The girl was blushing, but growled through an angry display of shining teeth as her nostrils flared with rising fury.

“If you ever, EVER, call me a chicken again! I swear to god I will murder you! I’ll kill you so graphically, whatever waits for me in hell will be totally worth it, you little maggot!”

Anthony was on his back, one hand raised as he flinched at every word the enraged goddess spat from her fanged maw. He felt his bowels try to empty, though thankfully they were empty, as the purity of the girl’s rage flowed down and overcame him before his heart had a chance to beat. Mira’s eyes were fixated on his now trembling form as she brought her voice back to a whisper, her scornful gaze and shouting lips just behind her extended index finger.

“Got it...?” She said in a hushed tone down at him, the tiny, terrified man only nodding in return hastily, his voice gone, far away, understandably like his courage.

Mira kept her stare and set both hands, palms facing down on either side of her little friend. Her anger had shot up to a surprisingly hot measure in such a short time due to embarrassment, she had forgotten what it felt like to have normal, or even slightly varied emotions. The pair looked at one another with silent consideration, Anthony, predictably terrified, and Mira, now growing slightly excited and feeling as always, still ever playful regardless of her sudden outburst. The moment of vigor reminded her that she was in complete and total control of everything Anthony did, and the feeling of that undisputed fact made her tingle inside and out as result. She concluded in that same thought process, that she could still have fun and get what she wanted, without giving Anthony a chance at all.

“I’ve changed my mind,” she stated plainly down to him, her voice back to quiet and sincere, “we’re not playing games anymore…”

“W-wait, wha-?” Anthony stammered, trying to grasp her meaning.

“Shut up.”

Her tone was deadly serious and it made the nervous young man clamp his lips together in immediate obedience. Mira wasn’t usually commanding to the point Anthony feared bodily injury, usually, she was just assertive enough to the level of superiority, but now the small human could feel in the air she had had enough, and was pushed too far with his slight insult.

She licked her lips slowly and with somehow menacing thoroughness. Anthony gulped as Mira opened her mouth, with deliberately labored pacing, uttering a word that made her heart begin to race.

“Run…,” she whispered with a smile, a grin that would have been pretty if her roommate were at his normal size, now, however, it was a silent promise that she was about to enjoy torturing his body and mind.

“W-“Anthony tried to reply in disbelief.

“I said RUN!” Mira blasted out with a snarl that turned into a psychotic smirk upon seeing him understandably flee.

Anthony was on his feet the next moment and dashing away, his entire body awake and filled with primal energy only tapped into when it meant his very survival. He didn’t think about if his pretty demonette was joking or playing, she was so absolutely convincing of her intentions, that at this point it hardly mattered at all.  He sprinted towards the center of the living room, at a speed he never knew he was capable of, dashing with renewed purpose and going any direction he could, as long as it was away from Mira.

From behind, Anthony felt and heard the booming reverberations of the giant girl’s laughter, her voice and chest undulating as she saw how pathetic his best efforts to escape her were. At about the size of a dime, the minuscule form of a person scurried away about two feet as Mira finished laughing, now crouching to her hands and knees like a prowling lion about to pounce on an unfortunate gazelle, her strong thigh muscles and wondrous posterior on display behind her. 

Anthony ran and ran, and after a few heart-pounding moments, he felt the ground quiver as Mira began her short chase. With a sudden, frightening motion, the image of a human palm filled the man’s vision as Mira’s enormous right hand crashed down in front of him, sending his body backwards almost to the ground with the impact. She giggled and shook her head down at his feeble attempts at eluding capture.

“I swear, it's almost sad to watch you run for your life. I barely moved and caught up to you and you’re already panting. Come on, you can do better than that!”

Anthony wheeled around and tried to move from the wall of flesh so casually placed before him by the towering woman, bolting away as if on instinct in the opposite direction, despite that being towards where Mira actually sat grinning high above. The monolithic gathering of fingers lifted with unreal speed skyward and away, though to the demonette she simply raised and lowered her hand again with no effort at all on her part, slamming it down and corralling Anthony once more, cutting off his current path, this time sending him to the ground in alarm.

The small man stumbled back, scooting away from the heart-stopping appearance of the back of the same hand, and hesitated to rise again. Mira, getting more creative, gathered her digits together save for her index and middle finger, and propped them up on the floor before her small prey, imitating a pair of human legs with colored nail ends. She walked them along towards his sprawled out position, intentionally giving him time to get up and renew his attempts to run from her.

“I wouldn’t let me catch you if I were you…,” she said, letting her words hang in the air.

Anthony, hearing her momentarily speak less threateningly, tried to seize his chance to voice his own concerns.

“Mira, seriously! Stop it!” He shouted as he rose and began backing away from her encroaching pair of slender digits.

“Less talking, more running. I’m not bored yet, so you still have a reason to live.”

The walking fingers were nearly upon Anthony as he turned fully and ran, Mira, in turn, increasing their slow pace to just slightly faster to keep up with him.

As Mira’s hand neared, she lightly flicked her index finger and took her little toy’s legs out from under him, toppling him over her nail and tripping him back to the floor with a small gasp and a thud. Anthony rolled onto his back, still panicked but otherwise not seriously injured, looking up as the brown-haired vixen placed one finger either side of where he fell, bouncing them up and down as if they possessed a mind of their own and were as eager to play with him as their owner was.

Faster than Anthony could ever hope to react, Mira placed her main fingertip onto his body and held him in place, feeling him react with fright and sudden efforts to try hopelessly in vain to squirm out from beneath. He was, absolutely powerless, like a tiny boat in a hurricane, completely at the mercy of the crushing power of mother nature, and it gave the giant girl a wash of warm pleasure to see he knew it in his eyes.

She could feel both of his minuscule hands trying in laughable futility to push her off and away, she could smell, and lightly sense, his body sweating with exertion as the little game came to a climax now with his inevitable capture.

Mira pushed down lightly and heard Anthony gasp, shutting his eyes as she delicately squeezed the remains of oxygen from his lungs, protected as they were by bones she could easily grind to dust with the tiniest bit of pressure on her careless part.

She lifted her finger back up and felt her small friend gasp in a great heave of air, coughing slightly as his body jerked in reaction to her ceasing her lightest touch. To the surprise of the struggling man, Mira began to speak again, with a question he didn’t have the time to prepare for, but pertained to the situation at hand.

“Do you ever feel any other kind of reaction to stuff like this, insect?”

Anthony only blinked in response at first, out of breath and completely taken aback by the inquiry, and when he did find his voice, he could not deviate from his initial honest thoughts.

“What- what do you mean, reactions?”

“Like, does this do it for you, me being bigger and more powerful than you? Do you like it?”

Anthony coughed as Mira awaited his answer, thoughts floating around in his distracted mind about how, or what to say in reply. He was going to be honest, that he was sure of, but he felt a great deal of sudden embarrassment at the truth. He did actually find he was enjoying it in a much more intimate way. Anthony had never met someone like Mira, unquestioningly dominant, unpredictable, sensual, but also creative, smart, and kind when she wanted to be. All these things, combined with his newfound, “kink,” and how the universe had concocted a plot to pair the two of them together in such a way to make something as unconscionable, real, had genuinely in fact, “done it,” for him, as Mira had suggested.

“Yeah,” he nodded, as he blurted it out, panting for air, “it does it for me. Why do you ask?”

The goddess above shrugged and made a smile of confirmation.

“I just wanted to hear you say it before I ate you.”

The panic returned to Anthony as his chest chilled to the core in an instant, his blood running cold in his veins and his spine-tingling with trepidation.

“Y-you what?”

Without another moment passing Mira plucked Anthony from the floor, his shaking body in between her massive fingers as she brought him up, level with her smiling face, her eyes still angled down to watch with pleasure as he wiggled with feeble, useless strength.

“I’ve had a lot of fun with you these last few weeks, but you’re just so much more trouble than you’re worth. And now that you’re all nice and salty, I think now’s the best time to finally get a taste of you.”

Anthony couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and his eyes betrayed this fact in an instant, one that Mira clearly saw.

“But look, you were a lot of fun, and I actually have grown feelings for you, but you’re just so irresistible, you know? Why do you have to be so tempting, huh?”

“Mira, what are you thinkin-“

“Which reminds me, would you like to know how I killed my first human?”

Mira rotates her hand so that Anthony’s ear faces her ominous mouth, simultaneously bringing him over to her lips and lowering her voice to a whisper, teasing out her small, cruel secret.

“I ate her, just like I’m about to eat you… She was just food to me, like you are now. There’s no way you’ll fill me up, not even if I ate dozens of people your size. I’m not eating you because I need to. No. I’m going to savor your body like a treat. Keep that in mind when you die. Remember, you’re my favorite.” She breathes out slowly and winks at him, no longer an act of cute or humorous personality, now, simply a brief veritable flirt with death.

“Wait! Mira!” Shouts Anthony as she tilts her head back slightly, keeping her eyes on him as she parts her lips and teeth, revealing the dark pit of her mouth. Anthony feels the heat of her breath flow out and cover him uncomfortably, the long, slender red muscle of her tongue curling out like a sinister welcome mat as he sees it and the upper portion of her roof drip saliva down. She’s actually salivating at his imminent demise, a hunger he never understood until it has now literally and physically manifested before him.

The small human now held above the gorgeous beast’s sticky maw, pinched between her index finger and thumb, starts to scream as she releases him into the embrace of gravity without pause or ceremony, his body falling without mercy passed her lips and into the hot darkness of her mouth. Anthony is instantly wet as he tumbles onto the soft surface of her slippery tongue and knocks into one of her enormous molar teeth towards the back of the moist cavern. He looks up just in time to see the light of the room disappear as Mira makes a small, “nom,” sound, closing her lips.

In total darkness now, hearing small drips of Mira’s spit and other fluids fall around him as well as her body’s inner workings, he’s suddenly shoved by an unseen brute, a thick and strong form pushes him mercilessly back and forth as he gasps and cries out in muted pleas for release. The girl’s tongue, huge and powerful like an overly rounded serpent, strokes and bullies him around and around, covering and touching every inch of his body with small bumps and veins that all seem to want to have a turn with their latest savory morsel. 

Mira outside has her eyes closed and lets out a small moan as she lowers her head and keeps her little treat from sliding down her throat too early. Her hands are placed palms down and flush with the floor, fingers digging into the carpet as she scrapes her nails trying to control her rising ecstasy. She tumbles little Anthony around her mouth, pushing him forcefully, but gently against her teeth licking his exposed body. She flicks her tongue’s tip beneath his shirt, stroking his covered back and chest, finding unfortunately to her frustration that she can’t seem to get under his lower half’s garments when she finishes there. She curls her natural manipulator and feels her small snack plop into a rounded, cup-like shape she’s made with herself in order to suck on his salted body, now that he’s thoroughly covered in saliva. Mira sucks lightly on the invisible mass of the man inside her mouth, tasting his sweat, the familiar tinge of human zest, and, more importantly, her snack’s natural flavors, which are unique to him. Mira feels her chest swell and her taste buds sing with harmonic beauty at the sensation. Anthony tastes like the most wondrous form of chocolate cake, sweeter and more tantalizing than the most exotic chip of cocoa she’s ever dreamed of in her life. He tastes to her a thousand, no, a million times better than anything else, let alone any person, she’s ever devoured before. Everything about him is perfect.

“10,” she says to herself in her mind and resists the urge to let one of her hands slither down to tease her moistening feminine secret, in addition to stopping herself from reflexively swallowing. Mira instead brings her hand up and places it in front of her mouth, its edge just barely touching her chin as she pushes Anthony over her front row of teeth and to her lips, using her muscly tip to carefully spit him and a string of sticky, clear saliva out safely into her palm. She looks down at him, knowing for certain he’s alive but checking to see if he’s been hurt in any way by accident.

Anthony is panting and on his back, arms out and legs slightly spread as if he’s going to start making a snow angel with the nasty discharge of his roommates interior glands. Mira carefully pinches his soaked shirt and stands him up with a smile that makes a small run of liquid at the off-center part of her lower lip. He’s clearly in shock and unsteady, but he manages to stay up for the time being, strings and layers of gross slime running off his body.

“You alive, my sweet little Anthony?”

The man doesn’t speak, and instead swallows hard and is visibly shaking, staring forward as if at something very, very far away. He can’t think; he can’t move, and even though he doesn’t know it, this is all for a very specific reason.

He grunts suddenly, and gasps out next with exerted effort, seeming like he’s going to vomit for a dozen different reasons as Mira doesn’t take her eyes off him. Anthony shudders as a few mumbled, half-materialized words come out from beneath his breath; even the demonette’s enhanced hearing not quite making sense of what he is stumbling over trying to say. A second or two later, the spent young man’s eyes roll back into his head as his lids close and his body capitulates beneath Mira’s stare, her favorite person collapsing over into a shallow pool of saliva, senses beyond overwhelmed, and out cold, unconscious.

Mira giggles to herself and shakes her head, rolling her eyes and looking up and away for an instant in disbelief. She looks back down to him, knowing full well he’s fine albeit knocked out, and whispers down to him with a little chuckle before rising up and carrying him off to bed with her,

“Light-weight…”

Anthony was about to follow someone who insanely had began to flee in front of his eyes, the athletically cut man no older than himself completely lost to horror and grief and pushed to the point of failed reason.

As he was about to, however, Anthony fell back into the embrace of a solidly built torso, arms clamped to his own chest as a foreign hand came up and seized tightly around his mouth, forcing him quiet.

The ground was shaking, and there was light, but it could not find a way beneath the couch he presently hid beneath for shelter. The young man struggled momentarily and tried to turn his head, to identify the one who was restraining him against his will but found for now he could not. He could only feel the abnormally hot surface of his flesh.

The man, whose name he hadn't learned, was running, and he could clearly see the outline of the college student's form as the panic-stricken soul bolted from under the couch frame and into the light, disastrously into the open. He was not clear of the sofa for long though, having chosen to hide below its veritable cover as Anthony had himself.

In only the span of a couple of heartbeats, the tiny African American man was suddenly lost beneath the mass of a tanned female ped, the shape, and form of which Anthony knew all too well. With pretty white decorated toes, facing parallel to the couch edge, the foot annihilated utterly the man beneath its heartless step. The force was like a moon crashing to earth, and upon seeing this casual disregard for human life, the poor spectator wailed in abject horror as his unknown captor kept his hand over the lower half of his face, keeping him muffled despite the grizzly scene before them. 

Mira's foot slammed the carpet floor, sending out an echo of sound like a cannon discharging, the sheer weight of her bare sole enough to crush savagely the insignificant human garbage trying to flee at her feet. The soft, worn carpet offered no semblance of lessening the impact, and the man whose body had essentially detonated beneath her meager, though to the remaining small men, massive movement, was most assuredly not spared any amount of pain. In one smooth, dismissive motion, she quickly slid her foot backwards, as if trying to rub off or grind away the tiny mangled remains of blood, viscera, and indistinguishable bones, the act itself by her intentions being more like an insult than it did carry any realistic, practical purpose. The former man was now a dead mite, beneath the awesome power of something as simple as a step from her amazing body, and though there were few to witness his end, she treated his short sad attempt at survival with utter indignity and contempt because it was the truth of the universe.

“Shhhh...”

A voice whispered behind Anthony, into his ear, the sound now familiar to him as was the absolute strength of the form that had grabbed a hold of his seated body. The soft, just barely audible warning coming from right next to his skull with an unmistakable hint of excitement.

“She has very good hearing. Be silent.”

Anthony strained lightly still, but did as he was told as his chest undulated out of his control, and sweat ran down the side of his head with anxiety.
Mira's foot came back down after its scrape to where it had crushed its latest victim, a faint red mess and smear the only remains of the person who had been there alive moments ago. She planted her standing form back to a relaxed posture as she spoke to someone unseen, likely between her gigantic fingers high above, held up to her face.

“Wanna try messing with Anthony, or me, now? You disgusting little worm?”
Someone, though it was faint, definitely spoke back as the question burst from the titanic woman's lips, anger and clear animosity resounding within the room as result.

The being of black tribal tattoos and god-like tendencies controlled Anthony's body as he slowly started to settle down, his heavy breathing and muscles coming back under his command as his hysteria started to subside.

“Wait until she's done.”

Anthony felt a tremor in his lungs as his eyes softened in fear and regret at what had just been suggested. When next he replied, he hoped not to lose his composure in doing so.

“But, she's going to kill them!” he whispered sharply back, fighting tears in his eyes.

“Yes, she is.” The large man with slightly elongated canine teeth said,

“Would you like to be among them?”

Anthony's eyes were wide but he didn't reply, he knew what he wanted to say, but Mira spoke again before he could, seemingly taking a sniff of the air, then speaking.

“Your scent is revolting,” she began, obvious distaste in her tone, “So eating you is out of the question. And your little friends trying to scurry away by my toes didn't feel good to me at all to squish."

She pauses for a second before continuing, thinking to herself, "Honestly, I don't even care enough to try and enjoy myself at this point. I just want you dead.“

There was another reply, something was frantically said, though only a loud shriek of, “no,” and, ”please,” were the only discernible syllables in the fearful response.

Mira sighed and muttered out a low comment, darkly not one of anger or of vengeance, but of indisputable boredom.

“Your begging is just annoying to me, in fact, one word pretty much sums up your entire existence at this point. You're just...”

There was noise after that, something that wasn't pleasant, and along with it, came the end of any sounds other than Mira's own voice, which she assumed only she could hear.

“...A nuisance.” She breathed out, as she murdered the last of the group she'd kidnapped and brought home with her and Anthony.


#    #    #    #


-Earlier That Day-


Sizzling and popping. That’s what Anthony was greeted with when he first walked into the kitchen after waking up in his still damp clothing from the previous day. Mira was at the stove, skillet handle gripped and wielding a spatula as she jostled the contents of the pan before her. She glanced up for a second, looking over her shoulder and catching a silent glare from Anthony, who, despite being captivated by his roommate’s glorious morning appearance, could not completely stop his emotions from carrying over from the night before.

She turned back and smiled beyond sight as she called out to him, over the slight noise of cooking,

“I can smell you from here,” she says trying to not laugh.

Anthony wasn’t amused, and was still physically, as well as mentally, recovering from leftover shock.

“You know, you made me think I was going to die. I thought you were genuinely going to kill me...” He said folding his arms and leaning against the far wall slightly.

“Oh you’re fine,” she said casually with a dismissive wave of her utensil.
 
“Besides, we learned a lot from that experience, so it made it all worth it, wouldn't you say? You learned not to be rude, and I learned you taste freakin' amaaaaazing.” She says happily, rolling her eyes upwards and almost moaning out the last word as she stands at the counter edge, one leg straight, the other bent.
 
Anthony feels a tingle of embarrassment at Mira's casual admission and stutters as he partially hesitates to ask for more details.

“I...I taste good?” he says, afterwards raising his right hand and scratching his nose, looking to the floor apprehensively. The remark seems to be a compliment, and though its nature may be slightly dark, he still enjoys Mira's cute, albeit atypical courtesy.

The wondrous female, hair a slight mess that only accentuates her attractiveness, turns her head to behold him, saying next,

“I always knew you would...”

A couple of seconds pass as she turns back to the skillet, continuing her efforts at cooking.

Anthony speaks up again, only more questions coming to mind as his last one is answered.

“Does me being, you know, scared or freaked out have anything to do with it?”

“Eh, it depends on the person, and usually its kind of like, essential. But you,” she says smiling to herself and nodding approvingly, her focus on the eggs and meats she's preparing, “you would taste great without being scared.”

Anthony considers this as he moves over to the table, taking a seat after pulling out a wooden chair. He knows this probably isn't something he should be proud of, as essentially his roommate is saying he's at an increased risk of death in a particularly grim fashion because of it, but he can't help but feel a little proud regardless. Mira has just also commented on something the young man can tell she's been desensitized too, a blackened fact of reality that she's apparently eaten enough people to know everyone has a different flavor, a fact he wisely chooses not to dwell on.

“You had me going last night, you know? I’ll give you that." He chews on his lip recalling the crazy day before, feeling a strange sense of arousal at the fresh memory. "But did you have to be so convincing?”

“If I hadn’t you wouldn’t have tasted so sweet…and I wouldn’t have had as much fun. Don’t you want me to have fun?”

 She says, knowing full well her friend is smarting most about her intent to be as genuine as possible to maintain the illusion of his imminent death. Something that as she has explained, makes things all the more intoxicating for her in the end.

Anthony clears his throat and nods for a moment in return,

“Yes, I want you to have fun,” he says conceding his front. It is true the young man adores making Mira happy, and at the present time, he sees no way of avoiding his own trepidation while simultaneously giving her what she wants. It was definitely a rush to be on the receiving end of Mira’s, “affection,” but he knew he was always going to be surprised by her intense nature, no matter what.

“Just, man, you’re really good at role-playing,” he starts to laugh as he shifts uncomfortably in his slightly heavier than usual shirt.

“Not my fault your fantasy happens to be my fantasy.”


#    #    #    #


Anthony took another bite of eggs, the exquisite texture, and pieces of ham, hotdog, and chives mixed in satisfying his early morning hunger and warming his stomach. Mira was across from him, taking smaller, slower bites and staring over at the young man with slightly wide eyes as he scarfed down her modestly prepared breakfast. She tries not to laugh, and fails, as she asks,  

“Were you hungry?” 

She says trying to resist a follow-up smile and failing at that as well. 

“Mmm!” Anthony swallows as he nods his head and smiles back, “Yeah, but it's also just really good! Seriously! You're really good at cooking!”
 
“Its just eggs and toast,” Mira says dangling her fork over her plate trying to stay modest, elbows resting on the wood surface, cheeks flaring with endearment, “Its nothing special.” 

“Maybe not to you, but I never cook, and you put a lot of meat in here, which I love! I’m sort of a meatysaurus.” 

Mira laughs and takes another bite herself, chewing and talking with the far side of her mouth, growing more comfortable with not having to pretend to be lady-like in situations uncharacteristic of her natural behavior.  

“Yeah, me too, I mean, I like vegetables, but I love chicken, beef, and pork especially. Even though a lot of that is pretty bad for you.” 

“Well, you know what they say,” Anthony begins as he takes a drink, finishing his breakfast, “the best things are bad for you.” 

The pair have been up for a couple of hours by this point, and Mira had taken it upon herself to make the pair some food while Anthony sat at the table after a quick shower, a cleaning which Mira agreed he had desperately needed despite her part in the reason for his filthy appearance. Mira had woken up early, and though she had placed Anthony in her room to sleep, she had moved him to the couch as she had been doing thus far in their partnership, to avoid once again him seeing her private domain. She was silently anxious about when he would bring up yesterday’s game and it’s agreed upon prize, though she knew she didn’t really have to honor the circumstances, and could easily defeat any argument her pet human came up with in rebuttal, in more ways than one. 

Anthony stood and gathered his plate and silverware, stepping over to Mira and gesturing for hers as well, the girl appearing also to be done eating. She handed it to him and stood herself, taking her glass over to the fridge as Anthony put the dishes in the sink nearby, heading back to sit at the table after he’d done so.  

The young man sat looking at his phone, sifting through social media posts and funny gifs, he wore his gym clothes from the day before, as his regular clothes were of course, not something appropriate to be in. In a simple, plain grey t-shirt and some shorts, something he enjoyed wearing as much as Mira did, he traced lines and poked buttons as his roommate opened the fridge about to pour some more juice for herself. 

Mira looked over her shoulder, a hint of excitement about how she was about to break the casual morning with her favorite personal trait, that of unpredictability.  

“So how long have you had a foot fetish?” she said as if nothing were odd or out of place. 

Anthony had just begun taking a drink from his cup as he coughed and choked on small bits of light pulp, the surprise, and subject of the unorthodox question Mira had so easily brought up quickly turning his mind upside-down. He dropped his phone down quickly and coughed into his hand, looking over at his smiling roommate as she turned to close the refrigerator door.  

“Who...Who starts a conversation like that?!” he stammered out in caught entirely off guard. 

“What? It’s just a question.” 

“Well, ok, sure, but don’t you think maybe now isn’t the time?”
 
Mira stepped over to the kitchen counter and lifted herself up and onto it, sitting on the cool platform with her ankles crossed and dangling her legs as she took a sip of her cup’s contents before speaking again. 

“What's wrong with now? It's just the two of us. You swear as if it’s a big deal, it’s really not." She says obviously being truthful and hoping to relax his nerve, "You don’t have to be so embarrassed. I mean, you already know what my kink is, it’s pretty obvious. So I think it’s only fair you shared too.”  
“Right but I mean, it’s…you know… it’s just sorta personal. I don’t just tell everyone things like that! And so randomly too!” 

“Well, good thing I’m not everyone.” She said bouncing her eyebrows humorously as she took another drink, savoring the acidic sweetness of her favorite orange juice brand as she kept her eyes on him expectantly. 

“So come on, tell me. I’m sure you’ll like where I can take things from there.” She says with a smile, setting her cup down, her meaning not entirely clear and deliberately vague, leaving her intent up to Anthony's imagination. 

“Oh jeez,” The man says rubbing his forehead apprehensively; thinking about, despite what Mira has reassured him with, how embarrassed he is and how she might also take advantage of this new information. 

He sighs; Mira is right of course and had noticed quickly, especially from what she had said shortly after they had first been in each other’s company, the truth of his most private thoughts. Anthony is comfortable with his prospective crush and her view of him, but he has to push himself to remember, considering when compared to her own tastes, he’s relatively tame.

“Uh, well,” he starts nervously, trying to go slowly due to anxiety, but also hoping to not come off incredibly weird, “It’s only been since like, the beginning of college or after high school, it's not like I’ve always enjoyed stuff like that. It’s only after I dated a couple of girls that I realized I found that appealing.” 

Mira tries to ignore Anthony's casual mentioning of other girls, she has to remind herself that she asked the question, and she tells herself its unreasonable to assume that others may have been involved in his fantasy at some point. She thinks on that, and then asks,

"So do you have pictures and videos? Do you watch footsie porn?” Mira says with a somewhat excited smile. 

“What?! No!” Anthony says turning bright red as his friend laughs from across the room, “I just know that’s what I’m into, and it’s not like, a huge part of my life or anything. I still obviously like everything else normal guys like, I just particularly enjoy that specifically as well, too. Like people are attracted to eyes or whatever. You know?” 

Mira has her hands on the counter edge as she starts to swing her legs forwards and backwards slowly, unlocking their ankles and narrowing her eyes as she continues next, 

“So, what do you think of mine then?” She says lowly, purposefully trying to fish for some personal compliments, curling her lip and pushing down onto it with her top row of teeth in anticipation of the boy’s answer and hoping its positive.

Anthony hesitates and glances down to the table, licking his lip nervously and clearing his throat, worried at Mira’s coming reaction, but even more scared of what she might do if he foolishly tried to lie. He's hoping she doesn't find his answer creepy or odd, but there's no other alternative.
“Well...They’re... “he makes a nervous, and pointless, throat clearing  noise into his hand's gathered fist, trying to buy himself precious moments, “they're... perfect.” He mutters at last, looking up and over to her as he struggles to remain composed, embarrassment red on his face as he says nothing further.

“Perfect?” Mira says with a smile, pleased with herself, and excited at his appraisal. 

“Like, the best you’ve ever seen? Really?!” She says wearing her grin with rising affection, her eyes lighting up like miniature dark stars in response.
Anthony smiles back anxiously and nods once, certain of his answer as his brown-haired crush beams in response, something that comforts his anxiety and makes him smile even wider. 

Mira hops down from the counter and heads over to where Anthony is seated, placing a finger on his shoulder and saying down to him with an eager instruction.

“Don’t go anywhere I’ll be right back.” She says rushing slightly passed him and heading down the hall.

“Hey! Where are you going?!” Anthony calls after her as she reaches the door to the apartment’s only bedroom.

“Just wait there for a second!” she calls back with enthusiasm, something that is contagious to Anthony as well as he turns back to the table feeling a blend of curiosity and anticipation. 

Mira isn’t gone long, and the young man at the table hears a clanking of sorts as the girl comes back to the kitchen, carrying in both hands a small plastic box of about a dozen or different colors of nail polish, in no particular order and some clearly having been used more than others. Anthony blinks in surprise but has a partial idea about where this is inevitably going.

 “Since you’ve been so good lately,” the girl says aloud down to him as she stands adjacent, “I want you to pick a color for me to wear.”

Anthony blushed and glanced at the box, then back at Mira as she sits down in a chair next to him,

“A color?”

“Yeah, come on, it'll be fun! I want to know what you like so I can wear it for you!”

The young man gulps of his body's own accord and mutters out, more than a little surprised, and not an insubstantial amount captivated by his friend's show of gratitude. She's just admitted she wants to do something for him, to intentionally flaunt or gift him with a private form of happiness, and he struggles suddenly come to grips with the small honor he's received.

“You...Want to wear it for me?”

  “Yes, I want to wear it for you.” She quietly says out to him, no spark of humor or mocking tone in her voice this time.

Silence comes for a moment as Mira stares over at Anthony, his emotions ticking away like a clock and slowly coming to understand what she's saying to him.

“But don't get too excited,” she says beginning to sift through the contents of her small box, inspecting different colors and placing them in loose piles as she does so, “I mostly only have different whites and darks, I'm not super fond of bright yellow or warm colors.”

“No, that's- that's fine. I like you in white...In general.” Anthony says, at last gathering his fluttering thoughts, “You're really pretty in white, Mira.”
She pauses while holding a small white glass jar, of the all the others this one, in particular, seemed to have the most of its contents missing, indicating it was probably, also, her favorite color. She smiles over to him and closes her eyes, moistening her lips before replying, inhaling deeply before uttering to her not-so-secret crush.

“Thanks...You're sweet...”

He grins back to her, not able to stop his teeth from breaking across his lips, clearly excited for her affection and the simple moment they were sharing.

“And um...I...” Mira starts, slightly scolding herself inwardly for not offering a compliment in turn, and hurriedly trying to reciprocate.

“I think you look good in everything!”  

Anthony blurted out laughing, trying to act as though he hadn't noticed Mira's obvious difficulty with flirting with him.

“Well, I appreciate it. I always try to look my best for you, so I like to wear, “everything,” he says, placing emphasis on the last word, taking a playful poke at her minute flash of awkwardness.

Mira blushes bright red and closes her eyes, turning partially away.

“I just wanted to say...You don't look awful...I mean....ugh...Whatever, you know what I meant!”

“Yes,” he says plainly, smiling at her, “I know what you meant.”


#    #    #    #   

The whistle blew again, and everyone slowed their paces immediately, a short five-minute break being announced with the sharp sound of the stand-in referee's tool. Kyle trotted over to Anthony as he brought his fist up to bump with his best friend's, the evening game had gone well for them, and though they were winning, it was not by any means, a normal pick-up match.

Three of the opposing players in the game were actually members of the school's reserve basketball team, while one other, the best of the four by a significant amount, was a friendly, darker skinned man that had taken to Anthony and Kyle's team, to make things even. Anthony was dripping sweat as he walked over with Kyle to the sideline near where Mira sat in the adjacent bleachers, a few steps beyond the area for the participants. 

Mira picked up both boy's respective water bottles and handed them over, both guys taking in great mouthfuls of the cold ice water as she set down her typical notepad and pen.

Anthony swallowed hard and gasped, only now catching his breath and nodding sharply to Mira,

“Thanks, hope you're not too bored.”

The young man says to her playfully, smiling as he sets his bottle back down, Kyle wiping his face on his forearm before interjecting.

“Yeah, its gotta be boring watching him,” indicating to Anthony with a smirk, “He's always been the less interesting of the two of us.”

Mira glances for a brief second before smiling back at Anthony and shooting at the small Loki imposter,

“I'm not really into sure what the rules are, but I know the basics, and I like watching you. And for the record, you're much more interesting than Frodo over here.”

Anthony covers his mouth as he almost explodes into laughter, his female friend smirking and narrowing her eyes at Kyle.

“Hey! That's not funny man!”

He says, trying foolishly to defend himself, but he's taken a poke at Anthony, and to Mira, no one is allowed to do that; except her.

“Yeah? What do you have listed for your height on your Tindr profile? 5'6? 5'7?”

The other two members of the conversation laugh again as Kyle leans forward, right-hand index finger raised and swinging in frustration,

“I'm 5'8 and a half dammit! And I don't need Tindr anymore, I'm seeing Allison, remember?”

“Easy man, we're just playing,” Anthony says while still chuckling.

As the three converse, and the break starts to come to a close, through a hallway that leads past the bleachers and outside of the gymnasium, Allison comes around the corner as if on cue, book bag over her shoulder and waving as she approaches.

“Hey you guys! Hey babe!” She says making it over to Kyle as he moves away to meet her, Anthony and Mira quickly exchanging a neutral glance. Allison is dressed for class in a set of jeans and a striped button up shirt, whereas the boys of the group are in athletic clothes and Mira has on a pair of denim shorts and her favorite jacket.

Kyle shares a quick peck on the cheek with Allison as she comes to stand with everyone else, putting her bag down next to Mira.

“How much of the game is left?” she says to everyone.

“We're almost done, maybe another ten minutes or so, not long. Are you gonna stay?” Kyle answers for everyone quickly.

“Yeah! Definitely, I'll hang out with Mira while you guys have fun! Good luck, baby!” she says, calling out to Kyle as the whistle is blown again, indicating the break in the game over.

The two boys swap encouraging words and jog back to the opposite edge of the court, Allison glancing down to Mira, her demeanor still deceptively pleasant, though the half demon can tell she's lying through her eyes and smile.  The demonette's blood starts to tremble, not out of fear, but understanding she's in the presence of a genuine threat.

“So, how are you, Mira?”

Mira picks back up her notebook and looks down to it, trying in no way to engage in polite conversation, she doesn't want to be friends with this woman, and she doesn't want to spend any more time than she has to with her pretending to be.

“I'm fine, thanks.”

“Oh good! Well, how's your boyfriend? You guys doing well together?”

Mira sighs at the question, internally frustrated with her efforts to maintain some kind of calm appearance.

“We're seeing each other, but he's not my boyfriend,” she says, a small prick of regret at the admission coming up to her throat, though not because the fact is some kind of secret, but because she wants the opposite to be true.
“Oh, I see, so he hasn't asked you out?”

Mira looks up now from her notebook, irritated she's no longer alone and her attention has to be directed elsewhere, a group of her dark hair, sharpened to a long point, drooping down before her face as she turns.

“No, we talked about it, but we're staying friends for a while.”

Allison glances around suspiciously before leaning slightly over, her voice already naturally a bit deeper than Mira's as it comes out next with a conspiratorial tone.

“Is it because he's tiny for part of the day?” She whispers despite the arena's noise.

Mira's whole body goes still as she maintains a stare with the blonde woman, her green eyes not shifting as she subtly acknowledges she knows the truth of their situation, for the first time someone else admitting so. Anthony's roommate considers for a moment this is some kind of play for him, or about him in the least, and even though she's not surprised to hear her prospective boyfriend's observation had been true, she is taken aback by Allison's ease at which she offers that information.

“What's it to you, bitch?” Mira says, all order of nicety or calm evaporating at the possible threat she poses to Anthony. She's done pretending, and it seems Allison is too.

The green-eyed girl scoffs, and then smirks, looking away and watching the boys play basketball, taking care not to let on to anyone else the subject of their private conversation's subject matter.

“Just don't let anything happen to him, you freak.” Allison starts to say as she looks back at Mira, finishing the short exchange with an insult that makes the demon girl's blood boil in anger, her eyes narrowing in silent reply. The two are in a deadlocked stare, an unseen strike of lightning dancing between their harsh judgments of each other as they both openly display their animosity towards one another.

Mira would very much like to kill her, right now if she could, as the background noise of the large gymnasium echoes and cascades, she starts to consider to herself how she might go about doing that, though she can tell it would be a far different hunt than anything she's ever tried previously.

As the pair remain quiet, their stare is at last broken by a rising sound of abrupt commotion, the sounds of rising male voices and a seemingly brief struggle ensues as the pair both glance over tot he basketball court. The orange and black ball bounces away, disregarded as the two teams seem to be gathering together, pulling and shoving at one another, shouting insults and a few members trying to stop whatever is going on in the center of the group, mostly out of sight.

“Hey! HEY! That's enough, Kyle!” Mira picked out from the chorus of howls and jeers, the voice that had shouted clearly her roommate's.

Anthony was tugging on his friend by the waist as he tore the man away, his limbs still flailing and grasping for another player as a few of his own teammates were pulling him aside in turn. The pair were in the center of a quickly improvised circle the other men and a few bystanders had made out of familiar cultural practice, and as Anthony and the substitute player on their team pulled him off and away, a second, more angry cry from across the emptied ring of the court.

“Fuck you kid, your feet were moving! Punk!”

The two sides were relatively separated when Mira and Allison both got up and began making their way over to the confrontation, the pair of them sharing a worried look as they stepped onto the smooth wood of the court.

The scuffle had been broken up it seemed for now, as Anthony and his fellow African American teammate let go of Kyle, his teeth gritted and fists balled up, still hungry for more though and feeling insulted.  The other set of men released their own member and the young man, around the same age as Kyle and Anthony, though taller than the brown-haired man's best friend, pointed an accusatory index finger at the pair and shouted to them specifically.

“You two assholes are banned, I don't wanna see you back at my court!”

Obviously confused and taken aback at the crazy thought of that sentence being enforced, or even remotely valid, Anthony shot back in an instant, his own blood running up so soon after playing and the brief fracas.

“The court doesn't belong to you man, get your head outta your ass!”

That comment evidently didn't help the situation as the opposing player, his short black hair and equally dark eyes scowled at the reply from the man a few inches taller than him. The apparent leader of the group, the one that Kyle had gotten involved with, surged forwards before his friends were able to restrain him this time, and Anthony saw now that he was now the target of his renewed assault, not his buddy.

There were only a few meters between the packs of boys as Anthony's attacker closed the distance in an quickly, racking back his right fist and preparing to fire into his face as he lunged to get into range. Anthony could see it coming, and in a heartbeat, on instinct, brought his left arm up to cover his face and slanted his torso fractionally to the right. The length of time which the two were engaged was short, but the prospect for injury to either party was severe, especially now that they were not held back by any of the onlookers.

The other man's fist rebounded off of Anthony's blocking forearm and bicep with a sharp thud of pain. In response, he struck out immediately after on pure reflex,  throwing forward his right elbow, his reach was greater than his would-be assailant, but he was too close to try and cock back his whole arm's length to counter in time.

Mira, as well as everyone else in the gathering, gasped out as the hard bone of Anthony's elbow connected with the other man's face, sending him to the floor in a single counter strike, his opponent collapsing onto his backside and leaning on his arm, dazed and trying after a few seconds to prop himself up. A chorus of, “ohhh's,” came up in response to the strike, nothing that seemed to be egging the two on for more, instead the noise taking from most, a tone of approval.

“Woah man, stop, take it easy bro! He's always a dick, man!”

The African American man stepped towards Anthony and placed himself in front of his body, lightly placing his palms down onto his chest and pushing him back, though Anthony himself could worryingly feel his adrenaline urging him to shove him aside and continue the fight further.

Mira appeared next and pushed the darker skinned man away, eyes calm and voice measured as she next placed a single hand over his heart,

“Hey, that's enough.”

Anthony felt his blood boil at trying to be contained, despite the person trying to help being the most important person in his life,

“Did you see wha-,” he said pointing a finger over at the man over Mira's shoulder, now getting helped to his feet, a thin trail of blood running down his left nostril and dripping onto his shirt.

“I don't care what he did,” the demonette said flatly, next raising her voice fractionally and her speech taking on a more scolding pitch, “I said...That's enough.” She said with commanding finality, but for good measure, gathering the digits of her hand except for her index finger, which kept its position above his pulsating life muscle.

Anthony settled himself, looking down at Mira, who mirrored staring up at him. He swallowed hard and wiped his face with the back of his hand, getting the sweat off his upper lip and nodding down to Mira as she let his eyes sink to the ground, suddenly a little ashamed of himself.  He looked back up in time to see her glance back at his former basketball opponent, the pair of them staring over as he called out in a mocking tone,

“Yeah that's right bro, listen to your slut!”

The demonette's partner lost it in that moment, and the animalistic snarl that roared from his lips at the insult made all in earshot's eyes widen in alarm. Mira, thinking quickly, grabbed onto Anthony's left arm as Kyle seized his right, the pair having difficulty holding him back as he still took a step or two forward, towards the jerk who was now clearly afraid and taking a step back with his friends. The African American guy wrapped his arms around the frenzied young man's torso and pulled him back, adding his strength to his restraint and beginning to finally drag him away and over to the edge of the court as he bayed for blood at the injustice to his prospective lover.


“Come on man, come on, its not worth it, bruh!” the new addition to Anthony's team was heard trying to reason with him, and as the trio managed to get him away over to the hallway for the gym exit, Mira could feel herself growing intoxicated with affection, her senses tingling at such a display of defending her honor, and his ability to inflict pain upon others.

#    #    #    #


Anthony had his things in a bag over his shoulder, the sun setting as the last half hour of time before 7 PM ticked away, Mira at his side as they made it to the sidewalk leading to the parking lot. She was smiling, though by comparison her roommate was quiet and reserved. She needed to let him know everything was alright, and to do so she decided to speak, even if it may be too soon after the whole incident with the other basketball players just a few minutes before.

“You got a little speed in you... I have to say, you always seemed quick, but you really surprised me.”

Anthony sighed as he glanced down then back to his path,

“Yeah, I used to fight with my older cousins all the time, and I sort of got into trouble a lot in high school with people.”

Their steps are equal in pace as Mira continues, her flip-flops making audible, appropriate noises as she trotted along, her white nails proudly on display for all to see.

“Thanks, Anthony, for sticking up for me earlier.” She says quietly, offering a small, different type of smile this time, one that says she's thankful to have someone like him around by her side.

He licks his lips nervously, and lowly says down to her when he's let out a sigh of preparation,

“You should never be treated like that. He wasn't going to insult you and get away with it if I could do something about it,” He pauses a moment, “You should have let me.”

“No, we don't have time for that kind of thing,” she reminds him saying, something Anthony hadn't considered, completely lost in the moment of the situation, “but if we had, I would have let you. It was cute to see you angry and all ready to take it out on someone...And...I like the way you treat me...” She comments giggling, reflecting on the image of her favorite person red hot with emotion at her expense.

Anthony clears his throat and replies, a little bashful at being told something so forthcoming by Mira, and as the two share an endearing look, they make their way near to Anthony's car as he reaches for his bag to get his keys out. A voice calls out from behind them though, the nearly empty lot revealing easily a group of men as they approach, walking between the cars, the dark-haired and eyed college student Anthony had gotten mixed up with at their head.

“Hey asshole, you leaving already?”
The young man who was a part of Anthony's team is among them, and the group stalks closer to the pair as they turn around at the pronouncement. Mira and her friend reverse around as he sighs heavily, understanding what they've apparently followed them for, and hurriedly exchanging a glance with her.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot, what you say we get to know each other better, man?” The man says tapping his nose painfully and upholding an obvious facade of courteous sincerity.

Anthony leans over without making it obvious he's going to speak to Mira, the girl herself not at all bothered by the approaching pack. This group of former sports opponents openly suggesting they've come to enact violence on him, and possibly, to his dread, Mira.

“Mira, listen to me,” he begins, deadly serious all of a sudden as he lowers his voice, “I want you to take my keys and get away from here.”

She glares but keeps her eyes on the advancing squad, muttering, in a not so subtle voice of anger,

“Don't ever tell me to run, you're lucky were out here and not at home. Besides, there's only four of them.”

“This isn't going to go well, Mira, seriously, get yourself out of here.”

She looks up to him now, not affected by the imminent threat of a beating in the slightest.

“It's 6:55." She says up to him, coming to, in her mind, what is the sole logical conclusion.  "There's only one way out of this, I know you won't like it, but I'm sorry.” The demonette says with grim resignation, taking steps forward towards the loosely grouped men, away from the protection of Anthony, whose eyes go wide in surprise and his heart begins to sink. He suddenly understands, with horrifying revelation, he realizes what Mira is about to do, but he's frozen in place, firmly unable to act as the sheer terror of her intent sinks its fangs into his mind.

“Hey there boys, I'm Mira, Anthony's roommate!”

She continues to take steps closer as they stop, she has already, while her friend foolishly contemplated her retreat, scanned the immediate area to check if there would be any witnesses to what she was planning to do. And to her relief, and simultaneous regret, there was only Anthony.

“What?” The leader asks in confusion, “What do you want, bitch? Get out of the way or-!”

She cuts him off, not slowing her pace, “Oh trust me,” she mutters as she gets into range with her last step, there's not a lot of distance in between them, but with a little luck, she'd get them all at once.

“I'm much worse than a bitch, human.”

She ripped her black ink pen from her pocket and drew an ancient rune on her palm, the very same she had drawn out of sight on the cold kitchen floor for Anthony all those weeks ago, the surface of which as it completed began to brighten with red colored air and sizzled with unnatural temperature of neither heat nor cold.

The men saw the light and heard her final statement of inhumanity, but were transfixed by the totally unreal nature of her words and actions. Mira began to smile as she realized, even now, if they tried to flee, it would be too late.

“Mira! No-” was all that Anthony could muster as he doubled over in agony, falling to his knees, then rolling onto his side, teeth clenched and bones on fire, blooding rolling onto his tongue as he felt the same change the group was about to undergo, happen to him.

The inhuman girl slammed her palm flat on the asphalt of the parking lot, a red ring forming in an instant, circling and exploding the area with abnormal light and strange arcs of perverse crimson electricity.  A couple of them cried out, it was impossible to tell which, but the instant Mira's palm had impacted the floor, it was already done, and their cries of agony fell on largely deaf ears, save of course for her own.
 
Anthony tried to shut out the pain but simply could not,  gritting his teeth and groaning in frustration and anguish at what he knew Mira had done, combined with his recent change.

The group was still in a loose pack, all of them brought to the black tar floor, standing no more than an inch in height and obviously all disoriented.

Mira loomed overhead, looking down at them without emotion, reaching down into her bag and fiddling around for a very important item she'd been carrying as a habit since moving away to college. She saw them before her sandals, her toes making them look like tiny insects as she stood menacingly high above, a couple of them now looking back up at her and beginning to panic with increasing fear.

At the next moment, she plucked a modified vial she had taken from a chemistry class from her bag, the tube of glass topped with a cork that had a small pin hole poked into it for air, empty, and ready to receive its next batch of poor prisoners.

She knelt down and her immense body, uncaring gaze, and fingers filled the vision of all the human ants as they tried in pointless vanity to scatter before her encroaching form. She plucked them,  one at a time and placed them, kicking and screaming into her small receptacle, placing the top back on and lifting the vial up to her eyes after finishing, poking the exterior as a child might poke a fish tank in dull curiosity.

They panicked even more, but all seemed to have survived their swift, unforeseen, reduction in stature as her massive finger tapped the glass with little regard for their safety.

She held the tube in her enormous grip, the huge image of her fist wrapping around and cutting off most light into the container, and quickly turned to find Anthony, her heart skipping a beat as she realized he had reduced in size as well, right on schedule.

“Anthony?!” she said with a tiny jolt of apprehension, “Where are you?! Say something!”

She spied his bag on the ground and hastily began scanning the ground, not moving another inch, no matter where she expected him to be.  Her eyes flashed around as she kept a firm hold of her newest victims, her chest undulating as she felt a creep of worry slither around into her stomach.

At last after a few moments, but what seemed like agonizing minutes, she found him next to his simple black, draw-string bag, trying to sit up from a fallen position, groaning in pain and panting.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed out heavily, stepping over to him, her footfalls making the earth tremble at her casual stroll, next carefully kneeling down to him, “there you are. Are you alright?” she said, her frighteningly large presence filling his vision.

He coughed, and felt himself want to  vomit, not yet catching his breath as he attempted to reply,

“You- Mira, You-”

“I know,” she said remorsefully sympathetic, “but it was the only way. Come here.”

The gorgeous non-human popped the cork of the vial with her free hand and with great care, took Anthony by his shirt and tipped the vial, letting him slide down to where the rest of the miniaturized men were captive.

“I'm sorry Anthony, it's the only place I know you'll be safe.” She said with a sincere apology, her face, however, contorting an instant later to that of livid anger and palpable threat.

“If any of you lay as much as a finger on him!” she paused letting her rage-filled tone sink in, clearly having the desired effect as the all of the men except for her friend cowered in fear, “I'll feed you to an ant hill, you little pests.”

With that, she shoved the cork back into the vile top and placed the container back into her purse's side pocket, quickly scooping up Anthony's bag, and more importantly, his keys, so that she could drive them all home, where for some of them, the night would end with their deaths.

The door shut behind Mira, cool air pushed out and away as she took steps into her warmer, cozy apartment, the lights flicking to life as she flipped the nearby switch. The night had been a disaster, to say the least, and she was feeling a strange combination of guilt, though not for her prey, and morbid obligation. She frowned to herself as she sighed, her eyes coming shut as she rubbed them with her one free hand, thinking about why her emotions had so suddenly changed, why she was feeling the way that she was. Where before she would be excited at the evening’s catch, eager to feel the small deaths of hope at the mercy of whatever unspeakable method she decided to employ, now, she felt nothing of the sort, instead plagued by bitter and angry thoughts at being forced to this path that she had been doing so well at steering clear of; choosing instead a path towards Anthony.

These idiots had compelled her to act, to protect the only thing that mattered to her, to protect herself, and now, she would do just that, the only way she knew how.

 She locked the door.

Stepping fully into the now lit living room, Mira dropped her bag by the edge of the back of the couch, the simple hand purse sagging to the carpet as she opened her jacket above, casting it clear and away to the corner of the room in frustration. She placed her hands on the top of the seat cushion, and leaned over, closing her eyes, taking a deep breath and sighing, wondering anxiously what Anthony was thinking of her at this exact moment, and what he would think of her later. Of the insignificant jerks who currently kept him company and their meager lives, she cared nothing for, but she was…afraid…of what her small love-interest would feel about her after tonight.

“It’s the only way,” she reminded herself. There had been no alternative, and if the small man who awaited her in the vial really, truly cared about her like she hoped, he would understand. She would try to get it over quickly, regardless of her feelings.

Mira let go of the couch and stood up rubbing her face, then placing her hands on her pleasantly shaped hips, curved elegantly in the tight grip of her denim shorts. She thought of something on the way home, driving carefully with Anthony’s Charger, each stop light and sign giving her a little too much time to think to herself when she arrived at one. She needed to change, the feeling of her sides reminded her of something then, something that she’d never once considered doing before, for anyone, and as she turned away, kicking off her simple brown sandals next to her purse and heading for her room, she felt a desperate, specific need to alter her appearance.


#    #    #    #


The small glass bottle rolled as the enormous material of the demi-goddess’ handbag buckled with her steps away, Anthony as well as the others tumbling together and impacting the relative firmness of the vial’s top cork, the hard sponge-like material moving slightly forward as the container slipped completely out of the pocket, and onto the carpet.

The all let out groans and sounds of sudden pain as they piled onto one another, the width of the tube only enough for two, maybe three of them, to be shoulder to shoulder at their size. They were all breathing heavily and struggling to get off one another as the leader of the friend group said in a rushed voice, eyes still clear with fright and body trembling,

“There! There she goes! We have to get out of here! Now’s our chance!”

All of them looked up and over to him as they hunched over, mostly separating their intermingled bodies from the interwoven mess the tumbling, improvised prison had caused. The group watched the towering woman, her footfalls heavy and foreboding as she rounded the corner, going wherever she willed to another part of the apartment.

Anthony panted as he too watched her walk away, a host of different thoughts assaulting his mind as she left their sight, the man he had punched earlier in the evening spoke once more, almost trying to reason with him, as if he had the slightest bit of control over something as awesome in power as Mira.

“You- you know her right? She’s your girl, right bro? You can talk to her, man! Get her to change us back!”

Anthony tried to catch his breath as now everyone else in the tube looked to him, all of their eyes pleading with him to get them away from this situation, to end this seemingly inescapable nightmare they’d found themselves in without reason or explanation.

He looked around at each of them, cramped as they were in the rounded, capsule-like, clear room. Anthony knew what Mira was going to do to them, and though merely a half hour ago they had appeared to want to beat the life out of him, all feelings of the previous animosity had disappeared when he’d understood in his heart what awaited them at her cruel and enormous hands.

“No,” he said after hesitating a moment, “no we need to get out of here, it’s not safe here, for any of us,” he concluded with dark certainty, though entirely afraid to admit it to himself. Anthony wanted to believe Mira wouldn’t hurt him, he even wanted to think that he could in fact reason with her, in order to spare his fellow tinies an inevitable, grizzly death, but he could not place their lives in the trust of the demonette’s unpredictable nature, that in and of itself was a hopeless prospect that could only end one way.

After a quiet, but brief pause, the dark-eyed leader said hurriedly, as the group immediately went into action,

“Help me with the cork! Come on!”

Anthony watched for a guilty instant as the rest of the men began to push, shove, and kick frantically at the tube topper, but as his realization set in, he too pushed his way aside and started to kick at the softer material with all he could muster, the simple cork cap seemingly impossible at first to move to them, and yet so easily placed there by Mira before. He wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do to help the formerly hostile group, they had, after all, threatened his partner, and himself, as well as insulting them both and harming his best friend, but he knew in his bones it was right to attempt to save them. What convinced him to quickly try and help was the fact that they were people, with families, lives, and dreams, but to Mira, he felt his soul shudder at the thought they would only be insects to her.

With a soft pop, the cork came free at last, and a couple of the men tumbling out with the last of their extra exerted effort, all of them with haste disembarking the confines of the glass tube though as the brief hope of freedom was realized.

The men helped each other get out and stood in an anxious, loose circle, Anthony being the last to exit and being helped up by the African American man who had been on his team earlier in the evening during basketball.

“Come on, the door isn’t far, let's get the fuck out of here!” came the panicked voice of the lead man.

“No,” Anthony said, coming to his feet, and trying to add his personal experience to the non-existent discussion, “She’s fast, much faster than you think. We won’t make it.” He breaths out swallowing hard, trying to reason with the group, “Our best bet is to hide and wait for her to fall asleep. If we’re lucky, we ca-“

Anthony’s eyes spun as a strike from the student he’d quarreled with previously crashed into him across the jaw, sending him over, a bright flash of white and a ringing in his ears his only perceptive feelings as the floor rushed up to meet him, Mira’s familiar apartment layout spinning with the next throb of his head.

The downed man tasted the unmistakable copper tang of blood in his mouth, pain flooding his face as his lip swelled in a moment due to being punched, the rest of the group looking down at him as the foolish idiot started to jog from them, not looking back as all but Anthony’s former teammate hurried after him the next second, their minds made up. The three men paused and gazed hesitantly at the imposing structure that was one of Mira’s discarded sandals, to them it was the size of a huge yacht, the edge where her sole would meet its comfortable embrace about as high as six feet to their scale, about an inch in her own, a terrifying reminder of just how small they were not just to the rest of the world, but to her own, incomprehensible stature by comparison. They were only the size of insignificant ants to her, and her undecorated brown footwear gave them a grim reminder they were nothing when before something like even her feet.

They continued on soon after, Anthony catching a glance from the dark-skinned man as he watched them head away, trying to decide the best course of action in his terrified mind.

Anthony shook his head and started to rise, “Don’t…” He said holding his head in agony, turning it back and forth, “Don’t, man.”

The fellow basketball player hesitated only once more as he finally, at last, turned and finished getting Anthony up to his feet, looking to him with fear as he sputtered out, “S-so, what do we do?!”

Anthony’s head pounded with a painful ache, but he focused his thoughts as he held his palm against his temple.

“Under the couch, come on, she’s going to see them when she gets back, they won’t get far.”

“What do you mean, they won’t get far?! What’s she gonna do?!”

Anthony turned and said apprehensively just before starting to sprint away, truthful as he could be, but scared himself at the thought,

“I don’t know…”


#    #    #    #


Mira closes her door to her private domain, lifting her right hand and fluffing her gorgeous brown hair groggily, as if she’s somehow just woken up from a long nap. She scratches her nose and says quietly to herself, confirming her plans aloud for no obvious reason,

“Well, at least I finally have an excuse to wear these pants…Forgot I had them.” She mutters as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

She walks down the hallway, donning long, baggy blue pajama pants she’s genuinely not fond of and a large, loose-fitting grey t-shirt on her body, the ends of her bottom garment a tad too long and flopping under her heels at times when she steps. 

Rounding the corner, still scratching her head a bit, and putting her foot down into the living room, she spies the empty vial without effort, the lid popped and its contents emptied. A second later, however, without even being surprised, her eyes lock onto the tiny forms of three little men, rushing for the locked front door in impossible vanity, the tiny figures all too easy for her heightened senses to spot even at this distance.

“So you guys got out, huh?” Her voice booms with sheer indifference, “That’s a pretty stupid move, the door’s locked, and you could never manage to squeeze under there. Trust me, a lot have tried.”

The men begin to scream as they propel themselves with renewed vigor, the leader, the one who had called her a slut and had attempted to harm Anthony, positioned in between the quickest, and the slowest member of the pack, all of them running in a loose line for the apartment exit at an agonizingly slow pace.

She watches them, for a short moment, observing quietly the most pitiful speed they can muster with all their meaningless strength.

Mira yawns and covers her mouth as she stretches, completely immune to the prospect of violence she’s about to inflict, taking her first step and covering the same distance in an instant that they could in a full minute.


#    #    #    #


Jeff is running, absolutely as fast as he can, only about twenty feet behind Josh as the trio make their mad dash for freedom, the night a complete and utter vision of terror he could never imagine before. He hears the echoing taunts of the woman high and far above, her words making his stomach knot and heart sink as they invade his ears.

“She’s, she’s done this before?!” He finds himself wondering with shrieking trepidation, though that being the least of his immediate concerns.

He hears next something that manages to get him to look over his shoulder, the titanic booms of her feet as her soft toes and soles impact the carpet floor. She takes a total of four steps, each of them shaking the unfamiliar ground as he feels his bones start to rattle and vibrate under his skin with her casual, careless trod.

She’s on him in moments, covering the vast distance from the hallway entrance to their sprinting forms with no effort at all, her towering, terrifying presence now directly behind him as he glances over one last time, now, however, seeing only the top of her left foot and only the lowest part of her blue pants, the enormous set of decorated white toes and sole bending and coming off the ground with incomprehensible speed, rising high, high into the air above him. He looks up as small pieces of dirt and rubble fall down from it around him. Dust, merely dust from the dirty floor that had been stuck to the underside of her monolithic foot, now like gravel to him, something very soon he will share a lot in common with.

Jeff screams the last thing he’ll ever say, a pitiful and completely pointless plea to the bottom of her foot, the skin of the lowest part of her body filling the sky, casting a shadow around every direction he could ever hope to flee in as it comes down without pause, growing larger and larger and larger until it blocks out the light and crushes him to the floor in a mere half second, his body bursting in the next instant, the pain so quickly over that it takes an equal amount of time for her foot too come off the ground again and take another step towards the remaining two insects, the former human ant's arms and legs sprawled unnaturally in odd directions, clearly in ways not meant for his tiny body to be in, stuck to the bottom of Mira’s foot.


#    #    #    #


A spot of blood is left behind on the floor, as well as a warm tingle of it on the skin of Mira’s sole, but she doesn’t even slow down, or give the poor human she’s just killed a single thought, focused only on her main target with his death now in range of her vengeance as she looms ever nearer.

The girl lowers her gigantic body now, leaning down onto her hands and knees, behind the pair of scurrying little human gnats as she feels her breasts rub up against the basic shirt she’s wearing, the oversized shirt not revealing any of her enjoyable features on purpose. These disgusting bugs, she thinks inwardly, are undeserving of gazing upon her true amazing feminine appearance, and have earned only the right to die like the lowest form of annoyance possible, appropriately so, beneath the wrath of her body.

She wants the jerk who’s been such an affront to the couple, alone, and to do so, she quickly dispatches the last visible survivor so that she can more personally execute their self-appointed head.

Mira raises her right hand and balls it into a fist, like a boulder made of flesh and pretty, glowing skin, the weight of which is capable of shattering lives, destroying soda-can sized buildings, and just about anything else it wants.

She pounds the floor, not even hard from her own perspective, and as her hand impacts the carpet another of the men is dead, crushed in an instant beneath the deadly accuracy of her strike, her pinky and the side of her hand covered in whatever is left of him. That one nearly didn’t have enough time to even scream, she was almost too fast for even that, almost anyways, and the next thing she felt was the distinct crunch of his bones and his warm crimson release coat her epidermis in an ugly, dismal pattern.

Mira keeps her hand still as the last man, her main prey and focus of her fury, stops dead in his tracks and stumbles backwards, beginning to sob uncontrollably in a frenzied panic, falling back and onto his posterior and balling like a disturbed infant. She’s looking down at him as his eyes track with terror over to her gaze, abject disbelief and shock written on his face, and when the two meet eyes, she locks him in her typical sinister glare, her features and look entirely devoid of regard for his very existence.  Her brown eyes bury into his soul, and the complete lack of emotion on her features destroys utterly his previous perception of fear.

She’s killed them both as if they were nothing, and she’s about to do the same to him.

With purposefully intimidating slowness, Mira grinds her fist back and forth into the carpet, intentionally desiccating whatever is left of the second man she’s killed tonight in as many moments. After she knows the lone tiny man is watching her macabre display, she slowly lifts her hand and lets him see what’s become of his former friend, now turned to a mess of red and indiscernible mutilation.

“You all die the same, you know.” Mira says without any specific tone, “Scared and running.”

She moves her left hand and holds herself up now with her right, resting her incalculable weight, as if to even now, still add insult to injury, on the splattered debris of the lead runner who's just died, as she plucks the frozen little human from where he’s collapsed, his fear exploding from his lips as her fingers grasp him with the required pressure to make him feel pain, and not with the delicate touch she affords her lovable Anthony. 

Mira stands now, her complete height dominating his senses as he’s hoisted many hundreds of feet into the air, like a quick rising elevator to hell, without the prospect of salvation and instead only the promise of annihilation.

She examines him for a second, eyes squinting and rolling her wrist back and forth trying to get a decent look at him, a frown forming on her beautiful visage as her lids close back together, disappointment clear in her features, as is also writ in her voice.

“I don’t see why the others looked to you; you’re nothing, not at this height, and not before.”

Mira’s eyes come open again and her deep brown orbs keep him sharply in focus as she speaks to him, his body trembling with incurable fright.

“You make me sick, really.” She pauses, “I don’t know why I’m even wasting my time with you.”

As the impossibly massive woman speaks to her prey, her eyes glance down and sharply to a blur beneath her body, something familiar to her, as her lightning edged eyesight finds it in an instant. A tiny man, it would appear, and definitely not Anthony, stumbles clumsily out from beneath the couch next to her left foot, the white nails of her toes shifting for a moment as her conscious responds momentarily to the new target, though her intent not in any realm or fashion, hesitating. Casually, with a terrifying lack of perceived human reaction, she quickly lifts her foot above the newcomer, and as his tiny scream shrieks out, she slams her sole into the floor onto him, dead center upon his minuscule body, the bones of his destroyed existence breaking and shattering in the next second, blood coating a half dollar sized splatter on her floor and foot as he pops unceremoniously.

Mira in the same motion scrapes her foot backwards, sliding it away and making the small remains streak on the carpet and on her skin, the action pushing home the fact that the tiny African American insect’s death is just a mere inconvenience, a new little mess on the carpet, and not an extinguished human life. The next second with fluidity she places her foot back to where she’s killed her newest kidnapped victim, having scraped his remains mostly off her sole, as if their mangled presence on her skin offended her, she looks back to the meager form still painfully held between her fingers and continues where she left off, as if the event hadn’t taken place at all. Her toes settle back into the soft embrace of the carpet, her gorgeous, weaponized body finding balance and totally relaxed once more.

“Wanna try messing with Anthony or me now? You disgusting little worm?”

The pathetic former human starts to sob, in between dry heaves and odd combinations of tears and coughs, he pleads for his life, like dozens of others Mira has encountered in her macabre adventures in college, though this time, it not only falls on deaf ears, but she finds no pleasure or enjoyment in the sounds of his begging. It feels like, like it’s been ages since she reveled in this sort of thing. Like she’s now a totally different person, and this dark and sinister side of her is simply an unspoken illness of hers she’s gotten used to bearing. Anthony, she reflects to herself as she watches the tiny man try hopelessly to squirm, his limbs all held firm beneath Mira’s powerful left thumb, pressing him against her index finger, he’s responsible for all of this. The small boy crush of hers, still alive and unharmed, lost somewhere in the apartment she hoped, has begun to affect her in ways she never thought possible, in ways she knows is genuinely for the better, and now for the first time ever, arriving at a deep understanding of just how much he’s helped her.

This day, she curses to herself, why did these idiots have to push her and Anthony like this today, why did they have to set her back so much? She had been doing so well, and she was sure that her roommate, wherever he was, was not just judging her, but was probably so far beyond disgusted, she hated him once again. It was all for him though, they would have hurt him, they may have even tried to take his life. And Mira, she promised noiselessly within, a cold anger rising in her heart, would never allow anyone to do something like that to Anthony. She would die before she let that happen. She would kill to ensure that never came to pass.

There was, however, something else to everything that had happened… Maybe this was all some form of denial. Maybe Mira had wanted to orchestrate some kind of conflict, some kind of outcome that warranted the prospect of further human deaths. Maybe something else had taken control and she hadn’t even been aware.

“Maybe,” she thought to herself, a creeping crawling thought slowly sneaking its way up her spine, “maybe I am still a monster...”

Several silent moments passed as Mira thought to herself, no noise save for the small prayers from the captive humanoid ant was audible as her mind tried to understand her life and the new course it had taken, at the veritable crossroads of her future, and that of her potential lover.

Mira blinked her eyes. Bringing herself back to reality.

The huge demon girl caught a whiff of something that shook her out of her contemplative posture.

“Your scent is revolting,” she started again, the half-considered idea she’d come up with for a painful end to this jerk cast aside after catching a bit of his smell, “So eating you is out of the question. And your little friends trying to scurry away by my toes didn't feel good to me at all to squish... Honestly, I don't even care enough to try and enjoy myself at this point... I just want you dead. “

A louder, more frantic sound of pleas and tearful sobs came again as Mira revealed her obvious intentions, vocalizing them for the first time, making the truth of the matter real, and shattering completely the tiny prisoner’s hope for mercy in the same casual sentence.

“Your begging is just annoying to me, in fact, one word pretty much sums up your entire existence at this point. You're just...”

Before finishing her insult to the victim who had previously posed so much more of a threat to the demonette and her own loving pet, the girl rolled her thumb fully down, starting down at the man’s legs and gradually applying more pressure as her finger dismissively went forward, a horrid gurgling, screaming sound and the splintering of calcium accompanying her grotesque form of execution. The thumb made it to passed the former man’s sternum as he spasmed and burst without warning, his head and the upper half of his frail torso exploding in a small blast of blood, ruptured muscle, and other disgusting body parts that were never meant to be opened to the air. Mira had kept a blank stare the entire time as she watched her white painted digit squeeze the insect from foot to head, popping his tiny skull and largest center mass like a rotten grape with the building pressure of liquids and vitae.

“…A nuisance…”

Crimson now coated a decent portion of her left hand, the massive girl, high above, looking down at the splattered remnants and cocking her head slightly to one side as her fingers came together, rubbing the bloodied tips and toying with the still warm liquid as she curiously examined its consistency and watched with dark fascination how it covered her skin. An act of momentary boredom with the former body of something that was an hour before, human.

“Hmm. Nothing.” She thought to herself as all was silent, again.


#    #    #    #


Anthony had heard it all. Sounds he was sure he’d never be able to forget.

Tears ran down his face as he ceased all attempts at struggling, his body going limp in the grip of the warm, black thing that reminded him of some kind of barbarian god. The man held him up as he moved to rise, beginning slowly to stand as the moments crept by, dragging Anthony to his feet as he did so, the entire scene as it had played out between all parties, unmoving to his mind or what passed for his own subconscious.

“Come on Anthony, get up. It’s alright.”

The absurdity of that thought was suddenly too much as the inch tall man felt his feet pushed beneath his legs, propped up by the tattooed entity as he fell over to his hands and knees, trying to stem the flow of salted release from his eyes as they shut in frustration and remorse.

“She…” He breathed out, with clearly difficult effort and anguish lacing his words, tilting his head back and forth in denial, “She killed them…”

“There was no other way.” The demon said plainly.

“You are alive, and that is all that matters. To me… and to her.”

Anthony turned his head, streams of sorrow coating his cheeks as he beheld the man who returned a sympathetic half-smile down at him.

The young college student held his stare for a few moments, rebellion against the facts evaporating soon after as the truest reply came back to him, something that could not be refuted, the logic in what had transpired absolute, though, no matter what reality was, still completely unfair to Anthony  as he struggled to control himself. He knew inside too, that the group who had confronted the pair likely had violent intentions, they probably were going to hurt him, but he didn’t care about himself, he only cared about Mira, and she had acted quickly without wasting any time to protect them both. The young African American though, Anthony reflected, he died, as he felt, completely needlessly and by mistake, something that was sitting unbearably heavy on his mind. He could only see his death every time he closed his eyes.

Anthony stood up straight, wiping his mouth and nose with the back of his hands, his eyes calming and his crying beginning to come to an end. He had to confront Mira, right this second, and as he glanced back at the demi-god, he started to walk towards the edge of the couch, towards the light as the veritable goddess above called out for him.

“Anthony?” she said in a low, hurried blurt, nervous anxiety evident in her voice, “Are you here somewhere? It's ok to come out, now! Please, come out!”

Mira looked around the room, specifically to the floor and near the furniture edges. She took one step back and scanned around behind herself, the little thing was smart, and pretty quick given tinies, so she was careful in her movements and thorough in her scouring as she searched from her rooted position.

Anthony felt the light of the room cast down on his face, the brightness of the artificial illumination hurting his eyes as he narrowed them and called out to his roommate, her left foot displaying a couple of red speckles of blood on the side closest to the couch.

“Y-yeah…I’m here…” He said apprehensively.

Mira swung her enormous frame around immediately, finding him in an instant, and when her gaze snatched onto his own, Anthony couldn’t help but flinch.

“Oh…” She exhaled sharply, relieved, “Thank goodness, you’re alright.”

She moved without thinking, kneeling over slightly onto one knee to scoop him from the ground as she had a hundred times before, but this time, something else happened as her knee crashed to the ground near him.

Anthony recoiled from her right and left hands as they moved to seize him, taking an involuntary step back as the woman paused, hesitating as her pet displayed a different kind of open fear. Mira blinked and felt a tiny prick of pain touch her heart at his reaction to her, though she had tried to brace herself for what she had expected, she herself looking next to her opening hands and how they still had blood upon her healthy skin.

She blinked again and looked at Anthony, his eyes worried and fearful of the red wash that stained her palms and fingers as if the act of being near it harmed him physically. The two met eyes again as Mira’s own gaze begins to water at the thought of all the metaphorical steps back she had taken, possibly beyond the chance of redemption because of her justified actions.
Quickly, thinking on impulse, she brought and rubbed her hands to her sides onto her pants as she knelt with one leg to the side of where her friend stood, trying to stifle his emotions as well and seemingly finding no such luck either. Slowly though, as Mira saw her garment begin to take in the color, she came to a gradual stop, the act she found was now, as she came to the shared regretful conclusion, futile.

Neither of the two said a word for the next couple of tense moments. Everything terrifying Anthony had ever known, but tried to ignore about Mira, was now completely on display and made a reality as her body sat stained with gore and fresh signs of a massacre.

Mira, just as ever though, took the lead once more.

“You’re… You’re not hurt, right?” she said, keeping her head and her voice low, curling her lip nervously.

Anthony swallowed hard and cleared his throat, wiping his eye with one hand and saying quietly back up to the girl.

“…No… I’m…I’m ok.”

Mira exhaled the dread she had been trying to hold in, both her palms coming to the floor next to her as she held her weight up, finally pushed to face the conversation she knew would eventually come after tonight.

“Anthony…” She started again, holding in her fears and emotions, trying to focus, “They were going to hurt you, probably even kill you. It was too close to seven…You…”

The couple let that sentence hang in the air, the truth clear to both of them, and in no way a matter of disagreement between the two.

“If I hadn’t….” she pauses again, trying not to cry, “If I hadn’t done something, they would have taken you away from me… You know I can’t…I cant… You have to understand…”

The man feels his nerves capitulate as his hand comes up to cover his mouth, rubbing his face, trying to gather his thoughts with the action of his nervous palm. He’s never had a more difficult conversation with anyone, ever before, and it brings him pain to know how Mira feels in this situation. She’s obviously remorseful, she was surely trying to keep him safe, and it's clear she was successful in doing both of those things, despite her methods and despite her morals. Anthony knew she was in the right. It was either him or them, just like the black demi-god with no name had told him. His roommate had acted, when he had wanted to try something foolish that would have seen the end of both of them, and he realized now, no matter the cost, all that was important was they were alive and that she was safe. She really, honestly, had saved them both when he, in fact, was about to recklessly do the opposite. He tried immediately to formulate how to say that, but his emotions and thoughts were a wreck, and time it seemed, had suddenly run out.

Mira scoffed and chuckled darkly to herself the next instant, resigning her accumulated relationship progress and her lover’s judgment of her actions to apparent failure, whispering to Anthony as much as to herself as she stood back up to her full height without pausing this time.

“Maybe you don’t,” she said as she turned to walk away, throwing him a regretful glance before she did so.

Anthony blinked at her swift motion, and felt his mouth drop and his blood return to his body as he stammered after her, the first stride of the girl taking her far away, towards the hallway following a boom of her footfall as he gave chase with his arm extended out to her, as if able to reach out and take her hand in return.

“M-Mira! Wait!” he shouted, trying in vain to reach her tumultuous heart as it fled away.

“If you don’t stick to the edges of the walls,” she muttered out coldly without turning around, “it’s not my fault what happens to you. I’m going to bed.” She said, knowing for sure he would hear her abrupt change in feelings towards him, treating his safety with suddenly far less concern.

“Mira!” Anthony yelled one last time as she rounded the corner without looking back, walking down the hall as he slowed his own reactive chase at last, still only a small distance from the couch, hearing her huge door swinging open, then slamming shut with a huge crash of wood that made him jump at the sound even though he was on the other side of the apartment.

The young man sank over and down to his butt, capitulating in an instant, his breath rapid and his heart blasting in his chest. Both of his hands came up and covered each eye as he tried not to cry again, the pain, fear, anxiety, and horror of the earlier scene all joining forces together against him. He was…Alone…And he felt as much as he tried to think of what to do, of anything he could do, and failed. It was all just too much, he had been a part of things no one could ever understand. This life he was living was proving to be too hard, and the fact that he had so much more of it to endure yet made his bones ache and his soul tremble with his body. The only person, on this whole earth who even remotely understood him, was…Mira…And now she didn’t want to even try and avoid killing him if he strayed too close to her stride.

“Would you like me to go away?”

A voice came from behind, a voice like a chorus of voices, many, and somehow simultaneously none, being particularly distinguishable.

Anthony jerked his head around and saw the tall, black-clothed man with his hands in his trouser pockets and looking over to him quietly, no judgment or disappointment in his eyes or on his features, his tribal, sharp battle-tattoos etched deep into his skin alongside proud scars earned in unknowable struggles.

The young human glanced away, towards the ground, understanding who it was immediately and feeling an admittedly small bit of relief.

“No…”Anthony said softly.

The man in dark artistic rendering nodded at his response and took a few steps forward, coming to stand adjacent to where the poor boy sat defeated, his hair and toothed fetishes dangling and making small clinking noises with his chainmail rings as he does so without a care.

The man looked down at him for a moment and examined him with a careless smile, his teeth still hidden behind his largely human features.
Coming to sit next to Anthony, the demi-god let out a satisfied groan, getting comfortable before speaking and allowing his human friend a bit of a reprieve.

“I know it’s hard, and I know you are lost, but there’s something I should tell you Anthony Drewgann.”

He looks over at the inhuman deity now, again, and barely holds his head up as the man smiles over to him, canine teeth razor-edged and coming out to greet him as he grins.

“All things worth having require work, pain, and at times…even loss.” He says, pausing momentarily after the last word, “All things, my friend, without exception. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now, but it’s going to be alright…All you need to do is…Well…”

He stops for some reason and looks over in the direction of Mira’s room as if he can see through the walls, smiling still and placing a reassuring arm around the back of Anthony’s neck, pulling him close, over to where he can whisper into his ear, the young man not trying to move away at all.

“Well….I really shouldn’t be telling you this….But...”

“…What?...” Anthony says licking his lips, fearing what might be said next.

The devilish entity’s tongue comes out and licks a sharp incisor on his upper jaw, excited about what he’s about to divulge. The devious man casts his gaze around is several directions, seemingly checking for some strange reason if there might actually be witnesses to what he’s going to privately let slip.

Finding no one, he leans back over, closer even than last time and says in a conspiratorial tone, as if Mira is in the same room, “She won’t be coming out for at least seventeen minutes…You have time…If you choose…”

The two are staring into each other’s eyes, the black demonoid’s, shining gold orbs against Anthony’s, the same shade as Mira’s and vague glimmering with sudden hope and understanding. He passes the words across to the young man, his flickering life-flame starting to grow and remember its own strength with the secret coming out and giving him a chance to save everything about the couple’s relationship.

The demon winks and remains quiet. Anthony simply nods in return slowly, connecting the dots that the man is trying to help him learn and exploit to his advantage.

“But!” the man says standing back up, slapping his knees as he lets go of his companion, “That’s not my business, of course. That’s just for anyone… who might need to know.”

Anthony stands up quickly in turn, not nearly measuring up to the man, but uncaring as he reaches his full height, newly invigorated by the new goal forming in his head.

“Right…Right! I can do this…I’ll just go to her…to her room… and tell her what I have to say.”

Making a balled fist, the man thumps the human’s chest with his hand, trying to solidify his composure as it finally recovers, fully now it seems.

“Go forth and conquer,” the huge man said with odd formality.

Anthony turned briefly to look over to where the immense form of the hallway entrance started, the darker, unlit portion of the apartment, not a welcoming or at all comfortable prospect for him to begin to travel through. He knew though, that the black demon was right, if he could force himself to talk to Mira, try and help her understand like he did that she was correct in her actions, he could help at last assuage her pain and the evening’s events. People had had their lives ended due to her calculated decisions, but the pair as a fact were not among them due to those indisputable choices.

The young man turned to speak one last time to the barbarian who had convinced him of this course of action, his head turning as his voice came out, but was next met with only open air,

“I hope she-“ Anthony blinked as his eyes flickered, confused and surprised, his head darting around in the same fashion. The thing of warm flesh was gone, where he resided during these times he didn’t show himself, or more importantly, where exactly he had vanished to now, was impossible to say, as usual.

The young man nodded to himself and whispered, closing his eyes and bowing his head, banishing all fears of failure or disappointment. He had to try and reach Mira, just like he had when she had nearly eaten him from her cereal bowl. It was the same exact situation, though arguably with vastly different circumstances, but he could not fail. He would not leave her to darkness.

Anthony checked his phone, roughly 2 minutes had passed in the time since the man with golden eyes had given him the unmistakably accurate time limit, and as the demonette’s pet shoved his phone back into his pocket, sprinting away towards the hallway in the distance, he knew the black-haired deviant was right.

He had time.

Anthony could feel his breath beginning to catch, hands on the top of his head, lungs open wide, as he took in gradually fewer sucks of precious oxygen, trying to control his exhalations as he stood before Mira’s towering wooden door. The white, imitation wooden entrance stood vast, high up to the ceiling which seemed like miles away to the man on the soft fibers of the carpet, the top of which shrouded in darkness as if up into some midnight black sky. The light of the hallway wasn’t turned on, so the man’s quick jog was further made eventful by the fact it was fairly hard to see all the way at the end of the corridor, though there was light coming from beneath the slender crack beneath the door’s bottom. Anthony could slip under it if he wished, it was about a foot and a half in his scale from the floor, and there was enough room to wiggle carefully into her domain, but he knew that was wrong, to not only intrude on her, but also to disrespect the space she was taking after their tense encounter.

He was going to knock, that much he had decided on for sure, though he wasn’t as positive she could hear him if he were to, and furthermore even if the massive girl could, there was nothing to say she would even answer his request for an audience. He pondered, maybe instead of a direct confrontation, he might dial her up on his phone and try to reason with her to come to the door and grant him an audience, but that idea faded quickly as he knew he, as well as Mira, were both the more, “in person,” type. Directness was a part of the pair’s personality in equal measure.

Worry swirled in the young man’s mind, apprehension at how things would go after she hopefully turned the handle and revealed herself to him after such a long night of tumult. Life was currently hard, the strange, inhuman male entity had been right, but there was a true feeling of wanting to try and make amends with Mira within Anthony’s mind. He could not allow her to remain like this, even after she had issued her fleeting warning to his wellbeing after the matter, nothing inside him felt like it was reason enough for him not to try and make things right.

He settled himself, nodding his head, again and again, pacing back and forth as he stood before the huge bedroom door, the beast inside, apparently oblivious.  He quickly calculated he may have a couple of minutes after his brief jog that he might use wisely, to practice, as it were.
“Look, Mira,” he started to say to his own ears;

“I know you were right. I know you made the right choice and I’m sorry for almost getting us both hurt because I didn’t think first…”

The air hangs devoid of noise as he pauses and looks off to the end of the hallway, his right hand reaching up and scratching the top side of his head, displeased with that last explanation.

“Agh,” he groans internally as well as aloud, growing frustrated with his efforts.

“No, no…” he starts again, mimicking the voice he hopes to use when he’s done practicing and faced with the real thing, “Look, Mira, I trust you, I really do, it’s just that you scared me, and I wasn’t prepared for what you were capable of. But I know it was all for me...to protect me, and…whatnot…”

Again he stops, this time as he paces in the opposite direction, where the hallway leads to light and the rest of the apartment. He forces his eyes shut and frowns, still dissatisfied with his best rehearsal, shaking his skull and scratching his forehead in annoyance.

“No…Ugh…Come on.” Anthony sighs, trying to work out the best way to speak to his upset demonette, and as that thought crossed his mind, he came to a sudden epiphany, connecting with something Kyle had once said of Mira, a statement now that made a whole lot more sense as he struggled for an answer.

“Wait, everything she did tonight was because of me, but not just because of me,” he stops and breaths out his last conclusion as if he’s been impossibly ignorant of Mira’s own clear motive,

“She did this because she cares about me…And…Ugh…And I forgot that…”

Anthony sighs out and shakes his head, placing one palm over his face and feeling like an absolute fool. Yes, it was a terrible thing to witness, what his very, “gifted,”roommate was capable of, and more so the prospect of what he had yet to even see still, but he had been so caught up with the absolute carnage of the last hour, that he had forgotten that not only was he still alive, and relatively unharmed, but it was all because of the half human girl. She had protected him, because she cared deeply about him.

 He nods coming to the realization and how he could use it in the approaching conversation, telling himself the strategy he’s just thought up is the best way to carry out the discussion. A shaky plan has formed in his mind, it’s risky, extremely risky, and not without the possibility of bodily injury, but that’s the way he had to deal with the dark-hearted woman. Anthony had to measure up, and prove himself to her; otherwise, he’d never gain her respect or acknowledgment, or maintain whatever he had accrued until now. More than a couple small comments or side jokes the beautiful girl had said to him over the weeks abruptly came together, forming a complete image of what the best course of action was. The way Mira treated Anthony was with a sense of endearment, her own special type, one that was frighteningly protective, but overwhelmingly, undoubtedly, possessive. The tiny young man just had to emulate that, and he now knew how he could in the very least, try.

To his alarm, however, Anthony felt a surprising moment of shock course up his legs and into his fragile spinal cord. A tremor of unimaginable power vibrated the floor he stood upon, as Mira who within her room had just jumped off her bed or out of a chair, shook the ground next taking a step or two towards the door, the vast monolith of its rectangular construction swinging open across the far open ground of the carpet in a heartbeat, revealing the towering form of the demon girl.

She was bedecked in her somewhat casual clothing now, another plain white tank top and black compression shorts, the bottoms of which gripped tightly and teased appealingly her toned and firm thighs, as well as outlining magnificently her posterior. 

Unfortunately, as Anthony caught himself staring at once almost immediately, something that before, he might have reflected, had gotten him into this entire situation in the first place, he failed to react as he watched the pretty, white-tipped toes of her left foot come off the ground and soar over with her sole directly overhead of where he stood gawking.

Anthony’s mouth dropped and his stomach knotted as he realized Mira hadn’t seen him as she departed her bedroom. As a result, no shriek or cry came from his lungs, he instead stammered, and began to fall back and away, the prospect of Mira crushing him underfoot bringing his senses to maximum overload as the bottom of her sole grew larger and larger by the second, imminent death following the casual step from the marvelous girl. The slight wrinkles in the skin of the woman’s foot grew by the instant, mutely pale and slightly pink in her softer areas, the bottom of her uncaring body came rushing down to destroy utterly his insignificant life by complete accident.

The tiny, inch tall man turned his head and closed his eyes, teeth gritting and his body bracing for the pain as he found her movement was too quick to avoid, raising up his hands, arms unnecessarily shielding his head in hopeless futility. He should have listened to her, she had instructed him to stay away from the center of the floor, and he had forgotten that as he had taken position in the middle of the doorway, subconsciously thinking that was the proper place to knock at for whatever reason.

Suddenly, the massive underside of her foot stopped, and Mira, high above, furrowed her eyebrows and halted in the same moment, sniffing the air as her nostrils flared a pair of times, a tinge of confusion in her brown gaze.

The girl kept her foot still, not completing the step as she glanced down and casually rolled her ankle to the side, wrinkling her sole and flexing her plump toes away, and revealing her small roommate, occupying the exact spot she would have stepped. He was looking up at her, in a slightly frozen flinch, but as he noticed she hadn’t killed him, he slowly began to mentally recover.

Mira spoke down at him, her voice devoid of feeling, and level,

“I thought I told you to stay out of my way?”

Anthony cleared his throat as she placed her hands on her amazing hips, clearly displeased with his reckless attempt to advance upon and enter her private domain. He cast away his newest run-in with death and gulped heavily a ball of saliva and fear he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding in. He stood, carefully, keeping his intentions clearly non-threatening, as if expecting her to kill him like she could any other insect-like organism if he annoyed or challenged her.

Anthony tried to focus as he stared up at Mira, she was gorgeous and equal measures terrifying, and that always made certain conversations difficult, even in the best of times.

“Look, I…I…”

He pauses, trying to gather his practiced words, and utterly failing, trying as he went to calm himself and lay out his thoughts.

“I just wanted to tell you something…”

As those first words anxiously creep out of his mouth, however, he takes sudden note of something his mind, for whatever reason, can’t just simply ignore at the moment.

“W-wait…”

He pauses and looks around briefly again at her appearance, and something comes up from his mind that he doesn’t think enough about before he blurts out,
“Did…Did you change your clothes again?”

Mira sighs heavily and rolls her eyes, finding herself at the end of the indulgence she’s giving Anthony to make his impromptu peace with her. She lets her arms hang down as she shakes her head, taking a step over Anthony with her great stride, the view high above to him for a split second, momentarily blissful, albeit very, very inappropriate for him to think about and admire for the reasons he was doing so.

The rounded, glorious curves of her butt stretch her thighs as they seem to cast overhead like enormous, jet-black and tanned pillars of flesh. Mira’s body drifts over him quickly, her toned musculature wielding a power to his scale like something that could end buildings and monuments to false gods with its true, seemingly mythical wrath.

But it’s just a step over him towards the kitchen to her, not something out of legend or ancient stories.

Her form makes him hesitate as her heel slams into the ground a distance away, carrying her off, several stomps more in quick succession just after, down the hall and towards the other half of the apartment.

Mira hears Anthony call after her, but she puts his shouts to the back of her mind as she walks onto the cool tile floor, the light still on, washing the room in bright clarity compared to the area by her room.

She opens a door to her cupboard and fishes out a tall, clear glass, next retrieving her typical juice from the fridge and pouring herself a full helping.

She could hear him out, or she could keep avoiding him, she could do anything, truth be told. Mira really wanted to talk to Anthony though too, in fact, she wanted that more than anything right this second, but, to her very core, she was… afraid. The demonette was hiding it well, but she genuinely felt like she was currently the insignificant one in this relationship, despite the unmistakable facts to the contrary. She just couldn’t shake the feeling she had messed up too badly, like she’d ruined everything she’d been building up to, and that there was no going back now, even though her intentions were relatively pure during the horrible act. Mira considered simply ignoring Anthony, not because she wanted to hurt him by doing so, but because, for the first time in her life, she was worried someone might hurt her. The girl knew he wouldn’t do that. She reflected on her emotions and worries, and she knew deep inside he would never actually try to cause her any harm, emotionally, or physically, but even though she was certain of all this, it didn’t change the fact that her feelings were at his mercy, and that she was vulnerable to him. She just couldn’t help but be scared, not knowing how things would go down as soon as they interacted. “Who wouldn’t be,” she thought to herself in silent contemplation.

Mira took a tiny sip of juice, staring towards the wall as she thought silently to herself. She wasn’t even thirsty. The inhuman girl had made the excuse to come out so she could actually start the conversation about what had happened herself, but as soon as she’d seen Anthony had journeyed to do it, something that was not specifically as easy for him as it was for her, she had internally melted before his daring decision to seize the initiative and make the effort himself. That was a move the demonette hadn’t truly expected, and was…happy to have found herself wrong about.

Mira shook her head and took a deep breath, she was going to try, like Anthony was, to make something of this awful night. Relationships were built upon trust, and she needed, despite all her inner protestations, to allow herself to be open and true to her little crush if she ever had hopes of it developing to the future she wanted.

The girl turned and went back the direction she’d come, her glass of orange juice in hand as she strode back down the hallway, this time flicking on the light as she passed it, easily spotting her tiny friend on the floor as she did so, right where she’d left him.

He looked up at her, putting his arms across his chest, as Mira looked down at him, toying with her drink in her massive, right hand.

“Can we please talk?...” Anthony began again just about begging out the words, this time his face serious and his eyes willingly staring up into the huge brown globes of his roommate.

A short silence remains unbroken as Mira keeps staring down at him, bringing her glass up to her feminine lips and taking a drink as she doesn’t blink, Anthony assuming correctly this as a sign that he’s being allowed time to make his case, despite no vocal conveyance of this by the monstrous girl.

“Look I just…I just wanted to say something important to you.”

She kept her glass suspended in the air, effortlessly dangling the immense weight of the cup, and the liquid inside as her eyes kept him square in their possession.

“I…” he shook his head slowly a fraction, “I know what happened tonight was out of your control…I know you just wanted to protect me.”

She cut in, though not because she was not receptive, but because it was genuinely just a slip as the events of the evening played through her mind as well.

“I went through a lot to keep you alive too, you know.”

Anthony nods and keeps looking up, gesturing with his hands that he clearly understood what she was saying.

“I know, I know, I just…I just wasn’t prepared for everything… I’ve, just never seen things like I have tonight.”

Her reply next was cold, like ice that had never known sunlight.

“Never seen something die, hmm? Not just a person, just about anything…Have you?”

Anthony exhaled and prepared not to lie, somehow, someway, she knew the truth of his innermost experience without ever having to dig any further than his surface.

“No.” He said plainly, a quiet distance coming up for a few extra moments. It was an odd thing to admit, but it was the truth, and though he felt somehow less adequate in comparison to Mira’s violent life, he reminded himself her pinky toe was the size of a car to him currently. So things were perhaps a little understandable in contrast.

 “I messed up, and it was my fault,” he continued, feeling as though he was at least moving somewhat forward, “I caused all of this…And… I’m sorry, really…”

Mira narrowed her eyes a fraction, not enough for Anthony to apparently notice, but it was a reflexive reaction she had to something she was surprised by.

“I wasn’t thinking, and I acted inappropriately…And I’m sorry…I don’t think any less of you, or anything like that, for what you did tonight because of it. I was just a bit all over the place when you reached for me afterwards. I don’t think less of you. I promise.”

This was something Mira was becoming glad to hear, and as her small boy-ant continued, her reservations began to evaporate, but her own personal methods of displaying affection were, interesting, to say the least.

“I mean, let’s not forget, you were willing to…to-,”

“To kill for you,” she completed for him.

The words came out like the toning of a haunting bell, like a confession coming from the lips of death itself. It was something that was so frightening a truth, to be defended by such a creature to the death, in such abhorrent and terrifying displays of its power, that the statement alone nearly chilled the man to his soul.

Anthony went silent at this admission, and stared without blinking up at Mira, the inhuman woman slowly bringing the rim of her glass to her plush, soft lips and taking another sip of her drink as she maintained eye contact with him far below, accentuating her lack of humanity. The skin of her mouth pressed against the edges of the drink, a flood of orange liquid draining into the abyss of her throat, a veritable lake to the tiny man that washed down on the way to the darkness of her stomach.

She was, awesome, by mostly two definitions. Firstly in the way that had him completely infatuated with her, in just about every possible fashion, then, however, in the total, unmistakable power she wielded over the world, with little regard for anything but herself, and Anthony. 

The man nodded slowly, coming back to his senses as he arrived at the point she had meant for him to find all night, ever since the confrontation in the parking lot. She had ended lives for him, because he belonged to her, and only her.

“Yes,” he said nearly at a whisper, as if fearful of admitting it, “you did...”

There was a quiet pause between the pair as those last, darkly coated words cemented into memory; it was a horrid, yet beautiful thing, a fact only true love could produce, but also, a true, unmitigated lack of remorse.

Mira was the one to speak next, raising an eyebrow and taking in a breath, her gifted chest rising as she exhaled saying,

“And what do we say for such a nice favor?” the girl says with a strangely motherly tone, a tiny smirk arriving on her lips, drawing out the word, “say,” ever so slightly.

Anthony smiles and tries not to chuckle at her ridiculous nature returning so suddenly, that, and the fact he doesn’t want to find humor in her essentially executing three of his former classmates as if they were dirt beneath her toes.

The man sighs and nods, saying reluctantly it would seem up to his roommate, “Yes, alright. Thank you, Mira.”

The girl high above glances to her drink dismissively and turns it about its axis effortlessly in her grip, the orange juice rolling calmly inside as she casually replies,

“I don’t think I heard you, come on now, you can do better than that…”

Her friend rolls his eyes and is still wearing a grin as he scratches his eyebrow, clearly embarrassed at this childish demand.

“I said, thank you, Mira!” he says, notably louder this time, and placing emphasis on each word, expecting that to be enough for her.

He is, however, incorrect.

The girl glances back down to Anthony, her gaze finding him again, as her lids narrow and that smirk she was enjoying grows to a full, yet sensual, display.

“Kiss my foot, insect…”

A somewhat risky, sudden demand, Mira knows even as the words slip from her breath, though not because she doesn’t think he’ll actually do it, but because she isn’t sure if he’ll like it or not. She knows he has a foot fetish, and she knows for sure he likes her toes, but she wants to try and demean him currently in a way that they might both, particularly enjoy. Seems like an easy enough thing to try first. Mira is new to this whole, “partnership,” thing, so she hopes its something she can at least learn from based on how it goes.

Anthony blinks in surprise, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his nervous head, clearly almost struck back to the ground with the absurdity of her incomprehensible demand. His voice fails to materialize, but his thoughts race in an uncontrollable scramble.

“You- I- …WHAT?! N-no way!” Anthony stammered, too far off guard to form a complete sentence as he looked up at Mira, whose first reaction is to raise her eyebrow and slightly pull her head away, the act of being evidently refused reflecting in her eyes.

The obvious surprise at her instruction had really thrown most of his perception out the window, and as the young man tried to continue, he took an involuntary step back and then glanced to her nearest, settled foot, the pristine white tips of her toes bright in the darkness of the hallway. Although made of nothing but dense protein, he could not help but feel like they emanated a sort of pride, or had somehow, a personality of their own, like he felt about the rest of Mira’s elegant body.

“I said,” she began lowly this time, cocking her head down to him and smiling, “kiss my foot… Did I stutter?”

Her voice was that quiet, sensual tone, no malice or threat poured over it, not like when she was actually angry, but Anthony knew as he remained where he stood, that the longer he did not oblige, the more likely she was to unleash something unpleasant and bring back that more, aggressive, demeanor. 

“It’s done a lot for you, and it deserves your appreciation… so show it, orrrr…”

She trailed off looking to her glass with a playful, reluctant smirk, making sure not to look at him as she finished adding the icing to her conversational cake.

“I’ll add you to the list of things it’s played too rough with over the years…”

At this, she arches upwards the ball of her right foot, the thick, rounded digits stretching and wiggling as if to remind him of their growing boredom with his hesitation, and their desire to have their way with his life.

Anthony gasped out and tried to speak again, unsure if Mira was actually being serious, though convinced she meant to intimidate him regardless. He swallowed hard again, and watched as her foot undulated in minute flexes and twitches, keeping the incalculable weight of her perfect physique aloft and balanced.

They were pretty, and more importantly, they were attached to Mira which made the idea tempting. Anthony blinked a few times trying to calm his racing heart and quickly think to himself. This was something he could find not just exciting, but even arousing at the right moment, though he felt a little odd being ordered to do something that felt on the outside so demeaning for the first time.

The enormous girl above though, turning her glass lazily in her hand, watching the juice roll as if absent-mindedly, did not allow him to have his time to think.
“Tick tock my little bug boy…”

Mira’s voice startled Anthony, bringing his silent hesitation to an abrupt end, and urging him to make a decision. Before the young man moved though, he spoke again, something of a dark thought coming to him, but a necessary question he felt at the present situation.

“Did…Did you at least clean them first?”

She glances down to him in response, in addition to speaking back, her lips parting and her voice traveling out a moment slower in reply than she’d intended.

“I did, though I didn’t have too…You’re lucky I’m still technically half human. And you’re lucky I like you…”

“Just like, huh?” Said the small man, a bit of his comfort returning and being shielded by his nervous humor. He half smiled up to her as she narrowed her eyes, seeing through his ruse without difficulty.

“Don’t push me, lover-boy…Now get over here and press your lips against my foot, before I go to bed and leave you in the hallway to fend for yourself.”

Anthony sighed and nodded reluctantly, gesturing with his hands and closing his eyes as he mentally prepared himself.

“Alright, alright…Fine…”

He glanced up at her one last time and then cleared his throat, unsure what to do with his anxiety as he took two, very apprehensive steps, falling into a normal stride after those as he went on. It was about twelve or sixteen inches from where Mira stood waiting eagerly, but to the dime-sized man it was about a 30-second walk, something akin to he reflected, to the long-walk that bomb disposal professionals generally took during their terrifying day-life.

The outline of Mira’s white, slightly tanned foot grew larger as he slowed a little more, getting to within a few of his feet to the enormous, thickly rounded toes of the girls sole. They reminded Anthony, somewhat like teeth, as oddly as that sounded. He imagined them being, especially now, like the mouth of a predator, something eager to take his life, as if he were a tiny mackerel seeing the huge teeth of a shark just before it was devoured, the instruments of its demise the last things the fish would ever see.

The man exhaled deeply, the top of his head just barely reached the bottom curve of some of her pearly white nails, the color he had earlier been so happy to choose being employed now in an ominous game to try and unnerve him. Mira’s largest toe was nearly twice his total, albeit reduced height, and as he neared her skin, he naturally approached this digit of hers, the bulbous mound of skin now really emphasizing her imposing body, something that at his normal size could be considered small and cute, was now a size to him that could squish his body to paste of it got too bored with his tiny existence.

Anthony glanced up nervously, uncomfortably craning his neck to look all the way up, one last time at Mira. She was looking down at him and watching, a smile still on her face as she beckoned him with a quick nod.

“Well?... Go on…”

Anthony glanced back down and hesitated, stopping himself from shaking his head and walking away, the less tanned, slightly dirty skin of her toe rippling with her print, and the slightest bit rough near the bottom where it met the floor.

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, if he was going to do this, he wasn’t going to watch his lips touch her. He still felt this act, while not specifically demeaning, was something he was a little uncomfortable with, but mostly because he was embarrassed to admit he might enjoy it. The man also didn’t want to give the demon girl any excuse to gloat or poke fun at him in the future, and this command for submission was something that would be a perfect memory for Mira to enact that revenge on him later.

Anthony leaned forward, moving his torso over slowly anticipating the next thing he’d feel would be Mira’s warm skin on his lips, wondering to himself as he went, how all of this would ultimately end by the night’s conclusion.

Suddenly, from high above, Mira tilted her glass carefully in her hand, her mouth coming open a fraction as she poured the contents of her drink out and down, aiming for the front of her foot and the area her little crush occupied on the carpet below. She was pretty sure the liquid wouldn’t injure him at his size, she figured it would be just unpleasant enough to maybe force him to his knees if her aim was true.

She was correct.

The orange juice slammed into Anthony and the utter splashing he received took him completely by surprise, just before he could make contact with Mira’s toe. The man collapsed over, the scent and taste of the acidic juice filled his sense as he was drenched in the glass’ contents, washed over as if he had suddenly stood in an orange deluge somehow for hours.

Anthony coughed and gagged a few times, the juice got into his ears, and momentarily washed into his eyes and nose, burning slightly. He found himself on his side, dashed to the carpet and facing Mira’s foot as it wiggled its toes playfully, they themselves now also covered in juice, as if the individual digits enjoyed the feeling the slickness of the drink brought when they rubbed together with each other.

Mira giggled down to him as her little roommate gasped and managed to open his eyes partially. She spoke, clear amusement in her tone.

“Well, you were actually going to do it, huh? Aren’t you just the most adorable little slave?”

Anthony didn’t respond, trying to blink away sticky liquid and wiping his face, the shivering temperature of Mira’s drink still holding his body rigid in sudden shock.
“I’m feeling more awake now, so I think I’ll do some dishes before bed. If you make it to the kitchen before I finish, I’ll clean you up, Anty.”

The girl brought the glass up to her lips one last time and poured the remains of the refreshment down her throat, sighing as she closed her eyes before speaking again.

“Ah, my favorite…”

Anthony finally found his voice, and he tried not to sound belligerent as he replied, still a little salty however at being drenched, no matter how much he tried to calmly speak.

“Its… A little strong, I think…”

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the juice, sweetheart…”

Anthony blinked…his lungs stopped pulling in oxygen, and his stomach immediately felt…oddly weightless…

What….What did she just say?

Before he could vocalize this question, he looked up in time to see her step over him and away, her hips just barely moving back and forth with the motion of her amazing butt, the glass hanging limply by the edge of the rim in her right hand, and her hair draped elegantly down to her lower back as she casually strolled off, towards the kitchen.

Anthony was still on the ground, rolled onto his chest now so that he could watch Mira head down the hall, eyes wide in disbelief, while his body still dripped with a tangy orange coating.

He let his gaze drop after she rounded the corner out of sight, moving his hands and finding them squelch beneath the wet floor. He closed his eyes and groaned at the newest mess his roommate had made of him. He could not help but smile though; she was silly, and funny in her own way. She had called him, “sweetheart,” he was sure of it, and that use of names sent his feelings flying into the proverbial clouds. She was majestic and caring, but potentially violent and wrathful, like the seas of ancient past, untamed and depthless. She was dangerous, but often times things like that, as she was, were beautiful when they were at peace.

Mira felt the drink she’d spilled sticking her toes and the ball of her foot to the linoleum of the kitchen as she headed near to the sink. Taking herself over to the counter and grabbing a paper towel from the portable dispenser, she ran some water lightly onto it and held herself up by the edge of the countertop, curving the underside of her foot up as she balanced on one leg. The demonette folded her brown hair away behind her ear as she went to work cleaning her skin, the juice, when it was wet, had been pleasant, now it was, however, a bit gross. 

She tossed the towel away into the garbage, and looked to the sink of dishes, reaching next for her phone in her pocket, intent on putting on some music so that she could entertain herself as she went about some nightly chores. She fished out the device as the screen lit up, but as she poked her password in, she spoke aloud to herself,

“Oh right, they’re in my room.”

Her headphones, she realized, were still probably on her bed. Mira had taken them out of her pocket when she’d changed the first time, and when she’d changed back, they’d remained where she typically slept.

The girl turned on her heel and started to stroll back to her room, being certain as her feet rose and fell into the carpet she would not have misplaced her little friend as he made his way to his ultimate destination of the kitchen. She spotted him immediately, he seemed to be just now picking himself up, squeezing his sopping clothes free of some juice as he glanced up and took note of her return.

She didn’t slow her pace as she walked through the apartment and stepped over him, speaking down to him as she bounced her eyes brows with the words.

“Beep, beep!”

She said out in a higher-than-normal pitch, pretending as if apparently the two were part of some kind of traffic.

She opened her door in the next instant, snatching up her white cabled headphones from the soft comforter of her bed, turning about in nearly the same motion to leave. Mira took a step back out and unlocked her phone, looking down at the screen as she shut off her room light and pulled the door back shut again. The girl poked at the lightened screen as her hair draped slightly forward, her pretty face and eyes cast in a blue glow that made them both shine.

Keeping her focus to her device, though fully aware of her actions, she took a couple more steps down the hall, clicking through her online playlist and trying to decide where to start for the evening.

Anthony turned and glanced over his shoulder as one of Mira’s feet, decorated with her whitened tips, landed to his right side with a thud and a tremor. To the small man’s sudden alarm, her opposite pad came crashing down to his other side. For a moment of half-onset panic, he flinched away from both as they landed, fearing Mira had lost track of where he had been standing.

The demonette’s small friend looked up at her, the girl’s legs first to fill his vision, vast and towering like stonework columns of pretty, toned skin. Looking farther up still, Mira’s chest bulged outwards and half obscured his line of sight to her face, as she held her phone up and horizontal, her headphones in her left hand dangling like the heavy, thick cables of a suspension bridge.

“So, are you coming or not,” she began as she clicked with the same hand that held her device. She glanced down and passed the screen for the briefest instant, raising her eyebrow and awaiting his reply.

“I…Uh…Yea… It just takes me a little more time than usual to get around, compared to you. If you hadn’t noticed…”

She smirked at this as she flicked her eyes back to her phone, smiling to herself, and down to him.

“You want me to carry you?”

“I would appreciate it, yea. Things would go much faster.”

“Hmmm…” she says in mock contemplation, not intending for a second to help or indulge his request.

“Naaah, you’re just sooo far down…It would be hard on my back! You’ll be fine, the walk will be good for you!”

Anthony rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh, seeing through her humor and realizing she was never going to offer him aid in the first place. He’s proven correct as he notices next, her sockless foot come off the ground and take a step, moving the mass of her great physique away into motion once more.

Mira takes a step, then one more, and feels her headphones slide out of her left hand, flopping accidentally to the floor as her eyes connect with the white cables. Without thinking, and entirely unintentionally giving Anthony quite the view, shelowers her body down onto her right foot, and turns her left leg outwards, holding herself up but kneeling down to a position she might take before sitting.

The inch tall man watches as Mira lowers herself down, as if in slow motion, the tight, flexible material of her shorts stretching around her butt, trying desperately to hold in their voluptuous contents. Anthony can swear he feels the sky falling, as if such a thing were at all even possible, the looming shape of Mira’s glorious back end seeming to vibrate the air with its dimensions, the fabric of her lower garment making a slight audible noise as the cloth expands with her movements.

She holds her right hand with her phone up as she looks down to pluck up her headphones, which have come to rest before where she’s stooped. Her back is arched, her hair, lazily dangling with subtle curves that aren’t quite curls. The shoulder muscles of her well-toned torso form a butterfly-like display on her back from the open sides of her tank top, the bones and tendons of her connected arms healthy and firm.

The sight, as it can be described, leaves Anthony wide-eyed, and gaping, his face burning red in an instant, brighter than he could ever remember, as Mira’s perfect anatomy displays itself to its tiny onlooker as if to show off the flawless curves and bulges it has to offer him. The man shudders. The unknowing demonette is far enough away that he doesn’t feel threatened, but close enough to loom over him, like a moon crashing to earth at the slowest possible rate. A moon, that was the best way to describe her lowered posture. She was a thing of impeccable beauty, and as every roll of her hair and bend of her flesh flaunted all it could promise him, he felt himself gasp out, unable to contain his absolute awe.

Mira heard him.

The girl’s brow furrowed, and her head tilted a fraction, confusion in her mind. She hadn’t stepped on him, and she hadn’t even sat down, so why was he-

“Oh…” She says quietly to herself, realizing what she’s just done. Mira narrows her eyes now though, smirking deliciously as she understands now…Oh, does she understand. Being a girl, sometimes things happen, especially involving herself that she just doesn’t think about, something like this that puts her pose in quite the alluring position to her oblivious mind. She knows Anthony is respectful, and as she slowly turns her head and looks down and over her shoulder with that playful smile, she confirms her suspicions.

Everyone.  Absolutely everyone, has their limitations. And she proves just a little too much for him, yet again.

He’s staring at her, transfixed is probably the better word, mouth open and breath rasping as she sees him entranced by her well-rounded backside. She raises one eyebrow and nibbles on her lower lip, her sparkling eyes watching the watcher with growing enthusiasm and entertainment. She’s got him in a trance, like a poor little moth to the light, and with the employment of only her butt alone.

Though it is, she has to admit, probably a little unfair because it’s about the size of a celestial body to him currently.

Mira clears her throat, she could watch him frozen there in his stupor for ages, but she wants what will come next much, much more. So she has to make it happen by interrupting his daze.

Anthony glances up, as if jarred from a deep, dreamful sleep.

The small man’s eyes meet the giant girl as they both stare at one another for a second, before Anthony shakes his head and throws his gaze off to a different direction.

He stammers, his voice broken and fleeting, in anobvious panic.

“I-I-I didn’t mean- I just-“

“Shhhhh…” she whispers down and over to him as he swallows hard with his head turned and eyes pressed tightly shut.

He’s so sweet, so veritably innocent and noble. He deserves everything Mira can offer him and more, she thinks quietly, so the half human woman begins to do just that, despite him needing a little help to receive it all.

“Anthony, it’s alright…” she mutters to him.

He’s still scolding himself and shaking his head with eyes closed firmly, now having placed his hands on his face and rubbing it, clearly embarrassed, the silly boy.

“Anthony… I want you to watch,” she coos to him, “please…for me…”

The mildly panicking boy gulps down his saliva and puts the back of one of his hands to his upper lip, hesitating, but wanting to indulge this request with all that he is, truly. He takes a deep breath and licks his lips as he slowly turns and regards Mira, first looking for her eyes, the act to assure her that those are what he’s most interested in, as if to prove he doesn’t just want her for her incredible appearance.

The girl’s smile widens at one side as she ever so lightly, wags her hips back and then forth, carrying aloft the immense weight of her butt as if to her it meant nothing at all, all the while keeping her gaze on her tiny, adorable audience member. She sways, side to side, silently and gracefully, her strong legs and thighs taut and moving her muscles enticingly.

Back, and forth.

Back, and forth, she goes.

It seems to last hours, Anthony watching without hardly blinking as his throat squeezes shut of its own accord. He’s stopped breathing from his nose as Mira keeps her motions fluid, with each move of her hips, putting more of her lower back and sides into the display, accentuating her curves, her most effective assets, her expert ability to tease and entice.

He is suddenly aware that he can’t stop his own body from reacting.

More and more, by the second, Anthony can sense in his lower groin the uniquely male addition to his body swell and pulse more with his heartbeat. The thing that’s been teased into existence can be seen by Mira as well in the form of a rising bulge in his wet shorts, though at the present moment, she decides not to point it out…There will be a time and place for something like that, she thinks excitedly to herself…

“…Anthony…” she starts again, her voice coming out as a whisper formed from deep affection.

The man inhales unsteadily and replies back, unable to tear his eyes away from her little show, a show just for him.

“…Yea?...”

“Come to the kitchen…I’m waiting for you…” she murmurs to him with a smile and a wink.

Anthony can only nod now, his base human urges are almost overwhelming, and he struggles to try and focus, but in the next instant, the spell is broken.

Mira rises to her full height and smiles widely without any teeth on display, turning a small shade of red herself now, watching him for a bit as she takes a step away that sends an earthquake through her crush’s bones.

The last thing the young man sees before her face is replaced by the draped brown of her hair is Mira play with her left side canine tooth with her tongue, more excited now than he’s ever probably seen her.

Then, a few disappointingly quick seconds later, she was gone, around the corner and in her apartment’s kitchen again, the whole event taking only a few minutes from start to finish.

Anthony suddenly didn’t care that he was covered in drying orange juice, damp heavily in his soaked clothes, or that he had no plan whatsoever with how to behave the rest of the young night.

With renewed vigor, he ran.

He ran, though not because he was excited for this recent, very sexual interaction, but because he wanted to see Mira right now more than ever before in his life.
 

Anthony came to a halt, as Mira turned to acknowledge him in the same second, the huge girl standing what seemed like miles away at the sink to the small, significantly shortened man. The woman had her phone in her pocket, an earbud from her headphones in each of her hands as she glanced his way, finding his gasping silhouette hunched down to his knees, but there none the less, sooner than she’d anticipated.

She just smiled at him at first, as he did in return, albeit out of breath. Anthony was glad to see her face, her eyes, once again. She gestured with a quick little jerk of her head, inviting him, “over,” to come and enjoy her presence, Mira just finishing selecting and fine-tuning the songs that would go into her newest playlist. She’d made this one, just for tonight, there were a few things she wanted to share, in more than a couple of ways, and the act of involving Anthony had been the most exciting prospect for an outcome she could plan for the evening. There were things that could be said with words, or with actions, but Mira liked music, so tonight that was her chosen language.

Mira reached down and pulled the rectangular smartphone from her right pocket in her tight fabric exercise shorts. They were designed to be athletic compression bottoms, and while she did use them for that purpose, she found more often she wore them because they were comfortable, and because of course, she knew they drove Anthony wild, not that he’d soon be openly admitting that.

The small man himself was walking at a slower, more relaxed pace, reaching the harder and smooth white floor of the kitchen, although he consciously avoided the spot where he’d died to Mira’s foot not long before previously. It wasn’t obvious, not to anyone else at least, but that specific spot in the apartment, that small, coin-sized area, made him supremely uncomfortable. He was certain it would be a feeling he would carry the rest of his days.

Such a thing mattered little though in the grand scheme of life. Everything had changed between the pair. Things were changing still even now, and for the better, Anthony knew it. The young, average, college-aged young man and the half-human, half-demon beauty of a girl had come upon one another and arrived at their mutual fate by accident, but together they had stayed, not out of necessity, perhaps at first, but now ultimately, they had found they simply just could not resist each other’s company.

The human ant came to a spot where he could watch Mira, and equally as important comfortably rest as she went about her chores for the night, namely the dirty dishes. The kitchen table, with its four matching chairs, sat towards the entrance of the dining area, near to the other side of the room against a wall. Where Anthony’s roommate stood, across the way, was the sink, counter, and the adjacent, plain white refrigerator. The right-hand wall held more counter space, drawers, more cupboards, and the slightly worn black oven with the older, rounded heat coils as the accompanying stove. Nothing elaborate or fancy, an area that exuded simplicity and pragmatism, as their owner did.

Anthony rather liked it here, at Mira’s place. It was cozy, and he felt, strangely more at home within these average walls. The two had only known this place when they came to hang out and rest, and the man was reflecting on how thankful he was that his pretty demon captor had not broached the question of venturing to his own simple apartment fifteen minutes or so away.

His respective living arrangement wasn’t ill-kempt or anything, nor was it ugly to his eye or run down. He lived in a nice enough neighborhood, basically on the other side of the school they both attended, in a complex not so unlike this one. Anthony was actually planning to invite Mira over, but he was glad she hadn’t put him into that position by asking, because he wasn’t sure the timing for their relationship was right, if it was appropriate, and, as silly as it sounded, if she would accept his invitation.

It was one of Anthony’s immediate goals, and but he had always intended to have her over for more than the stereotypical dinner and a movie. He just had to think of something special in the meantime that he felt was worthy of her first impression.

The man sat against the wall, the brown wooden table of Mira’s kitchen off to his slight right in the distance, like a great structure of imposing grandeur fit for description in a fantasy novel. Before him, running a bit of water and music now playing through her earbuds, was the woman he’d shared this place with and would continue to do so for about eleven months more he assumed.

She tapped a foot or swayed side to side periodically for a bit of time here, a span of moments there, enjoying the songs she’d chosen precisely for this evening.

Anthony watched her and smiled, pulling out his own phone from his short's pocket and finding, to his gratitude, that he would not need to replace it just yet due to juice damage, the glass front glowing alive when prompted by his fingertips. As the boy clicked away and looked for his usual music and messaging apps, he mentally added to his next shopping list a more…resilient…case for it to go in.

The young man opens his messenger, tapping onto Mira’s chat bubble, her pretty face on the circle-outlined picture and as gorgeous as he remembers it. The boy frowns slightly, not sure what to open with, stealing next a quick glance over to the destination of his message. He admires Mira for a few seconds trying to use her without consent as sort of inspiration, smiling from one edge of his mouth as he watches her wobble happily as she scrubs and rinses plates and cups. The woman’s hair wafts along with her motions, flicking softly in rhythm with the play of her body, which twitches pleasantly to the tune of her music. Mira’s leisurely, but constant movement suggests she might be listening to something slower, maybe even something…Romantic?

The man opts to find out. Seems like an easy enough way to start a conversation, and thus far he’s wanted to continue talking with her. He hopes she won’t mind him interrupting, but is confident she will at least stay relatively calm.

Anthony glances back to his phone as he types his message asking, trying to seem relaxed although feeling the exact opposite, sending it after a short correction to his spelling, and awaiting a reply.

The demonette looks to her device as she fishes it out after a light pinging sound, careful not to get it wet with her busy hands. A smile comes next, and her small roommate can just see it from where he resides on the floor, raising his chest with a warm wash of excitement.

“Bloowoop,” comes the message reply almost at once, and Anthony glances down to his phone, finding a link that translates to a video thumbnail in the latest reply. Mira takes note of him receiving the message out of the corner of her eye, then goes back to scrubbing a blue plastic plate that’s giving her a bit of trouble.

Anthony doesn’t recognize the song, so despite not having headphones, he plays it and lowers his volume to a more private level.

[Play (Jane XØ - Hard To Forget) for maximum immersion]

The song starts normally enough, a soft beat that pleases his personal taste in music. Then, as it continues on, within the first half a minute he picks up on the theme of the song itself. There’s an obvious message within the peppy lyrics, and it’s not lost on the young man.

“Playing hard to get…” He says quietly to himself, as the beat keeps on, the hint she seems trying to be giving him, registering with rising understanding.

“Bloowoop,” goes his phone again, nearing the middle of the song.

Anthony looks up from his phone as he catches Mira set hers down on the countertop, keeping it out of her stretchy pocket for now, looking like she intends to use it more.

“What do you think? :) Rate it out of 5 and then send me one. Then I’ll rate yours!”

Anthony blinked a few times…wait a second…

“Send her one?” He thought silently to himself. “Crap,” he swore at once inside his head, “What the heck do I send her??”

Quickly, the minuscule boy frantically flicks with both hands, typing, to his honest admission, one of only a few songs he can think of to reply with, one he feels isn’t too strong, but is not lost on its purpose. He does think of sending something else, something much more daring, but he instantly concludes the safer route is best for this delicate opener. His ultimate choice has got relatively the same type of underlying tone, and is basically in the same genre, so he figures it could be a solid opening shot. It does very effectively capture what he’d like to say to Mira, and as he pastes the link and sends the message attaching a, “4/5,” he’s glad she proposed this fun exchange.

[Play (The Blizzard & Yuri Kane - Everything About You ft. Relyk (Sauniks Remix)]

Anthony looks up and licks his lower lip a flick in anticipation. His mouth is dry, probably from being nervous and running across half the house as he watches Mira read, then tap his text link to listen.

For a few breathless seconds, nothing…

But then, to Anthony’s relief and excitement, slowly but surely Mira continues her wagging, soft and gradual as she had been before, tapping her foot again on her heel and even putting her shoulders into her little bouncy mood. Anthony is pleased to see she seems to rather like his choice, and is no doubt, as he had before, reading the hidden personal message the song was meant for her to understand.

“Having fun? “came a sudden voice from the young man’s side.

Completely surprised, and more than a little freaked out, Anthony jerks abruptly away, startled out of his intimately personal moment with Mira, as well as his private thoughts, and finding the demon-creature of black sitting next to him, having arrived there somehow without a sound.

“Jesus-shit!-“he exclaims out, unable to keep his voice down as a result of his shock. His phone, unfortunately, goes airborne, and he fumbles around in the air for it as it flops and bounces out of his grasp several times, falling past his hands and heading for the floor, surely to detonate spectacularly on impact with his panic. He can see it now, all playing out in slow motion, the night ruined, and the next few days without a phone seeming to drag on forever due to his destroyed electronic, the music game coming to a disappointing end.

The demon catches the tumbling phone without effort though, continuing to speak as if nothing had happened, brandishing it before the human.

“You’ve discovered you both share the same taste in instrumental and vocal sounds then, yes? One of the many things the two of you share in common…”

The man tries to shake off his unexpected surprise, focusing on the form of the tattooed figure, sitting in roughly a similar manner, but nearly two heads superior in size. He cleared his throat, then managed a reply, taking the phone as it is offered to him by the entity without prompting.

“Yea, we've found out we like the same music…What’re you-“

“Doing here?” the thing finishes, “I came to check on you, to gauge your progress and to see if you required any further aid.”

“…Oh…” Anthony says flatly, a little bit of his anxiety fading at the response from the yellow-eyed being.

He glances over to Mira, she’s still got her headphones in and is oblivious to the current conversation, so the pair continue after this is relatively certain.

“Well, no…I’m doing alright, thank you…But why do you keep helping me? Why do you keep appearing randomly? I’m not ungrateful, I actually really appreciate it.”

The creature raises his eyebrow and smirks at the comment thanking him for his efforts.

“But why? And who are you?” he says and then waits, feeling like he could expect and receive any answer, any truth.

There was so much Anthony didn’t know. Before long ago, he had held a normal understanding of the world, and now, he was practically dating a half demon, shrank in size for twelve hours a day, and had felt other strange things he could not easily explain. Some answers now would go a long way, especially from his current confidante. He was eager for any.

“Pronouns of your language are sufficient for addressing me. I see no reason to change that.”

Anthony let his face wither at such an anticlimactic answer.

“Well, great, that answers that I guess…”

“And as for why I come to help you, I simply want to see you happy. You and that half-blooded crossbreed.” The entity said with a jerk of its chin in the general direction of Mira, it's discontent evident.

“Why…Why is it that you don’t like her so much? Do you know her?”

A cracking, wicked grin, of far too many teeth lays out before him at this question, a smile that makes the human man uneasy sending a shiver up his back.

“I know…Everyone…” it said in a voice that seemed to perpetually vibrate in its deep throat.

Anthony blinked hesitantly and swallowed at the implication of this.

The words of grinding stone continued, echoing lowly like a great roll of muted thunder.

“Strength does not come from one’s ability to enact cruelty. Know this well, young one,” there’s a pause now as Anthony allows the words to sink deeply into his mind, “Mira is capable of cruelty, but she is not strong. Not yet, in any case. Those of true worth do not prey upon the weak; those of strength seek out each other, to test themselves.”

Nothing comes from the young man in reply, the “young one,” as the dark entity seems to take on a curiously lectured tone.

“…The strong, hunt the strong…”

Anthony glances down and to the thing’s rippled body, musculature that looks completely human crisscrossed with scars, but in the places it is not, the skin is covered in deep, black, tribal tattoos of sharpened points and elaborate curves.

“But why I dislike her is irrelevant, I just want what’s right,” it kept on again as it moistened its lips, “Neither of you has ever understood what drew you together in the first place, and only in time is it possible for you to learn. You’re both…well…” it paused now, glancing up and staring at Mira for a few moments, watching her closely before darting its gaze back to Anthony, the entity’s golden, shining eyes seeming to bore through him like the female demonette’s tended to.

“Just show her who you are, and never try and hide what resides within your truest parts. It’s the reason why even I like to keep your company…”

The human male seemed to be taken aback by this revelation turned compliment, the statement enlightening, though simultaneously as always, just vague enough to remain frustrating. But before he could ask more, the demon took his phone, snatching it with non-threatening speed and unlocking it without a need for the password, which unsettled its owner more than he initially admitted.

“H-hey, what gives, man?” he says, not understanding the purpose of the gesture.

He poked a few buttons and scrolled through the song list, seeming to search for something.

 “Ah yes, here we are…”

The barbaric creature stands and smiles to himself, content with the selection and looking over to where Anthony still sits. He tosses the phone down to the boy as he catches it haphazardly, fumbling it to his lap.

“You should have gone with your first choice, could have saved you both a few minutes. Though I suppose I rather liked how the first round of songs made you both feel.” The thing says with a grin and narrowing its eyes.

“My…First choice…?” Anthony shifts his gaze to the phone and sees just what the thing with the glowing eyes had been referring to. The next moment he goes to reply again, but isn’t surprised to see the large barbarian has vanished once more. He refocuses to his phone, shaking his head at his company’s rude, sudden departure. It was a song that was…a lot more suggestive than he would have liked…Much more on the nose and a great deal more inappropriate, but in truth he had thought of sending that as his immediate reaction to this musical trade-off.

Would she go for something like that? Or would she find it gross or weird? This was Mira he was thinking about, and she was extremely…unorthodox, but he didn’t want the bold statement to backfire.

No, anything but that.

“Bloowoop,” goes his messenger again.

“4.9/5, not bad, I actually like it a lot.”

That reply is short, but the bobbing dots of the app suggest she’s typing more, evidently sending the next song for him and including something longer than just a link.

“This one…I like to think reflects my personality…  ;3 also, like the song says…I have a little hole in my heart you might be able to fill… if you’re up for the challenge Anty...”

[Play(Bryce Fox - Horns (STéLOUSE Remix)]

Anthony turns a shade redder, feeling his face flush at Mira’s slightly affectionate, digital note. She sure does like setting boundaries and then completely disregarding them.

The song plays, this one has what can be considered a darker, much more suggestive and seductive flavor. It describes the equally mysterious, dangerous, and alluring personality that Mira possesses, to the man’s mind, perfectly.

There is no misinterpreting the meaning in this casual, musical confession. It’s not like before, when the sensual teasing of thoughts, compounded by the most recent lewd encounter in the hallway, seemed to only add to what had already been felt. This is different. She’s telling him everything about what happened tonight, what will happen in the future, and what has been written in the past. It’s not subtle, and the reasoning is unmistakable, everything is out in the open.

Of everyone Anthony has ever met in his life, Mira is the one who most understands the absolute core of her heart, how dark, and deadly it can truly be. Then again, all at once, she knows there’s a small piece of her that wants something more, someone more. Mira is like fire. Like war. Like the ocean during a hurricane… Like death; she in truth, has no master, but that who only she herself deems worthy.

The beats and lyrics come to an end.

Mira stops her spontaneous wobbles, and reaches back behind her shoulders, fluffing her hair and stretching herself upwards, running her fingers through groups of brown strands. She grasps for her phone, knowing full well the song is over, and glances to the screen, seeing there’s no reply or message to respond to her latest selection. The girl glances over her shoulder and tilts her head to one side, nodding upwards quickly to Anthony as he watches her, still mildly dumbstruck by her appearance.

The young man blinks a few times and stutters out an, “oh, right,” to himself, poking a few characters into his texting application, but then, however, he stops, and her current choice of outfit is on his mind again.

He remembers the demonette had changed when first arriving back home, and then, strangely enough, back to something clearly more…revealing. He can’t seem to figure out why, there didn’t seem to be a purpose to that course of decisions, so he decides to ask and find out for himself.

“Before I give you another song, that was a 5 btw, why did you change clothes, then change again earlier?”

Clicked and sent. He hadn’t thought much about how she’d react over across the room, it seemed like a harmless enough question, but the answer kept a constant curiosity about him despite that.

Mira picks up her phone and reads the short contents, speaking aloud with a look over her shoulder.

“Well…”

She turns fully now, and places both her hands flat on the counter, fingers spread and arms extended, back against the sink. Mira places one foot against the sink’s underside doors, balancing on her opposite leg, cocking her head to one side as she shrugs. Her chest is open to admiration as she speaks again, fully aware her pose is enticing.

“I just don’t like people to see me when I’m comfortable. I don’t show-off myself for just any old bug that crosses my path. Only certain people get to see me in my regular appearance.” She says with a normal tone, which in the next sentence, changes to something more typical her interactions with Anthony.

“Which is why when our guests had been dealt with, I changed back…”

She lowers her voice…and reminds him of a haunting detail from the night Anthony had himself decorated her floor with his blood, that at the time of it taking place, seemed insignificant.
Like he had been.

“Don’t you remember? Before I killed you, I changed for you… Because I knew you were special…”

She smiles at him now, leaning her weight to the leg she’s balanced on, tilting her head with the slight movement.

“So, I’m special because you’re comfortable around me?” Anthony says hesitantly, “How many people have seen you…You know… Like this?” He says with a flick of his wrist, indicating in her direction.

“No one… Living or dead,” she says coldly, but answer a follow-up question before it had the chance to materialize.

Mira pushes herself up from the counter and begins to take steps towards where Anthony is sitting, placing one bare foot in front of the other in deliberate slowness, walking in a B-line of alternating footfalls. Her body sways in a hypnotizing manner, the shape of her figure growing to fill her pet man’s vision as she arrives directly before him.

Anthony doesn’t rise, and he takes a deep breath steeling himself rigid, not wanting to move. He’s been trying to get used to Mira’s looming presence, as absolutely terrifying as it is. The man is somewhat more comfortable right now, he feels as though the current day’s hardest events are over with. Anthony feels like the last half hour or so has been aftercare of sorts, and as such, he feels less in immediate danger.

The girl looms overhead for only a breath, and then slowly squats down from above his small outline, placing a hand on one knee as she keeps her right hand empty. The demonette’s free set of fingers isn’t unoccupied long, as she keeps eye contact her favorite little human, she unfurls her index pointer and moves it over to his head.

Anthony doesn’t recoil, Mira has a small upward curve of her lips on her face, and she’s being notably gentle thus far. Even though her body, black and white colored garments and nails clean and flawless, fills completely his vision with its massive size, he doesn’t feel afraid, though he’s always going to be nervous around her.

Mira’s fingertip carefully stops beneath her friend’s chin and raises it a fraction, the exact amount of pressure to do so employed so that he can look at her face as it watches him closely.

She whispers to him, a genuine sound of affection coming from her vocal cords.

“You’re the only one I’ve done a lot of things with…”

The fingertip comes up and lightly caresses his left cheek and the side of his minuscule head, the ridges of her skin feel pleasant, despite the astonishing power the body they cover has at its disposal, and Anthony’s eyes close of their own accord with sensory pleasure.

The dime-sized man exhales, bringing up his own left hand and placing it against Mira’s warm finger. He rubs his face against her fingerprint now, as a feline or a dog would when pleased by it's master’s touch, wanting ever more like a lover to embrace her whenever possible.

His eyes come open again…a second before he finds hers had been closed as well.

Mira chuckles and is still wearing the smile she had been moments before, now, however, sporting a glistening full set of teeth. A true, glorious look at her happiest light, and how bright a sight it can really be.

She taps his head lightly and pulls away, standing back up, the floor groaning against the building pressure of the titanic woman and her shifting mass. The muscles in the huge woman’s legs stretch and flex, hoisting her back up and away, turning her body as she heads back to the sink. She says out to him as she heads back to her final set of dishes to be washed,

 “Send me one more. After that, I should be done and we can go to bed.”

Anthony takes a deep breath and shifts his body nervously as he remembers his phone is still in his hand, a bit of the world about skipped a beat during that last interaction. As he does so, he swears to whatever gods there may be that he would do anything for more of everything that just transpired. The man practically dreamt of a time where such a thing would one day be theirs to share for more than just the precious moments here and there.

Anthony sighed next, resigning his final choice to Mira’s control for the submission of his next, most obscene addition to the fun music game they were playing yet.

Life was about risks, every day with Mira was filled with them. Every chance he had to advance himself he had taken with hesitation, or in the least he felt, with anxiety. Now would be the end of that. It was time he stopped trying to hold back so much, his demon friend certainly had been doing just that, and it had really created the foundation of who the couple were as a whole.

Anthony punched the combination password into his touch screen and the song was already there before his eyes, the dark entity had seen to that. The young man glanced up one last time without moving his head up, taking a last look at Mira in this blissfully relaxed state.

“Screw it,” he said to himself, and clicked the sideways angled blue arrow key, firing away the copied link to the track he’d grabbed.

[Play (Flume - Say It feat. Tove Lo (Illenium Remix)]

He could see that Mira had gotten it, then, as his heart skipped a beat, he watched her tap the screen as if nothing out of the ordinary was contained within the message.

Anthony slid his lower back forward and pulled in one of his legs, placing his left wrist on his raised knee and tilting his head back until it touched the wall, resting against the cool surface. His phone was in his opposite hand, but he placed it onto the floor, fully intent on watching every second of the demon girl’s coming reaction, no matter what it would be, without any distractions.

She swung her hips lightly as she had before during all the other songs, smiling a little and still washing dishes as the song played. It shared the genre that the previous music tracks had, it was basically dubstep, female vocals, and a bouncy, poppy type of beat. This one though, had a point near the beginning of the song where it basically proposed sexual intercourse out of the blue, and Mira had yet to reach that specific lyric evidently, either that or she hadn’t reacted to it-

She stopped suddenly; it was about a minute into the song Anthony figured by his best guess as he watched her freeze in an instant. The girl must have encountered that pivotal line, that was the only way to explain her apparent surprise. Then, to the young man’s rising elation, she chuckled a little louder than usual, and began to smile with her eyes closed as she shook her head as if in disbelief.

The woman like a towering goddess plopped to this desolate white plane, turned and deviously grinned at Anthony as he sat relaxed on the floor, not concerned in any way. The two made eye contact, and the tiny man knew exactly why she was gazing over at him with a look that made him feel like a mouse would to a playful cat.

Anthony shrugged and smiled dismissively as if to say, “…what?” and Mira stood up straighter, flicking her hands free of soapy suds and water, wiping them on a nearby towel before putting her phone in her pocket and stepping away from the sink, walking for the far side of her kitchen.

She approached without that deliberate slowness she had employed earlier, as if now, she wasn’t playing around anymore, or, more worryingly, as if she was displeased with the song now playing in her earbuds. She came to halt before Anthony again, he himself having difficulty maintaining equal measure with her stare as she looked down at him.

The demonette rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, something the small man was at first unsure of how to interpret, but in the next second, she turned about and faced the other way, sliding both of her hands beneath her hair to unfurl it across her back. She kept her hands near her head, and then, to a degree of surprised that paralyzed his poor male mind, Mira began to slowly dance above him, her firm lower body shifting and undulating with the song’s beats and bass flare-ups. Anthony swallowed a lump of disbelief as his eyes widened in complete and utter captivation, the absolute bombshell of a body the girl was bestowed tantalizing his every visual sense as it moved in relative silence. The shifting of the woman’s titanic feet and the slight grinding of dirt beneath her soles, as well as the light noise her outfit made as it strained with her figure only added the display, subtly contributing to the private waltz.

Then, things got a little more serious…

Mira’s hands left her head and slid gradually down her torso, brushing with little resistance the sides of her large, rounded breasts, but passing them without stopping as they reached her hips, resting there as the song continued on and Anthony stared without looking away. He couldn’t now, he knew it. She knew it.

“This song is way too short…” The colossal vixen says as she glances over her shoulder and says looking down to the transfixed gaze of her lone audience member. Her body is her instrument, as she charms his soul to a state, not unlike a waking coma.

The young man clears his throat, it takes all his effort to speak, but he manages to, not only to his own surprise, but Mira’s as well.

“Yeah…Its…One of my favorites though, still…”

Mira exhales sensually, as if Anthony has said some kind of trigger word or made a type of signal with his reply. She practically moans down to him,

“You’re my favorite…You know that? My adorable little knight in shining armor. You were willing to stand up for me… willing to fight for me… You even tried to get me to run when you thought I could get hurt, as if there were ever a need.”

Anthony squeezes his eyes shut for a half second, attempting to focus as he constructs a meaningful response. He shakes his head to try and break free of the powerful, feminine spell for just a bit, to voice what’s really on his mind.

“I just treat you the way I think you deserve to be treated. That’s all…You’re…”

He stops before uttering another syllable. Mira bent her knees as her butt swelled fuller for a half-instant and Anthony had to use every ounce of restraint he had to keep himself from succumbing to baser urges.

Though his sudden silence isn’t completely due to the alluring dance, or his inability to speak, quite the opposite really, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but he’s suddenly anxious to his core.

Anthony breaths deep and finds Mira’s eyes as he tries to look past the teasing form of her body’s most enticing assets.

“You’re special to me, like no one has ever been before.”

Stillness comes to the air as the girl high above turns a faint shade of red near her cheeks, her body coming to an abrupt halt at the sound of his voice wrapping around her mind.

The huge, inhuman woman blinks and turns slowly around once again to face him, what passes seems like an hour, or maybe a day. Time seems to stop, or slow to such a crawl that the notice of its very motion is distorted, and unclear.

Mira takes a deep breath as her chest rises and then forces out her lungs full of oxygen, a sound like total relief coming out along with it as it drifts from her lips and nose.

This isn’t a test he’s passed just now, it’s something much more to her.

The girl nibbles on her lower lip and bends down quickly, without warning, snatching up Anthony from the floor, the boy not flinching or shying away, though he is clearly surprised.

“You get over here, right this second,” she says as her log-like fingers scoop him into her fist, which to him is like a massive room made of soft skin and muscle. The tiny human manages to wiggle upwards and poke his head out with a little push from Mira’s pinky, as she coos down to him with a wide grin.

“You’re coming with me…”