TITLE: The Stolen Karma Of Nathaniel Valentine
The woman straddled him, her dark hair hanging down on either side of her face, tickling his cheeks. She was almost pretty when she smiled, with her full lips and flushed cheeks, but the effect was spoiled by the hunger in her eyes. It reminded him that she was a monster, and that he was about to die.
She leaned forward and kissed him. Nathaniel struggled against her, but the press of her body and lips was too much, like being buried beneath an avalanche, and he gave in. He was flat on his back, cocooned to the floor of his bedroom by spider silk. Her fingers danced above him like a pianist’s as she kissed him, spinning more threads, enshrouding him andcovering his head. He had dreamed about his first kiss thousands of times: this was not how he'd imagined it.
She pulled back suddenly, their lips coming apart with a smack. He gasped in surprise and the sugary flavor of her cherry lip gloss vanished, replaced by the bitter taste of web as she gagged him, smothered his mouth and nose. He was bound head to toe now, tight, claustrophobic, and he fought against the woman, tried to buck her off. She stayed put, looked down at him hungrily, then laughed and ran a delicate finger over the line of his brow. He flinched, tried to scream and couldn’t.
“You look good enough to eat,” she purred. Then she winked.
This was seriously his worst birthday ever.