I wore only my underwear and didn’t bother to put any clothes on.
Naked, I went downstairs. My car was a couple feet ahead of my roommate’s, leaving me just enough room to stand in front of their vehicle, nipples hard in the night air. I gave them the friendliest smile I could muster.
They stopped honking and stared at me.
A minute of silence passed. They leaned out their window, a look of terror so plain on their face, it made me warm between my legs.
“Wh-what’s wrong with your eyes?” she said.
My eyes? I looked into their windshield. Though it was night, I could see perfectly how pitch black my eyes were. Completely swallowed by darkness. I looked down at my hands and saw something moved just underneath the skin of my arms.
Apparently, my roommate also saw because they began to scream and honk again, this time, out of terror.
I hopped up several feet, right off the ground. It took no effort to jump onto the hood of their car. The metal should have felt cold, but it wasn’t. I got down on my hands and knees, looked at them through the glass and plunged my fist right through it.
It cut me and blood sprayed the dashboard, but these cuts healed so quickly, I could barely register the injury.
And then something odd happened. I reached for my hysterical roommate and my arm began to feel weird. It tingled and buzzed, as if it were falling asleep and then I watched as it split open and transformed into several black tendrils.
My roommate let out incoherent shrieks and tried to get away but she had buckled herself up and forgot. I let out a laugh of pure joy that I didn’t recognize. When had I ever been so happy and felt such joy? Surely not while living with her.
The black tendrils took hold of my housemate and dragged them forward. I thought the seat beat would stop me but I was too strong. I pulled them slow but hard—hard enough that the seat beat snapped and broke.
I didn’t stop though.
I dragged them forward and into the broken windshield. They laid on the horn with their body, making it sound out in one long, shrill noise. Their face pressed against the glass, smushed like some fifth-grade class clown trying to get a laugh out of everyone.
Yet I kept pulling. I pulled them into the glass until it slowly cracked and shattered all over their face. I jerked them through the broken glass, letting it cut and tear into their face and neck.
They screamed something terrible and I screamed with them till my screams turned to laughter that mocked their pain. Whatever was inside me squirmed and filled me with orgasmic warmth as I used the broken glass to cleave open their neck.
The neighbor’s dogs were barking now. A shame. People probably heard the cries.
I released my roommate and she slumped over the windshield. She reminded me of a car wreck victim. I smiled again and the creature inside me let me know it was possible. We could cover this up. It didn’t talk, I just knew. It loved mayhem. It craved the pain and death of others.
“I’m not a doormat. I’m sick of your shit,” I said to my crimson coated roommate. “In fact, I’m sick of a lot of things…”
I squirmed inside again and felt absolutely powerful. I could make a difference. I could change the world. No one had to suffer under the boot of anyone else. I had power.
Was this coincidence?
No…this had to be Fate.