New Years. The day of turning over a new leaf. Starting over. On that day, December 31st, I was at a party, with this absolutely gorgeous woman I was sure I would be taking home. People dressed in white and black and gold milled about while syrupy jazz played on low in the background. My brown hair was perfectly tousled, my teeth were whitened to blinding brightness, and the champagne was older than my parents. Everything was perfect. Well, until it wasn’t.

The woman I wanted to take home had unofficially made herself my plus one, hanging onto my left arm like we were the perfect couple. In truth, we’d never see each other again after this party. It was a shame really. Her laughter was like bells ringing through a quiet night, and her gold, skin tight dress was further highlighted with the pocket napkin and buttons in my black three piece. I glanced at the clock on the screen, which was counting down to midnight. Two hours. I took that moment to give Jessica a quick peck on the cheek and hustled to the washroom, taking my time. When I exited, I felt dizzy. I gripped the door, my knuckles whitening as I closed my eyes. My head was pounding, I could hear my heartbeat and the blood gushing in my ears. As quickly as it came, the pounding passed, leaving me very dazed and confused.

Shaking it off, I stretched my mouth into a smile and joined my plus one again, who was talking to an elderly couple that must’ve spent all their retirement savings for two tickets to this party. My charm, however, was enough to have them (figuratively) kissing my feet. They started talking about what a “cute couple” we were and how we were “lucky to have each other”. Potash, or whatever the old folk say. We bid them farewell and continued to mill about. Talking here and talking there and talking some more with that old couple that I had charmed a little too much.

My phone buzzed in my pocket as they were talking about honeymoons. Pulling it out, I motioned that I had to take this and began walking away, taking a seat on the balcony. The city lights stretched out before me, shining as bright as stars would. My assistant’s voice came through the speakers. She rambled on about extra appointments for the following week, but through the speakers another voice whispers in my ear. Telling me that I need to find them. I scream at my assistant, who takes on a confused tone. I shrug it off, telling her to continue while pondering the voice. My assistant finishes her updates, and tells me she’s clocking out. Thanking her, I’m about to hang up when I hear her scream. There’s a scuffle on the other side, followed by a loud squelch. That whispery voice comes on the line again, this time demanding me to find it. It’s loud, screaming, leaving my ears ringing so painfully. It ceases, followed by the phone beeping, signalling the call ended. It left me thinking it was a prank, it wasn’t natural. Still, I was worried, and my assistant was close enough to me to be considered family. When I got back to the party, I gathered my coat at the coat room and walked out, leaving my plus one alone at the party.

The snow crunched underfoot, lights glistening on puddles patching the pavement as I walked to my equally shiny black sedan. The interior lit up as I opened the door. I was out of the parking lot before the car had a chance to warm up. I was nervous the whole way to the offices, a pounding headache forming as I got closer. By the time I was walking to the elevator, I was stumbling like a drunken idiot. The elevator doors closed behind me, and I laid my sweaty forehead against the cool metal walls. It felt good, grounding me for what I had to face. That squelching noise I heard on the phone was playing on loop in my head. It took forever for the elevator to make its crawl up the building, and I was just about to loose my patience when it dinged, and the doors slid open to reveal the waiting area before my office. It was clean. Too clean. My assistant wasn’t at her desk, but the receiver for her phone was hanging by the cable, brushing the floor on the opposite side of the seat.

Taking deep breaths, I opened the heavy wooden doors to my office. Ah. There was the mess I was expecting. I could feel the alcohol making its way through my body, just the wrong way. I leaned over a trashcan and threw up the alcohol I had drunk at the party (and maybe a bit from before the party). My assistant was scattered through the room, her blood staining the carpets an unwelcoming shade of crimson. An arm there, spilled guts there, and her head mounted too perfectly on my desk. I took a few wary steps towards it, looking around. How would I know that the person that did this wasn’t still here, lurking in the shadows, waiting for their time to do the same thing to me? My assistant’s blood dripped onto the carpet from the desk, her eyes were rolled up and back, and her mouth was opened in a silent scream. Oh God. I wanted to throw up again but I wasn’t entirely sure if there was anything left to send up. A heavy, metallic scent forced itself into my nostrils. There was an undertone of something else, though. Like rotting.

Abruptly, I spun to face a beast. A literal beast. Something from the depths of Tartarus and who knows where else. Dark grey fur was shedding in thick patches, revealing mottled, pale skin. The teeth were sharper than a shark’s, a lion’s, a dragon’s, and the claws on it’s three fingered hands equally, if not, sharper, than the teeth. It growled and reached out faster than I could process, claws wrapping around my neck and throwing me into the doors. As I tried to recover the air knocked out of my lungs, it shoved me against the wall once more, and I felt a sudden burst of pain in my torso. Someone was screaming, and then it hit me that it was me that was screaming.

The beast’s face was buried into my stomach, wet squelching noises echoing through the room while blood streamed down my legs and the beast’s chin. Fireworks set off near the building, bathing the room in pinks and yellows and blues. My limbs turned to lead and my consciousness slipped. It drifted to a far away place where I couldn’t reach, despite still feeling the pain. Until finally, I caught it, and the pain went away, and I wake up sweating in my bed. I pat myself, making sure every part of me is still there. They are. I’m intact, whole. There are no blood or guts, just smooth skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. The sheets are tangled around my legs and my plus one from the night before is next to me, faced away, curled in on herself. Breathing a sigh of relief, I wrap my arm around my plus one’s waist. But it feels wrong. Her abdomen is wet and sticky, and there’s something squishy and thick on her skin.

The sight I see horrifies me. She isn’t sleeping, she’s dead, her abdomen torn open to reveal the intestines that I thought was her skin. Her face is frozen in a state of shock and fear, mouth parted and eyes open wide. Everything in me freezes. It looks just like my nightmare. And there’s something behind me, breathing into my ear as I stare blankly at her body. As I turn, my eyes fix upon the monster, risen from my dreams. It says three sentences that make my gut drop.

“You found me. You released me. I am here.”