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Jobs were a pain sometimes. That was a fact of life, but your recent job took the cake. The man called 404 stood in front of you, his eyes dilated with joy as he listed off all the facts about you that he thought made you “his ultra lovable Superstar”. It might have been charming if most of them were not personal facts gleaned through shady hacker methods. That, and if he didn't clutch his axe with deadly anticipation, ready to swing at any moment.
The whole thing unsettled you, the high-strung–and clearly mentally unhinged–man ready to carve you up like a Halloween pumpkin whenever his emotions became too strong for his brain to process. He “just gets excited” is what he said. As if most people who got excited took to murder instead of other less bloody ways to expel their extra energy. Still, the biggest fear came when he'd said he'd love to kiss you like your story's love interest, whom he insisted was obviously based on him.
The wish itself didn't scare you, or at least not as much as the unclear, half worded admittance that came after about how he didn't want to lose control and hurt you. “Is there no way to stop from getting too excited?” you asked without hesitation, unsure why you did since it's not like you wanted to kiss him.
At least, you didn't think you did, but your brain short-circuited a bit as you thought about it. You eyed him up and down while he replied with more unclear statements that didn't quite add clarity to the situation. He was fit. You'd give him that, though it was hard to see the details under his baggy black and red clothes. His face was also obscured, but the occasional flash of sharp teeth did something to your body that made you question if you'd belonged on a certain monster loving side of Dumblr.
“–and that's why I really want to kiss you, but can't. You're my Superstar. I can't live without you,” he said, having finished off a ramble you barely paid any attention to.
“What if I…” you began, your mind in turmoil as you struggled to process your misplaced lustful thoughts. “Teach you how to ground?”
“Oh, my Superstar is so smart! That's part of why I love you so much!” he said, his axe shaky in his trembling hands. “But I don't like philosophy.”
“It's not philosophy. It's psychology, and if what I have in mind works, maybe I gift my biggest fan that kiss he wants,” you explained, a bit hesitant to follow through due to your conflicted emotions.
“Do you think it will work? Can I really kiss you?! I don't want… I don't want you to go. You're my reason for living. I love you!”
You nodded. “Yeah, it could work. But if it does… Will you leave your room?”
His happiness deflated at that, his stalker fantasy likely tainted by the realization you wanted to bribe him. Fortunately, he was quick to rebound and wiped the gloom off his face, which you could barely see to begin with. Apparently, his fantasies were hard to kill, and that would potentially work in your favor.
“Ok! If I get to kiss my Superstar, then that will be even better than everything in this room! I'll never wash my lips again!!!”
“Oh, ah, great…” you mumbled, your face red from the realization you were actually going to go through with it. “So let's start with listing five things you can see.”
His response was automatic as he looked around at all the junk plastered to his walls. “That's easy! The selfie of you with your friends at a diner, the Maps Image of your house, the print-out of your last post, another post you made that's my favorite, and a copy of your birth certificate.”
“Uh, good,” you said, both terrified and impressed by just how obsessed he was with you. “Now name four things you can feel.”
“I feel my love for you,” he began, once again a victim to the compulsion to hold his axe in a death grip due to his overwhelmed emotional state. “I feel my axe, my happiness you're here, and the pain over the betrayal when you stopped writing.”
You nodded, unsure if that was how you were meant to do that part. “Ok, now how about three things you hear?”
That one seemed even harder for him, and he pinned you under his gaze as he analyzed you. “I hear your breathing and your heart. That's two things, but if you take into consideration how much I love you, it's like we share a heart. So then it's actually three things.”
You avoided the urge to argue against his logic, or his math, and continued. “G… good. What about two things you can smell?”
His eyes took on a crescent shape which made it seem like he was gazing at you with genuine affection. “I smell your shampoo, and also your laundry detergent. I'm not a fan of it over your natural scent, but I'm just so happy I get to smell you! I tried having something of yours delivered here, but I couldn't find anyone to do it.”
As he thought more about your scent, his excitement increased, and you wondered if the exercise was more detrimental to you both than beneficial. Even so, his breathing came out slightly less ragged than before, and the clutch on his axe stayed consistent. He'd yet to swing it, so you were somewhat confident you could get through the exercise in one piece. There was only one part left.
You gathered up your courage and inched closer, a faux smile on your face. “The last step is to name one thing you taste. May I?”
His eyes widened, and he forced himself to stand still as you gently placed your right hand over the hard, smooth handle of his axe and lifted your left hand to cup his cheek. You gave him a moment to collect himself, which he did even without being prompted, then went in for the kiss. It was weird at first, your brain scrambled by the absolute madness of your actions, combined with the fear, shame, and unexpected desire you felt. It wasn't like you wanted to kiss him, and yet in some messed up way, you kind of did. Maybe you belonged in there with him after all, because something was obviously also very wrong with you as a person.
To your relief, all thoughts of having to check yourself into grippy sock prison vanished when 404 let the axe hang loose in one hand to pull you closer with the other. The lean muscles underneath his body flexed, and you wanted to know what he looked like. Would he be grotesque and horrifying? Or would he be stereotypically handsome despite being a monster? Did it even matter considering you'd agreed to kiss him without knowing?
No, perhaps it didn't.
You deepened the kiss, and he opened his mouth so you could slip your tongue inside. It mingled with his, which tasted like palmiers. You'd convinced Sir Knight to let you try some earlier that day, and you quite enjoyed them. The taste of the delicious treats mingled together with the slimy yet firm texture of 404’s tongue were intoxicating, and you couldn't resist your impulse to give his sharp, inhuman teeth a lick. The palmiers were replaced by a metallic tang when you did so, and a shiver went up your spine when 404 lapped at the cut as if your blood was an even greater delicacy than the baked goods he'd eaten earlier.
The both of you shook with repressed lust, and you'd momentarily lost yourself in the feeling until he pushed you away and turned around so you couldn't see his face. “If we continue I'll get too excited, and if I get too excited…”
He didn't need to finish his sentence for you to understand. “Ah, sorry.”
“No!” he yelled as he swung back around to face you. “Don’t be sorry. I got to kiss you! My… My Superstar! I finally got to kiss you, and I didn't… You're still here and I got to kiss you! This is the best. I could die now and I'd be so happy!”
“Uh, how about not dying,” you said with an awkward laugh. “I only need you to vacate the room, not die.”
He nodded enthusiastically, still too caught up in the high of getting to kiss you to be offended by your insistence he leave. “Right. I'll leave now! I'll see you outside!”
You shook your head in amusement at the statement. He'd most likely wait for you outside like a puppy. A part of you dreaded that second meeting, since you weren't sure if you'd be allowed to go home, or if he'd kidnap you and keep you locked up in some Stockholm Syndrome situation. It wasn't something you could worry about so early in the game, though, so you did what you had to and moved on to the next room.
Blue Room 002