It was a dark and stormy night, and Mary Sue was creeping through the ruins of the glass house. Her waist-length hair was the color of wheat in the summer sun, with just the slightest curl to it. Her eyes were aquamarine starbursts. She had a body that any runway model would die for, and a face so lovely that angels wept to behold her, but of course she was also terribly modest, and for the life of her could not understand why boys (and the occasional small, furry woodland creature) stared at her like a starving man stares at a big piece of prime rib.

Oh, and strains of beautiful music played in her wake. Why the hell not?

Being as it was a dark and stormy night, her sun-kissed golden hair, which swirled around her lithe body enticingly, should have been plastered to the lily-pale skin of her scalp in a most unappealing way. Her designer clothing should have been soggy and uncomfortable, not to mention chafing. But even the rain loved the beautiful Mary Sue, so is carefully fell around her, so as not to muss her exquisite appearance. Which was of course achieved effortlessly, without any real work on her part, in spite of the fact that she looked like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

Character development? Well, okay.

She was nice and sweet. She never did anything wrong. She had an IQ of forty-four bazillion, although she apparently wasn't inclined to use any of those amazing brain cells of hers, since she was wandering around a ruined building late at night in the rain. No, I don't know why. Does it matter? DON'T CRITICIZE MY WORK! I DON'T WANT TO BE AN AUTHOR! THIS IS JUST FOR FUN! NO FLAMES! YOU SHOULD SIT THROUGH MY DREADFULLY PAINFUL FIC AND LIKE IT!

In any case, Mary Sue quickly made her way to the basement, muttering something terribly witty about petting zoos as she walked down the stairs. Her steps were quick and graceful, and she seemed to float above the debris. Her eyes, the same sparkling green-blue as the sea, seemed to darken as she looked around in wonder at the destruction around her.

She thought she heard a noise behind her, and turned around. There, before her, was a man in a straitjacket, with a cage around his head. She could see him even without the glasses, because... she had wonderful psychic powers! Mary Sue was an even more powerful psychic than Dennis had been, except she didn't have those nasty headaches. Because bleeding out of her ears every time she had a vision would have made her not so pretty!

Anyways, the man with the cage around his head was just incredibly handsome and sexy. Mary Sue just had a thing for that pasty-skinned, crazy-eyed, fingernails-like-butter-knives look. Her beautiful heart went pitter-pat. Her hair swirled around her. Beautifully.

"Oh. You're a ghost."

Ryan Kuhn, the Jackal, the Charles Manson of ghosts, stood there and gnashed his teeth. He thought that he might have a bit of the last toddler he had eaten stuck between his incisors.

Mary Sue's lovely eyes grew limpid with unshed tears. "Oh, you poor man. It must be so painful, being stuck in that cage. You're not evil, you're just misunderstood! I understand you! I love you!"

For a long moment, the Jackal looked at her. Slowly, his eyes focused on the woman in front of him. His claw-like hands unclenched, and his jaw relaxed as he realized what a sweet, giving soul stood before him. She saw past the horrific, puppy-kicking monster with the bad personal hygiene! She was unbothered by the thought of becoming a necrophiliac! She loved him!

So then he ate her face off.

The End.

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Author's Note: This story is a direct result of the fact that I get a little squicked out when someone has a passionate love affair with one of the horribly grotesque, violent and in some cases downright evil dead people who populate the 13 Ghosts 'verse. Call me shallow, but I like a guy to have both sides of his face before I start exchanging kissies with him.