By the time sunlight started to seep through the blinds, he had already risen from the bed as graceful as a cat. Or perhaps tiger was the better term. In the light I saw that his entire back was tattooed to look like the backside of a skeleton, each rib thickly outlined in black.
Noticing my stare, he turned and gave me a questioning grin; canines gleaming. "Yes?"
"I was just wondering about the tattoo. I like it," I said.
"Good," he replied simply, zipping up his jeans and pulling on his sweatshirt. "See you around..."
As he opened the door I sat up, unable to just let this end. "Wait," I said. "Don't you even want to know my name?"
Without turning he replied, "No. If you told me, I could eat your soul."
"Oh really?" I laughed. "Why's that?"
" Because I'm the Bone-Keeper my dear," he chuckled, closing the door and shutting out sound.
A small chill ran up my spine and left me with goose bumps. "I certainly pick the odd ones," I thought to myself as I got up and slipped on a robe. "Very odd..."
Work was dull and I couldn't focus. His words kept running up my spine like a dangerous caress. "Because I'm the Bone-Keeper my dear.." he had said.
Some people are just imaginative, I guess. Made things more interesting. By the time I got off work, I was fidgeting like a mad woman. Why? He never said he wanted to see me again, but I was hopeful.
Yesterday I had bumped into him while walking home, and he took me out to dinner. He was tall and dark and strangely mysterious. That's what everyone wants, isn't it? And he had been polite too. Still, something about him seemed a little off. I'd figure it out; if I saw him again that is.
After getting back up to my apartment, I took a shower and slipped on my robe to go watch the evening news. Before I had gotten to the couch, a voice startled me. "And how are you today, my dear?" asked Mr. Bone-Keeper himself from his position on my couch.
"Great, now," I said, tilting my head to the side. "How'd you sneak in here, anyway?"
"Oh, magic," he smiled.
"Of course," I replied, and sat down next to him on the couch.
Silently, he pulled to him and kissed me. He tasted like wood and smoke, but it was intoxicating. Moaning as his hands trailed my skin, he pulled us onto the floor. As we fumbled off our clothes the phone rang, but he pinned me down. "You can always call back..." he whispered, kissing my neck.
The answering machine clicked on. "Hey Chrissy, just seeing if you were free tonight. Call me back if you are! Bye!"
Then the machine clicked off and I noticed he had froze above me. "What's the matter?" I asked.
He didn't answer. Instead he resumed kissing my neck and then trailing lower, As he shrugged off his pants I realized how sleepy I felt suddenly. Why was my head so foggy? My thoughts were lost in the thrusts and moans, but when he finished and got up I realized I couldn't even move. Why did I feel so weak and tired? "I'm sorry dear," he spoke sadly to me. "But I warned you. I told you I was the Bone-Keeper."
His words faded with my vision and the world went black. I had met the Bone-Keeper.
FIN