Happy Birthday, Jules. I hope this is fucked up enough to suit your taste.

Kongpob was halfway through putting together a different pirate ensemble when he saw him. A flash of dark eyes in the corner of the room, hidden inside winter coats. Kong put down the hat he held and walked forward with a curious smile on his face. There was a ruffle of coats and then a long, low laugh.

Kong shuddered. The room seemed to get hotter in that instant. He fidgeted with the hoodie he wore, eventually taking it off and placing it over his arm. The laugh sounded again, sonorous and rich like mahogany. Kongpob looked up, expecting to see Arthit standing in front of him. It was the kind of laugh he had on the phone or after a successful meeting. The kind of chuckle that let people know that he was in charge, that any and all attempts to stop him were nothing but a joke. But Kong saw no one around him. Not Arthit, not even a stranger inside the thrift store. The woman in pink was gone from the window. It now seemed even darker inside the store, and coupled with the sudden heat, Kong felt his brow sweat. The laugh sounded again.

This had to be Arthit. There was no question about it now, even if he couldn't see his familiar body. Kong had said on Facebook that he was going out today to look for a costume. In the past, Arthit had seen his Facebook updates and followed him out to the same restaurant to meet up. This type of behavior wasn't out of the ordinary for him. But there was a prickled feeling to the back of Kong's neck that let him know that nothing about this situation was familiar in any way. There was another flash of eyes as he crossed the room.

"Arthit?"

No response. Kongpob picked up his phone. The only people who had liked his status had been Em and his mother. Right. He really needed to remove his mom from Facebook. No one else he knew seemed to be on Facebook that afternoon. He hovered over Arthit's status online, but no green dot said he was there. Not even his mobile status came up. Kong raised his eyes to the thrift store again, but saw nothing. The clouds parted and the sun came out. Whatever tricks his mind had been playing on him had stopped. For now.

Kong grabbed the pirate costume he had before, including the hat. He walked to the front and found the old man behind the counter, dozing in his seat. He tapped on the glass to gently wake him up. He startled, knocking his book down from his chest. As it fell to the floor, Kong noted the thin, onion-skin pages. The old man had been reading The Bible.

"Sorry, I nod off here and there," the old man apologized. "Can I get that for you?"

"I was actually wondering where the dressing rooms are."

"Ah," the man said. He extended a long, wrinkled finger to the back of the room. Red booths seemed to appear out of nowhere and lined the back. There was nothing but a thick piece of red curtain, velvety and dusty, that separated the booths from the rest of the store. All three were unoccupied.

"Thank you," Kong stated. "Do I need to take numbers at all? Like for department stores?"

The old man waved a hand. "Nah, it's the honor system here. But if you steal from us, I'd say good riddance."

Kong nodded. "I won't. But thanks."

Once at the back, Kong parted the red curtains. He felt vaguely like Moses and the red sea. Em's been talking too much, Kong thought. I'm getting too many big ideas. Em would probably love the campy appeal that the dressing rooms had. Kong felt like a stage veteran as he backed into the booth, but also like a porn star. He glanced around at the shop one more time, to see if he could spot the manager. The old man seemed to have nodded off again, leaning back in his chair, and completely out of sight. No one else was around. Not even his own Beatrice (or Bart) to haunt Kong. He closed the curtain and began to undress.

The blouse for the pirate costume fit him, but it was a bit much. The frills around the neck spilled down for most of the shirt, causing the off-white color of the shirt to make his skin look even pastier. Nah, this is going to have to go. If he couldn't take himself seriously in the costume, then Arthit's friends definitely wouldn't either. Maybe, if he found a new toned-down shirt and added goggles to the mix, he could turn this costume into a steampunk thing. That's hip now, right? Everyone seemed to be into steampunk costumes and having steampunk themed weddings. But Arthit's coworkers would probably think Kong was a small child who followed fads. But really, Kong's inner voice cut in again, who cares? It's Halloween. The one time of year where anyone could be whatever they wanted without judgement. It was one night and one indiscretion wouldn't kill the relationship. And it wasn't like Arthit didn't have his own faults.

Kongpob sighed. He liked Arthit, he really did. But there was an evident strain on their relationship after the sex endorphins dissipated, a clear power imbalance. Kong felt as if he would walk on nails to get to Arthit sometimes, but Arthit couldn't be bothered with rush hour traffic in order to see him. Kong would ow down at Arthit's feet and submit to him completely, all without batting an eye. But what did he get in return? Arthit had an amazing body - sure. He paid for most of their dates and took him out to fancy locations. But Kong didn't need five star restaurants and hotels that were too expensive just to fuck in. And, Kong reminded himself, I have a good body too.

As Kongpob slipped off the poofy shirt, he admired his abs in the mirror. His chest was hairless, save for a few curls that lead down to his pubic region. He flexed in the mirror, and then made his own biceps bulge proudly. He had to admit - he still often thought of himself as unattractive. Even when Em insisted that he was getting stares now, just out in public, Kong couldn't believe him. That was just not who he was. But as he looked in the mirror now, he saw it. Maybe for the first time, Kong knew he was attractive. He could turn men's heads if he wanted to and get whatever he wanted from them. Well, he could if he wasn't so hung up on Arthit. If he thought long and hard, Kong knew that he wanted more from Arthit. More than what they had right now, at least.

But now, Kongpob chastised himself, was not the time to think about this. He grabbed another shirt from the aisle and walked back into the booth. As he switched outfits, he felt a sudden chill - as if the air conditioning had been turned on again and cranked right above his head. He paused, his fingers on the buttons that had turned as cold as stone. He swallowed hard as he thought he heard the sudden flutter of breath. He glanced behind him, but found nothing. He peered out of the red curtains, and again, saw nothing.

"I'm losing it," he murmured.

Then he heard the muttering. A whispered voice - no, thousands of whispered voices. Kong glanced down the aisles, at the clothing hangers, and shuddered. It was as if each sweater and suit were speaking aloud, like a ghost narrating its former life. The sounds of whispered voices were like everything inside purgatory begging for another chance. As if Em had been completely right about clothing and lost souls.

No. Kong shook his head and closed the curtains of the dressing room. There is nothing remotely supernatural here. And now I'm going to get a doctor's outfit from the drugstore and leave before Em gets back. Fuck the thrift store. This is totally not needed.

Kongpob redressed in his normal clothing. As he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he saw the same eyes as before. Dark, round, as if the entire white had been eclipsed by night. His heart stopped. He didn't look away. The eyes were there - definitely there this time. It was almost as if they had blended into the back of the curtains and were disembodied overhead. Kong didn't know what to do. How did you fight eyes? How did you get away from something that appears to have no real body or origin point? And if Kong talked, trying to reason with this strange embodiment, would they even hear him? The dark eyes definitely saw him. As he shifted on his feet, the dark dots followed his movement.

Soon, Kong saw the curtains move. The red drapes folded until they formed the outline of a body. The red velvet became tense, like leather, as a man emerged. Red skin, his dark eyes beady in the center of his head. Hair emerged, dark hair atop his head where the bar for the change room had been. A mouth, too, was now visible as the figure smiled. A man had walked out of the wall, as if he was a painting come to life, and this close, Kong saw him as the devil.

"How? Are you..."

"Yes," the man said. He smiled, revealing sharp yellowed teeth. He was taller than Kong by at least a foot. Kong didn't dare look directly at him for very long, even inside the mirror. Wouldn't I be blinded if I did? Or is that just for angels? Kong thought in a panicked breath. But the devil was an angel - a fallen one - wasn't he? He was the morning star, the one who was so devoted to God he would not serve humans. And he was punished for that. All of Kong's catholic knowledge came back to him and was then supplemented by popular culture. He felt his bones quake inside his skin. When he sneezed at the sudden dust in the room, he was surprised to hear the devil speak again.

"Bless you."

"Really?" Kong said. The sudden break of character, the devil's hackneyed smile, made Kong turn around and look at him in the flesh, instead of relying on the mirrored reflection. "Really? You just said bless you."

"I thought it would ruin the mood if I didn't. It's a common cultural thing here."

Kong rolled his eyes - and then he realized he could still see. Looking at the devil hadn't caused him any harm and now he could continue without worrying. And away from the mirror, the devil didn't look half bad. His red skin had to be more of a body paint, Kong figured. He could see the paler color near his waist, though the man's body was still larger than life. The aesthetic reminded Kong of the movie The Cell, where everything was rendered in bold colors that seemed to have a life of their own. He felt better, suddenly, because this couldn't be the devil. Not the real thing. This was someone just playing a Halloween trick on him.

"You're not worried."

"Why would I be?" Kong asked.

"Some people fear me."

"I don't."

"Do you believe?"

From the way he said the word believe, Kong knew this was more than a discussion about atheism. If you don't believe in God, you don't believe in the devil. The two work hand in hand. Over the years, Kong had met some people who believed in God but not the devil, because God would surely never be so cruel. And he knew of other people, like Em, who believed in Good and Evil, but not the beings who personified it. But even in all the examples of faith or the lack of it, Kong still didn't know where he fit in.

"Maybe," Kong finally answered. "But I suppose seeing is believing."

"And yet you're not convinced. Even as I stand here?"

"Come one, this is a party trick."

"Okay," the devil said. He folded his hands over his chest. The red paint - it had to be paint - didn't smudge or move. This was some movie grade magic, Kong figured. He had to hand it to whoever set this up. It was good.

Kong eyed the man's legs, cased in some kind of pants or prosthetic which made it look as if he had goat haunches and hooves. Kong let out a low whistle. "Did you get your costume here?"

"More or less."

"You look good."

"So do you." The devil smiled. In his dark eyes, Kong could feel something else. An honestly that had gone overlooked before. This man, whoever he was, wasn't lying to him. Kong felt another quiver through his body. This time, not from fear, but desire.

"What do you want?" the devil said.

"I should ask you the same thing. You're the one who barged into my dressing room."

"Ah, sorry about that. But what do they call it? I had to give you something..." The devil trailed off, his hand touching his goatee. His nails were long and black. As he shifted from side to side, Kong herd the slow clunk of a hoof. Fuck, this costume was good. But definitely a costume, he repeated to himself. They were inside a thrift store, after all. That was all it had to be.

"Trick or treat, yes?"

"What?"

"On Halloween, people as 'trick or treat?' That is what I have to ask you. From there, they are given what they really want."

Kong nodded slowly. The way the devil trilled his letters made his skin prickle again. "They are given what they want. You act as if they have a choice."

"Oh, they don't." The devil smiled again, revealing his long teeth. "Not with the right partner."

"Right partner?"

The devil nodded. He twirled his fingers through his goatee again.

Kong sighed. "Sorry to change the topic, but I'm going to have to know your name."

"My name?"

"Yes, it's getting a bit tedious calling you the devil in my mind. 'The' in front of anything is pretty pretentious, even if your costume is really well done."

"Costume," he said, a low laugh in his throat. The same laugh as before - the kind that made Kong's skin flame. "Very well then. Call me Matchitehew."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"That's a bit of a mouthful. What does it mean?"

He grinned. "One who has an evil heart."

Kongpob raised his eyebrows. His neck hurt from constantly looking up at Matchitehew. He gazed at his chest at eye level and focused between the center of his pectoral muscles. His chest was much more muscular than Kong's own. The coarse knots of dark hair against his red skin, from his large nipples down to his pubis overshadowed most of his musculature. Kong smiled. "But you do have a heart?"

"Sure."

"Well, okay then."

"Okay?" Matchitehew paused. "You seem much more certain than before."

"Yes. I'm good so long as I know you're at least a little human. Humans have names and hearts. That's really the only thing that makes us different from animals and myths."

Matchitehew nodded. "Very well, then. I see you've thought of this before."

Kong shrugged. He was enjoying this game, this playful back and forth routine. He strained his ears to listen for sounds other than their own voices inside the store. But nothing came back, not even the whispered words. As far as Kong was concerned, it was just him and the devil for the night. No, sorry, Kong corrected his thoughts. Himself and Matchitehew.

"But you still haven't answered my question." Matchitehew took a step forward, closing off the space between their bodies. Kong moved back, suddenly startled by the large man in front of him. A man, Kong reminded himself again. A human (sort of) name, a human form. This was not the devil, but some really hot guy playing a trick. He thought of Arthit again, and wondered what he'd do.

Fuck 'em, Kong heard Arthit's voice inside his ear. Each time Arthit had a problem, instead of good luck he uttered Fuck 'em, fuck 'em,fuck 'em from between clenched teeth. Kong's sudden heart beat to the same rhythm in his mind as Matchitehew's eyes washed over him.

"Trick or treat?" he asked again. "That is all I want to know."

Kong could feel the hot breath from Matchitehew on his lips. The heat between their bodies was overwhelming, almost like hell itself.

"Trick," Kong said.

The lights went off. Flood lights around the front of the store came on instead. Kong pulled away from Matchitehew's gaze and looked over the corner. He saw no one anywhere in the store. He heard no one. Nobody could have turned off those lights but the man standing in front of him. The sickening thwack of locks clamping down next disturbed Kong more than the sudden clacking of hooves and Matchitehew stepped closer.

"Good?" Matchitehew asked.

"Not quite," Kong said. He kept his voice strong, even. "I'm not convinced that was you."

"What will convince you?"

"Don't do any mind tricks. I don't like those."

"What tricks do you like?"

"Guess." Kongpob waited on the balls of his feet as Matchitehew's mouth finally met his own. His breath was hot inside as their lips touched and soon parted. Matchitehew's kiss was fierce, pressing against Kong as if this was his first and last embrace ever. Near the end, as Kong felt Matchitehew's tongue move down his neck and near his ear, he could have sworn that this man's tongue was truly forked.

Tsss tss tss, Kong heard in his ears. A slow rattle, another laugh. He knew that the sounds couldn't have been from Matchitehew's mouth. They kept their lips and tongues and all else focused on nothing but one another. He couldn't have spoken like this from between breaths. Is this the trick? Kong wondered. He worried that the man he held in his arms would suddenly turn to snakes. What if it all really was real? What if this was more than just an odd experience for the Halloween season? What if, what if...Kong trailed off as another round of tsss tsss tsss snake sounds buzzed in his mind. Matchitehew's hands swooped up under his arms, lifting him clear off the ground. He pinned him to the wall and placed their lips together again, pushing his tongue past Kong's dry lips.

"There is your trick. No you show me a treat," Matchitehew said, whispering another hiss into Kong's ear. "And together we will both get what we really want."

Matchitehew held Kong in place with one hand. The other moved over Kong's belt, undoing the buckle, and taking out his cock. Matchitehew ran his hand up and down Kong's already hardened dick, closing his fingers around the head. Kong elicited low moans. He felt a bruise form under the hand where Matchitehew held in him place against the wall. He leaned into the sensation, the pain almost as pleasurable as the devil's hand over his cock. Almost.

"What do you want?"

Kong moaned. The hand was hot against his skin. He could feel the nails on Matchitehew's hand, rubbing against him. Kong had no idea how he still stayed up right, conscious and lucid. He felt higher than he ever felt before, but knew that drugs were not the factor. Blood flowed to his cock. He wanted more than a hand, more than just being pinned. He wanted to be taken from behind, his arms twisted around his back, and fucked until he couldn't move. Fuck 'em, fuck 'em, fuck 'em, Arthit's voice came through his head again. Louder, insistent,and filled with a hot aroused rage.

"I want it all," Kong moaned.

He felt Matchitehew smile against his throat. "Only if you promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Don't be so quick to say yes." Matchitehew pressed his hand into Kong's as a warning strike. "You never know what you will give up."

"Then I'll hear your deal."

Matchitehew smiled. "You suck me first. And then..."

He dropped Kong, who then fell to his knees. Down on the ground, Kong saw the man's legs for what they really were - real hooves and haunches. Not something sideshow trick. Real devil's the two legs, Kong was relieved to find a man's cock, thick and uncircumcised, the skin more pink than red.

"Suck it," Matchitehew demanded once again. Kong placed his hands on Matchitehew's thighs,pressing into the delicate skin and strong muscle. He placed his hand around the base of his dick, still hardening inside his hand, and then looked up into the devil's black, beady eyes. There was no fooling this time around. No trick of the mind. This was the devil; Matchitehew, the one with an evil heart. And Kong knew he was ready to give in.

"What else?" Kong asked. He kissed the head of Matchitehew's cock and held him in his fist. "What else do you want after this?"

"Suck me, I'll fuck you," Matchitehew repeated, his tongue lashing quickly inside his mouth. "And then I want you to fuck Arthit."

"What?"

"Fuck Arthit. Don't let him call the shots anymore."

"But..." Kong trailed off. His hand loosened around Matchitehew's cock. He felt panic override his body's desire and he wondered what kind of world he had stumbled into inside of here. "How do you..."

"Shhh." Matchitehew put a finger over Kong's mouth. "My words, dear boy. Obey them. Will you?"

Kong paused. He considered the request. He took too long and the devil spoke again. "How else can I make my demands clear?" Fuck him. Rule him. Make him beg. Just like I will do to you right now. It's that simple."

Kong swallowed hard. He was used to taking orders now. Sometimes he even liked it. But could he give orders himself, back to Arthit, now that the devil had shown him how?" He wasn't sure. But he knew that he could chase this feeling, this hard, ravenous arousal, to the ends of the world if he knew where to start looking.

"Kongpob?"

He looked up at Matchitehew's eyes. He smiled.

"I want to hear you say it."

"Yes. Yes, I'll fuck Arthit. I'll give him orders."

"Good. It's nice to turn the tables every so often."

Kong nodded again. He looked back at Matchitehew's cock in his hand, harder than before, and took him inside his mouth. He felt his lips crack slightly under the girth. He gagged, then remembered how to breathe through his nose. Matchitehew twisted his large hands over Kong's head, tangling his long black nails into his hair. He rocked into Kong's mouth and Kong sucked back on him hard. He loved every moment, even the ones that made his eyes water. He held his hands on the base of Matchitehew's cock, twisting as he went up and down. Sometimes, he grabbed the long muscular legs of Matchitehew and held on as he thrust. Kong gave his wet mouth and body over to Matchitehew, trusting him implicitly with each and every movement forward.

"Enough," Matchitehew soon demanded. He grabbed Kong's shirt and made him rise. They stood face to face,as much as they could. Kong craned his neck again and felt the slow ache in his jaw from the act he just performed. He grinned.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," Kong insisted. Matchitehew narrowed his eyes, seeming to understand, and then placed his hand over Kong's shoulders and onto the wall. The mirror cracked at the sudden tremor.

"Turn around," Matchitehew said. "I want you now."

Kong laughed and did as he was told. Matchitehew used his sharp fingers to slice off Kong's shirt and helped him out of his pants. His clothing would be useless now. Another life lived and done, Kong thought. Maybe he could donate the scraps of what he had left to the store, so another person could hear the whispers and murmurs of his past self. There were so many stories in a piece of fabric. So many lives in between seams.

The mirror was cold. As Kong placed his palm against it to steady himself, some pieces fell off and onto the ground. Kong was careful not to step on any of them. The carpet and tile under his toes were cold, but Matchitehew's hand, soon applied to his back, warmed his entire body. He shuddered, eyes closed, and held on. He felt the devil's fingers move over him - and slap him. Kong imagined a red handprint, almost as big as his ass cheek, from Matchitehew strike and shuddered again. Matchitehew struck him once more. In the mirror, Kong caught a quick look from Matchitehew behind him, and smirked. He seemed to enjoy the play much more than he first thought.

Matchitehew soon spat into his hand. Kong could feel how how the saliva was before he even reached out to touch him. The large black nails on Matchitehew's fingers retracted as he slipped his hand towards Kong. He spread one palm over Kong's ass to open him up, before he slid a thick finger inside of him.

"Ohhh," Kong moaned. He furrowed his eyebrows. He paced himself as the devil added another finger and stroked. Kong glanced over his shoulder after a few moments, a small grin on his face.

"Do you want more?" Matchitehew slid another finger inside, now up to three. Kong smiled wide, leaning into the sensation.

"Gentle." He shuddered between the exaltations. "Yes. But be gentle."

"I always am." Matchitehew smiled. Slowly, and after a low, sinister laugh, Matchitehew continued to work his fingers inside Kong.

Kong made a tense noise in his throat. It wasn't pain - not really. He felt the pressure of Matchitehew so close to him and Kong knew this was an important step. He had felt the devil's cock in his mouth and knew he needed more preparation than usual. And Matchitehew was good to his word. He moved inside him with a gentle touch that made Kong shudder and thrust his hips towards the devil. Matchitehew held a heavy palm against Kong's shoulder and balanced before he spoke again.

"You must stay on your feet. I know you can support me. The body is tough, resilient. I've seen a lot that men can do - and what men can walk away from."

"I don't want to walk away from this."

"It's an expression. You will be changed, though. After me. Most people are."

"Good."

Matchitehew kissed Kong's neck and then bit down. Kong groaned and rocked backwards into the devil more. He almost didn't want to let go at all. Kong moaned and pitied himself when the devil took his hand away. Matchitehew spit into his palm again and then raised his dark eyes.

"Ready," Kong answered before the devil had asked. He seemed delighted. Kong saw Matchitehew's thick cock in the mirror as he held it tight in his hand.

"Here you are, my friend," Matchitehew said. "Your trick and treat."

Kong cried out as he entered. It was a good cry, he knew it was. He could handle the pressure that came with the pain. The sudden intense feeling that would soon spread out and become something much better. It must be what a marathon felt like, or tattoos, or walking on a bed of nails. The pain was always sharp and sudden, but then the body remembered what it was made of. Flesh and blood and bone will always support you.

Kong clenched his fists as Matchitehew began to rock into him. At first, Kong was so concentrated on allowing the devil inside that his own erection went away. But once Matchitehew's thrusts began to feel as good as breathing, his hand found himself again. A few motions from the man behind him, along with an extended look in the mirror, and Kong was going again. Hard and fast, he pumped his cock as Matchitehew fucked him. They were as loud and they wanted - at times, Kong worried, too loud. But the low light of the clothing store surrounded them, the red curtains flung to the side, and Matchitehew's mammoth body blocked whatever else could be seen. Kong soon forgot himself.

Matchitehew leaned down and kissed Kong's neck again. His lips were dry and hard and sometimes he bit Kong's skin. Each prick was like another stroke against his body, another thrust inside of him. The marks Matchitehew left would prove to Kong later that this was all real. He would look back on the experience and know that something good had happened here. He had been found by someone - something - inside purgatory that latched on and wouldn't let go. When Matchitehew snaked his hand down by Kong's cock, and took it from him in one solid fist, Kong thought he would die it felt so good.

"Oh, God," he cried out.

Matchitehew, tho one with an evil heart, laughed at the remark. "Come on now ,you're among friends."

"Fuck," Kong uttered instead. He turned to meet the devil's lips. They kissed slowly and passionately as the forked tongue Kong knew was there struck his own. Matchitehew pumped Kong's cock in his hand and then tapped his fingers against Kong's chest in a slow, hypnotizing rhythm. Matchitehew held Kong close to his body as he thrust deeper inside. In some moments, Kong felt as if the devil could snap him in two. Kongpob wondered if that could really happen as the thrusts became more sudden, erratic, and deeper. But there was such an implicit trust between them and Kong felt no pain that he didn't already want. He knew he was sage. How could Kong even think to be afraid when he was in the literal hands of the devil? If Matchitehew had wanted him dead,he would have killed him earlier. He wouldn't have waited to fuck him like this.

Kong grinned as he saw the red skin in the mirror. Then he shuddered as he felt his orgasm mount inside of him and Matchitehew's groan in his ear.

"I'm close," Matchitehew said.

Kongpob nodded. He waited and wondered what it would feel like. If the devil would come in or on him and if it would be as hot and toxic as his saliva had felt.

"You first," Matchitehew said. He gripped Kong's cock harder and pulled at him. Kong didn't have time to say yes to no, or to thank the devil for being so persistent and strong. He felt the gripping sensation of orgasm and the blinding white heat of Matchitehew's hand and desires.

"Fuck, fuck," Kong said through clenched teeth. He felt his balls tighten and his body stiffen. He came against his own stomach and against the mirror. In a second, he opened his eyes and saw Matchitehew's black ones widen. A smile twisted on his face and the lights outside their change room flickered.

"Soon," Matchitehew said. He smiled and then squeezed Kong's waist. His eyes rolled back in his head. "Now."

Matchitehew's orgasm moved through him in a shudder. He didn't let Kong go. He held on tighter before Kong suddenly felt his own stomach spasm. He held his own cock in his hand as he felt another orgasm take him over. He came against his thigh again just as he felt Matchitehew finish inside of him.

Matchitehew groaned new words, almost incomprehensibly, into Kong's ears as his hands moved to Kong's waist. Kong braced himself for a kiss after the climax, maybe even some cuddling now the devil had gotten off. But as soon as Kong raised his eyes to the mirror, he saw the smoke. The steam that condensed on the mirror and made everything blurry. Kong became a mess of sensation and dizziness, just as his vision went black.

I'll say it for you. What the actual fuck?

So. I'm definitely going to Hell for writing this and so are you if you enjoyed it. Haha. Thank you for reading, if you managed to stick with it!