Jemma - The Beach
The young woman hardly noticed the massive figure who blocked her path. There were so many people jostling her about, and besides, most were probably far too intoxicated to pay her any mind. But when a sturdy hand cupped her backside, she gave a squeal, and realized that he was focused entirely on her. This was not another drunken fool who paused only to shove a cup in her face, though she did smell the heavy stink of alcohol on his breath. This man had taken interest in her, and under the blinding sun, with the music throbbing in her head, she struggled to figure out why.
Well, if
man was the appropriate tone at all. Jemma's lips parted in awe, and she nearly lost the candy she sucked on as she gazed up at him. It. Whatever. There was so much hair, and the horns that protruded from his head could not possibly be fake. If this person was also dead, and had followed the same process that she had, he had been far more creative in selecting his appearance.
As his other arm snaked around her small body to drag her closer, her hands went up in protest. Balled fists met the hard muscle of his midsection, and her heart leapt to her throat. He was saying something, but it sounded far away, and all she could manage was a soft, confused "mhmm."
What in the world is going on?Suddenly, her sense of sight felt off. Everything appeared brighter, but perhaps it was the strange blue filter that was to blame. Time seemed to speed up a bit, and she witnessed a man having his drink taken. But as quickly as the vision had come, it died away, and the blonde turned her head as she gagged. The candy was gone, and the sweet taste of strawberries had been replaced by something far more vile.
But what she found far more upsetting was the scene that played before her only seconds later. That same blonde man from before, raving about his cup being taken. "What the?" she murmured, before retching again.