Hot But Crazy

Two thoughts ran through my mind that day. One, ‘Hot guys are always hot until they open their mouths.’ And two, ‘What a shame.’

I scoffed at his question. “Are you intoxicated?”

He looked at me with amusement. “Intoxicated by you.”

*Beelzebub! What a cheesy line!*

I rolled my eyes and pushed him to give me some distance. After taking off my goggles and rubber gloves, I gave him an unamused look. “Sir, I need you to get out of this lab.”

He blinked at my stern voice. Tilting his head to the side, he looked at me as if he was sizing up his prey. I would not lie that his dark eyes were a little bit intimidating. Like Alexander’s eyes–

*Hey, brain! Why are you thinking about that man again?*

“I know what you want,” the man suddenly said.

“We hardly even know each other and you already think you can read my mind?”

“But we’ve met before,” he said to my surprise, “Well, more like you saw us.”

My heart stopped right then.

*Did he just…? But that’s no way! How in the world…?*

At last, I gave him a serious look. My eyes were wide, my hands were clammy on my sides. I wanted to back away from him again but the table hindered me to do so. The chill on my spine grew like an infection, spreading all over me.

I was supposed to ask him, ‘When?’ or ‘Where?’ but I did not. Because I already knew. Despite my neocortex –where logical deductions arrived from and sensations are made sense in our brain –protesting, the roots of doubts had crumbled my reality. I had begun to question myself if all the things I knew were not as it seemed to be. Those roots dug deep into my brain, leaving a tangled mess inside the one organ I was most proud of.

And I hated that feeling. So much. The feeling of uncertainty. Of hovering between what to believe and not knowing what to do about it.

In my moment of silence, the man smirked and said, “I know you’re sick.”

My eyes darted to his face again. His smile made me focus on his slightly thick lips. I wondered then, how would it feel like to kiss those smoking lips and run my fingers through his dark curly hair.

*Shit, Arianna! Get yourself together!* I scolded myself inwardly. Shame bloomed inside of me. How I could lust for a man that I have never known before was beyond me. Added the fact that I was aroused… when that hybrid touched me…

*Am I really a nymphomaniac? Or is it cancer talking? I never knew that cancer can make you a sex addict…*

*Wait a minute, maybe I should use this as a research topic. It would be an interesting subject.*

“I can give you immortality,” he continued to say, “A life without limit.” His voice somehow reminded me of the depth of the ocean. Not like I had experience with diving, but I went snorkeling a few times. His voice just sounded so deep as the ocean.

I know. My analogy was not making any sense. Nonetheless, it was the truth. His bass-like voice and the way his adam’s apple moved made me imagine the calm blue sea.

Because I was so engrossed in how his voice was two octaves lower than most men I have met, I did not realize when he had stepped forward to me. By the time I snapped back from my trance, he had already put his two arms on either side of my body. He gripped the table, locking me between his arms, and he bent his tall body so that his eye leveled mine.

My breath hitched at that moment. One, I had to thank Beelzebub right then that he did not smell like overly used cologne as most boys would smell. Instead, he smelled like tobacco, musk, and lemon.

Two, his eyes just flashed yellow. And this time, it stayed yellow.

I tried to take a breath but the air suddenly felt heavy. The chills had spread all over my body. And though I knew that I had hit a dead end with the table, I still tried to back away from him.

He smirked when he noticed my body backing away. He reminded me so much of Alexander. Always smirking that devilish smile to tease me.

The man leaned forward as I curved my body backward to avoid his nose bumping mine. Because the table was quite low, only up to my hip, when I backed away I instinctively sat on the table. But when that devil man kept leaning to me, my back had to bend more backward than ever and I found myself almost laying on top of the table.

My back touched the beaker glass and few reaction tubes on the table. I almost knocked them all down on the table. Thank Beelzebub that they were all empty.

“H– how did your eyes do that?” I asked, trying to break the (sexual) tension between us. “Is that a new type of eye lens?”

He finally stopped leaning. His nose and lips hovered just an inch from my face. I could feel his hot breaths on my skin whenever he breathed. And from close up, he was absolutely gorgeous.

“Come on, Arianna,” he said, “You already know why my eyes are like this.”

“N– no… I don’t,” I stammered.

“Yes, you do. The same way you know that it is in everyone’s best interest that you make a deal with me.”

I frowned at his words. “What deal?”

His smile blossomed on his rugged but devilishly handsome face. My mouth parted slightly at that sight but I would also argue it was because it was getting harder to breathe through my nose. So, I breathed through my mouth.

“Become my bride,” he said, “Become a demon’s bride, Arianna.”

I blinked.

*Wait.* How did he know my name? *Oh right, my name tag is attached to my lab coat.*

“A what bride?” Yesterday a famous superstar told me he was a hybrid. Now, this handsome fella acted like he was a demon?

“A demon’s bride,” he repeated with so much casualty. As if it was normal.

“Sir,” I gulped before I continued, “Did you come from the west wing?”

“Uh… yeah.”

“Third floor?”

He nodded. “How did you know that? Were you reading my mind?” He looked overly excited out of a sudden. “Were my thoughts leaking to your mind? Are you seeing my memories?”

“Huh?”

“I knew it!” He grabbed my shoulders and suddenly raised me to an embrace. “I knew it! I knew it!”

“Woah! Put me down!” I cried out.

To my surprise, he did follow my demand. He put me down gently but did not let go of his grips on my shoulders.

“Damn! I really have to follow your every order, huh? You can really insert thoughts inside our minds and make use do whatever you want.”

My pupils darted to the top right of my eyes. They always do that when I am thinking. Let’s try to deduce this step by step.

One, he mentioned the stereotype delusions that a schizophrenic patient would say; thought broadcasting and thought insertion. Thought broadcasting is the belief that others can see and hear your mind. While thought insertion is the belief that one’s thoughts are not their own but instead, were put by others.

Two, the third floor on the west wing was the psychiatric ward.

Though the roots of doubts had shaken me, I was not ready to let go of my sanity yet. So, I smiled at him. “Listen, can you let go of me?”

He gave me a scrutinizing look. “Are you making a deal with me? Be my bride Arianna, and I’ll end your mortal suffering.” He looked… actually genuine about it. It almost made me feel guilty for what I was about to do.

“Let go of me,” I demanded. I was not sure if he would obey me and was about to hit him in the crotch and made my run to the door. But he did obey me. He released me though reluctantly.

As he believed I could insert thoughts into his mind, I used that for my gain. *Beelzebub, look how low I have stooped in life, taking advantage of a psychiatric patient.*

“Step away from me,” I commanded again.

“Arianna,” he growled. Yet he followed my words and stepped back.

“Stay. Don’t move.”

His growl became more pronounced. His eyes glowed at me and his veins bulged from his neck as he tried to fight the… invisible force of my command? I did not know how delusions work. Anyway, him battling his own self gave me a chance to bolt to the door of the lab, scanned my name tag, and then locked the door again. I wasted no time calling the psychiatric ward telling them that one of their patients was on the loose.

Strangely, they did not have any patients missing. But when I told them about what the man told me and how he had acted, they sent some staff to the lab. As the man still ‘obeying my words’, he did not even move when the staff got near him. Though when one of the staff tried to talk and touch him, he bit one of the staff's fingers to the point of bleeding. He only released the fingers when I commanded him.

So, they had to resort to putting him on a straitjacket and sat him in a wheelchair. “Follow their instructions,” I said to him. His yellow eyes suddenly turned dark-colored again. *I have to search for this type of contact lens when I get home.* He looked at me like a lost puppy.

“Arianna…”

“It’s for your own good. I hope you recover soon.”

The staff started pushing the wheelchair away from the lab. “Shit, Arianna!” Those were the last words he said to me. I was quite relieved that he did not put up much fight on the way.

Were my words really that powerful? Who knows.

Then… how did he know those stuff about me? About my hallucination, my meeting with the hybrid –which I was still fighting to find a logical explanation for it –and my sickness?

I shook my head. I did not want to care. For all I knew, the matter was over and I could get back to my normal life.

But I was wrong.

So so wrong.