“Tyler, right?” the recruiter asked.

Tyler nodded. “Yes.”

“We do a background check during the resume screening. You passed the identity verification and the AI assisted plagiarism check.” The recruiter paused.

She continued: “We monitor you during the next recruitment steps.”

Tyler glanced at the ceiling camera.

“We analyze your physical and online activity while on our premises, including your phone usage.”

Tyler dried his sweaty palms on his legs.

“Our AI identified inconsistencies between your recent writing samples that you wrote while at our office and those online, as well as discrepancies in your physical appearance in meetings with us, compared to photos and videos previously posted online.”

Tyler swallowed, tasting bile in his mouth.

The recruiter leaned forward. “Finally, our generative speech analysis compared your online voice to your demeanor here. We combined and analyzed the data. Let’s start over. Who are you?”

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The pool of blood under the metal butcher’s block is the only physical reminder left of her. A sigh escapes my lips. In the end, she had died too quickly for my liking. Thankfully, her pleading whimpers and terrified shrieks still echo around in my playroom, much like a soothing, background music.

I’ve already cleaned the fully tiled walls with a pressure-washer. My hooks, tongs, boning knives, even my favorite mandolin for my work on the skin of the extremities, are all meticulously clean. I’ve cleared the floor drain of any leftover hairs, bone fragments and other bodily remains.

Feeling increasingly satisfied, I can’t help but hum the opening lines of my favorite song by ‘The Temptations’. My humming quickly turns into giddy singing: “I’ve got sunshine,… on a cloudy day….” The familiar tingling in my body starts, and before I know it, I am performing the ‘Temptation Walk’, swaying to the tune of this song that I know so well from my youth.

My dad and I would dance to this song in our living room, every time after he had told me, with wide-open sparkling eyes, that another one of the many ‘auntie’s’ he brought home wouldn’t be visiting us anymore.

He was the one who taught me that expressing my interest in a girl with a well-timed reference to this timeless classic song would almost always make her let her guard down.

All set! I’m ready to hit the bars tonight. I can’t wait to meet my next girl and, soon, welcome her into my playroom.

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Sonja still felt stunned that she had managed to slip away from her regular grocery store, her full cart left abandoned. She had gone to the other, pricier store. Finishing up, and finally at ease, Sonja warmly greeted the cashier.

Suddenly, a familiar silhouette grabbed her attention. The woman’s preying eyes immediately locked on Sonja. Sonja froze as the woman hurried straight towards her. She was stuck between the next person in line and the guy packing her groceries.

The woman, now blocking her passageway, hissed menacingly, “Sonja, there you are. Why aren’t you answering my messages?”

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Slowly, I licked the inside of her underarm, from her wrist up to her elbow. I pressed my tongue firmly against her skin, savoring every inch. I could feel her blood pounding in her arteries.

I glanced at her face: nostrils flaring, her skin soaked with sweat, tears and blood. Through the gag, I could hear her whimper. The sounds sent waves of delight up my spine.

She looked at me with her remaining eye, the brown pupil fully dilated in a bloodshot eyeball.

The closer I got to the elbow joint, the more she shook, her body trembling violently. She had quickly learned the rules of my game. She knew my next cut would be right below the joint.

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The enormous effort to cross the Atlantic had been worth it. His exhausted, pain-ridden body relaxed in anticipation.

The sea displayed the dark blue and aquamarine hues he fondly remembered from his youth.

The sun burned on his paper-thin skin.

The hospice nurse carefully helped him into the water.

Soon, the sea embraced him.

He was ready to let go.

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Shirma loved her waitressing job at the restaurant. It was just dealing with the kitchen crew, that proudly addressed themselves as the “white brigade”, and more in particular, Chef Logan, that posed a challenge.

Just tonight, Shirma hurried to grab a bag of frozen fruit from the walk-in freezer. The bag wasn’t on the usual shelf, so she had to go deeper into the freezer.

Suddenly, the freezer door slammed shut, instantly cutting off the light. Feeling her way to the freezer door with her free arm, she pushed against it, but it wouldn’t budge. She pounded on the door.

“Hey! Let me out!”

Logan answered sneeringly. “What’s that? Did a black brigade rat enter my freezer without my approval?” Logan never hid his contempt for the waiting staff, the so-called “black brigade”.

“Don’t be such an obnoxious jerk, Logan!” Shirma shouted. She kept pounding on the door. “Open the damn door!”

“Ask politely!” Logan hissed back.

Shirma felt her pulse speeding. “Let me out now!”

She pushed against the door with all her weight, but it didn’t budge.

Just as she attempted a second push, the door flew open.

Shirma blinked. The entire white brigade stood in a semi-circle facing the freezer, Logan at the center, hands on his hips.

“Shirma my dear, were you locked in the freezer?” He smirked at her. “It was cold in there, eh?” His eyes fixated on her breasts. “Shit,” Shirma thought, realizing she wasn’t wearing a padded bra.

“Fuck you,” she hissed angrily and stormed out of the kitchen, leaving the bad jokes and laughter behind.

Mara, the bartender, looked at her questioningly. “You okay?”

“Yeah” Shirma answered, “It’s just Logan, he is such a jerk. Sure, he’s a great Chef. But why couldn’t he be a great, mute Chef?”

Mara laughed uncontrollably. “Good one, Shirms!”

Shirma couldn’t help but laugh as well. Still, one day, someone had to make Logan stop.

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Terri gazed sadly at her friend Chrystel, sitting across the table.

‘I was at his place and he put on some music. As I tried to remember the songs’ title, he started singing. He broke up with me singing the lyrics to ‘All the girls I’ve loved before’! Basically, he told me I could travel out his door. It was so humiliating!’

Chrystel nodded empathetically.

‘I just don’t understand. We got along well….’

‘Yes, you did. But maybe you guys were only intended to be friends?’

‘Nooo, the chemistry was real! He did things to me….’ Terri blushed. Chrystel felt her stomach harden.

Tears welled up again in Terri’s eyes. ‘I thought that we were open and comfortable with each other. He says that we’re too comfortable with each other. He is not feeling a thrill anymore.’ Sobbing, she continued: ‘How is feeling comfortable and safe together, a bad thing?!’

Chrystel sighed. ‘I don’t now Terri. It just sounds like his mind is made up.’

Terri faced her friend. ‘Do you think there’s someone else?’

Taken aback, Chrystel averted her eyes and took a sip of coffee. ‘No,’ she said decisively, ‘He’s not that kind of guy.’

‘I don’t know what’s worse,’ Terri whispered, ‘To be replaced or to hear that you are not enough…’ She shook her head. ‘I am going to wash my face’.

As soon as Terri left, Chrystel grabbed her phone to text.

‘Am I too going to be just another girl you’ve loved before?’

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Liliana gently touched the French door panel. The door was original to the fully restored 18th-century baroque-style plantation house. The exterior walls were painted a deep ocher, typical of the island. Liliana loved the contrast with the white curved façade lines and white window frames.

The interior was painted a subdued, comforting yellow. She felt the tropical trade wind flow through the house, just as intended when it was built centuries ago.

She nodded at the sales agent. She would own this house and build the future her ancestors, once mere commodities on this property, had envisioned for their offspring.

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Tap 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Okay.

Turn left, turn left, final turn. Yes. Okay.

Click on, click off. Okay, the coffee machine was turned off.

She pulled out the power plug. Wait, was that a tiny spark? She reconnected it. Was this plug always so warm? She couldn’t remember. She pulled the plug back out. No sparks.

Oven door ajar. Okay.

Microwave door closed. Okay.

Dishwasher door ajar. Okay.

She didn’t hear Eric entering the kitchen. ‘Come on Marella, we have to leave now if we want to make it to the airport on time!’

She nodded. ‘Yes, yes, I’m coming.’

He retreated to the car where their two children were impatiently waiting.

As soon as Eric left the kitchen, she noticed the blender. She unplugged it. Was it safe to let the cord on the kitchen counter? Could the heat of the plug melt the countertop? Or worse?

No! Stop it! Frustrated, she shook her head.

She checked the faucet again. Turn left, turn left. Yes, it was closed tight.

‘Marellaaaa!!!’ Eric was shouting now.

‘Mohommm, lets gohooo!’ Her ten-year-old daughter had entered the kitchen. She grabbed her mothers’ hand and pleaded: ‘I really want to go to Disneyland Mom, let’s not miss this flight again.’

Reluctantly, Marella followed her daughter to the front door. She started to turn around, but her daughter pulled her forward. The little girl only let go of her hand, once Marella was inside the car with her seatbelt fastened.

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“It sounds like you had a delightful day, Jax!” Gruffy says cheerfully.

“Yes I did! We went to the park, I had yummy treats and so many cuddles! I was even allowed to stick my head out the window!” I sigh contently and put my paw on the gruffy human’s hand.

Gruffy gently places my paw back on the blanky, avoiding the cold surface. This is my favorite blanky. I push my nose in it. It smells like my food and my favorite human. The edges are chewed up, but the texture feels nice when I roll on my back. I remember, even though I haven’t rolled on my back for a long time. It hurts to move like that now.

My favorite human shakes her head, smiling. She scratches behind my right ear. Ah….I’m loving it! The sensation travels all the way down to my tail. I wag my tail a bit. I used to wag my entire body. I can’t anymore.

She presses her face in my neck. I smell saltiness on her face. I wag my tail a bit more, that will surely make her smile.

Gruffy asks: “Are you ready?” My favorite human nods. She starts scratching both my ears simultaneously. I drool from pure pleasure.

Gruffy pats the back of my neck. I feel a cold sharp sting but I instantly forget about it because of the ear scratching.

I could take a nap like this. My eyes feel so heavy. I hear my favorite human’s voice and feel her endless scratches as I slowly doze off.

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