It wasn’t me, Officer.

You have to believe me! I’m not capable of any wrongdoing; I have never hurt a fly! Please, I’m just a simple old man. I just happened to meet her…

It was a Friday night when I met her—yes, a Friday night! I was at the Trampoline Bar. I was drowning myself in my sorrows and listening to their ear splitting screams when she just…came up to me. And kissed me on the lips. Like my dear departed wife, who passed away a few years back, bless her heart. She even tasted like her. Freshly-fried chicken drumsticks.

“Hey,” she said, and the second thing I noticed was her eyes. Bright blue, like the seas and oceans in a faraway paradise. Then the rest of her came into view. Dark brown hair flowing over her shoulders like liquid chocolate, and a silver pyramid necklace around her neck. Looks no older than thirty, I reckon.

“Let’s dance.”

And we danced the hours away, under the shining moon and to the symphony of crickets. I was addicted to her. She never made me feel more alive.

The next thing I remember is sitting on the sofa in a house. I don’t know how I got there; no memory of getting into a car or taxi, nothing. My mind was foggy. My head was pounding. Beyond a door was a disturbing mass of gurgling screams.

She just came up to me, holding a crimson-soaked knife in one bloody hand and the head of a brunette in the other.

“Here,” she said, dumping the head in my lap. I tried to speak, but instead a dribble of drool escaped my mouth. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t move.

Her eyes twinkled as she rearranged my mouth in a grotesque smile. Poured the insides of her body down my neck. It splashed and slithered down my skin, staining my shirt with bloody gravy. Finally she stuck her fingers into the eyelids and popped out the eyes. Stuck them in my ears like weird hearing-aids. Cold blood trickled down my face.

She kissed me again. “Good night,” she whispered.

Then she was gone, leaving me alone with blaring sirens and flashing lights in the distance.

“Likely story,” she scoffed. “You have always been a problem, mister. And now you’re ours.”

“No, please!” the old man cried out. “It’s all true! Please be reasonable and fair and listen to me!”

The police officer laughed out loud and spat in his face as her colleagues dragged him away, kicking and screaming.

As soon as he was gone, she chuckled to herself. She untied her bun, letting chocolate hair cascade down her shoulder. Her blue eyes shone with resentment for that old man, not an ounce of sympathy. She remembered how he hit her as she screamed, kicked her out of the house into the cold. Now after years of planning, he was finally into her hands.

“Good riddance, Grandpa.” she muttered to herself.