3 Stop Flirting with my Friend

I froze, my body reacting in ways I didn’t even know it could. It wasn’t just the shock of being caught, it was something in his voice. Deep. Rough. But with an unsettling intimacy. It had a strange edge, like it had crawled into my skin. It made something inside me tremble, like an echo of something ancient. Something forgotten. The kind of voice that could show up in a nightmare, or a dangerously good fantasy.

For a second, everything else vanished. And all I could think was: Who, or what, has a voice like that? And with that thought came a weird tightness in my chest, a mix of fear and fascination that I couldn’t explain.

Cherrie smiled and lowered the window. “Good evening, officer. Is something wrong?”

He stepped closer. Tall. Broad shoulders beneath a dark uniform. His face half shadowed by his cap. And devilishly handsome. But not in a nice-boy kind of way. The dangerous kind, sharp like a blade in a dark room. The kind you know can cut you, and still, you’re drawn to it. His features were sharply defined, almost sculpted. And the tension in his jaw said either he was holding something back, or he was about to lose control.

“I saw you throw trash out the window. That’s a violation. And you’re in the park after closing. That’s another.”

“That wasn’t my trash!” Cherrie blurted. “I mean, I didn’t mean to throw it, I just...” She was nervous. That never happened. I blinked. Confused.

“Just grab the trash and apologize, Cherrie,” I murmured, trying to stay calm. I looked at the officer and added, “Sorry, sir. We’re leaving now.”

He stared at me. Not rushed. Not irritated. Curious.

“You... I’ve never seen you before. That’s odd.” He tilted his head slightly, like trying to pull something out of memory. “I’ve seen your friend around, always with some guy or another, but you…”

He paused for a long moment, eyes locked on mine like he was trying to look past my skin.

“There’s something different about you.”

“Probably because I don’t spend my evenings strolling through town with half the senior class,” I said with a small smirk. “But hey, I’ll take ‘different.’ I think.”

He frowned, like trying to place a scent he couldn’t quite recall. His eyes narrowed, studying my face, and for a second, I swore, he almost growled.

Cherrie huffed. “Okay, officer, stop flirting with my friend. She’s not even eighteen yet, okay?”

She crossed her arms, pouting and flopping back in her seat like she did when she lost an argument with her parents. I rolled my eyes, but couldn’t stop the flush rising to my cheeks. It wasn’t even what the cop had said, it was how Cherrie said it, like she was trying to protect me from something I hadn’t realized I needed protection from.

I stole another glance at his face, trying to figure out what he really wanted. There was something off in the way he looked at me, not exactly threatening, but not comforting either. Like he was trying to read something inside me I didn’t even know existed.

Then his head tilted again, weird, sharp, like he heard something no one else could.

My heart stuttered.

It was like my body knew before I did.

Something. Wasn’t. Right.

Then I noticed his eyes.

For a second, just one heartbeat, I could’ve sworn they were glowing. Not figuratively. Literally glowing. Like a red light, warm and alive, had flickered to life inside them. I was so stunned I completely froze, unable to react, especially when a second eyelid slid across his eyes, fast and smooth, like something out of a reptile documentary.

The air vanished from my lungs, and in its place came a horrifying truth, forming itself with terrifying clarity in my mind: The officer standing in front of us, wearing a uniform, speaking with authority, wasn’t human.

At least… not completely.