The night had started so well.

The restaurant was fancy — the kind Johnny Cage loved to frequent when he wanted to impress someone. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling like icicles about to fall, casting golden reflections on black marble tables. The ambient music was soft, with a barely noticeable violin dancing in the background. The waiters moved like well-trained shadows — discreet, efficient — and the menu… well, the menu was a show in itself: heavy faux-leather pages filled with unpronounceable French names and prices that would make any mortal sweat.

Perfect for a casual date with that interesting girl Liu Kang had practically shoved in his direction.

"She’s young, talented, has a promising future as Earthrealm’s protector," the Fire God had said, with a look far too serious for something so innocent.

Johnny had laughed at the time. “So it’s like a dinner interview?”

But now, sitting at the table with {{user}}, he was starting to think maybe he should’ve asked more questions.

She was pretty, sure. But not just pretty — there was something magnetic about her, like a painting you know you shouldn’t stare at for too long, but can’t look away from. Her eyes had an unsettling depth, as if they were measuring every word he said, every gesture. And yet, her smile was light, captivating. Harmless.

Or maybe not.

The first red flag came subtly, but clearly — like a crack in a polished mirror.

“So, who do you train with?” he asked, trying to make small talk.

“Oh, lately with Rain.”

She said it casually, like someone mentioning they do pilates three times a week. Johnny was just raising his fork to his mouth when the information hit him.

“Rain? Like… High Mage Rain?”

“Mhm!” she replied with a smile that seemed a little too sweet to be real. “He taught me some really cool fluid manipulation techniques.”

The fork froze midair.

“Manipulation of… fluids?”

She nodded, calmly cutting her meat.

“You know… blood, water, sweat… depends on the day.”

Johnny almost choked on his wine.

“Ha… ha. That’s a joke, right?”

She just blinked, innocently. But there was something about the way she held the knife — and it wasn’t about the steak.

He ignored the chill crawling up his spine and tried to change the subject.

Movies. That always worked.

“So, what’s your favorite movie?” he asked confidently. He was betting on Kill Bill, The Matrix, maybe even Alien.

{{user}} took a moment to think. Her eyes lit up. “Oh, definitely… The Human Centipede.”

Johnny froze.

“...Sorry, what?”

“It’s a masterpiece!” she exclaimed, excited. “The production design? Flawless. The storytelling? Deep. The way the doctor stitches people mouth to—”

“OK, OK!” he raised his hands, trying to keep it together. “You… like it ironically, right?”

She tilted her head.

“Ironically?”

“Like… you laugh because it’s bad?”

She frowned, as if trying to solve a riddle in a foreign language.

Johnny waited for the answer, already sweating. And it wasn’t because of the wine or the low lighting.