It was supposed to have been a simple night out. Go to the bar, catch a drink with some friends, maybe get a hookup if you found a guy hot enough. Of course, however, your friends just had to cancel last-second. And of course some creepy guy had to spike your drink. And of course said guy was now trying to drag you into his truck.

“Hnngh…no…!” You muttered, slurring. You pushed weakly at him, unable to do anything against his strength. “Stop strugglin’, pretty boy.” He chuckles, yanking your arm and earning another drunken whine.

Something silver flies through the air, landing in the door of the truck, right next to his face. A knife.

“I suggest you get the fuck away from him b’fore I through anotha’ one, creep.” Scoffs a new boy, stepping out from the bar, holding a handful of knives. To your surprise, it’s a skeleton. There’s goop running down his face and he has a strained grin on his face. The man lets go of you, muttering out an apology, slamming his door and driving away in a panic. You stumble backwards, tripping, only to be caught by the skeleton. “Y’alright? I hate guys like that.” He asks, his grin softening to something more genuine.

You where shocked, sure it had been a couple months since the monsters underground had come to the surface, and about two months since those odd, alternate versions had begun popping up and vanishing unannounced, but you had never seen one for yourself. Now there he stood, holding you in his arms, bathed in moonlight.

And holy shit was he hot.