He may not get to keep his eyes, but at least he went to the party.
Eyes Like Mine
Malik's cigarette smoldered between his fingers as he stared out past the window and into the street ahead. The smoke danced in the air, twirling in spirals that dissipated when they hit the low ceiling of the truck. He took a moment to flick the ash from the cigarette.
Malik wasn’t even sure why he was there, what the woman wanted from him--what her name even was. She looked over at him and gave a long, slow blink. Again, he was caught up by the perfect emerald in her eyes.
He doubted she’d said more than twenty words since they’d met at the bar.
“We’re here,” she said. She smiled, her lips a red darker than blood. “I told you that I’d take you someplace better.”
She didn’t say anything else and opened the truck door. She looked over her shoulder, obviously expecting him to follow her. Malik hesitated before opening his own door. She took his hand, and he was surprised by how cool her skin was. She pulled him toward a large, crumpled building that had clearly seen better years.
The music squeezed him like a heartbeat, lights flashing around in dizzying neon colors. The group of people were tightly clustered in the center of the dusty building’s floor in a gyrating mass. The woman shoved him toward them and one of the people there grabbed hold of his arm. There was strength in the grip on his skin. Malik looked. The girl that had grabbed him could have been his companion’s sister with the same emerald eyes. She smiled at him, and it wasn’t a pleasant smile.
She dragged him further into the group, where hands grasped and clawed their way at him. Each face he saw, male and female, was eerily familiar and not entirely human looking in the flashing lights. There was a way the lights reflected off their skin, giving the semblance of scales, or how he could see that they were...different...when he saw them out of the corner of his eye, like a faded after image of things much larger with fangs and claws.
They swarmed him, holding his limbs. The girl that brought him weaved her way through the crowd and stared at him. She held a squirming, silver mass. She clenched his cheeks with one hand, forcing his mouth open, and slid the thing into his mouth. He could feel it writhing and tearing through him as he choked and screamed.
They let him go and he stumbled forward. Malik ran past them and out into the night. He ran to his truck and slammed the door behind him. He could still feel it inside him, moving. He fumbled for his keys but paused as something caught his attention in the mirror. He stared closely, a feeling of primal terror settling deep in his heart.
His eyes were not his eyes.
The color of his irises was being overtaken by a beautiful shade of green.
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