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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Various_Destinations on 2024-11-01 05:12:36+00:00.

Her name was Corina… I think. It’s weird, you’d think I would remember her name properly. She was certainly unique. We met in Psych 101 back in college. She was a little shy, and had a bit of a goth aesthetic. I’m not usually bold, but I took a swing at talking to her, and we actually got along ok. Ok enough that I asked her on a date a few weeks into the semester, and she said yes. We grabbed a bite to eat. I almost expected her to be vegan, but no. Ordered a big, juicy steak. Somehow I can remember that… but not her name.

She was pretty reserved at first, but I got her to open up by asking about her interests. The girl loooved horror movies. She actually kind of lit up when she started talking about them. I would just smile and nod. I didn’t dislike horror movies or anything, I can appreciate a good scare, but I wasn’t in love with them or anything. Corina… she was. So much so, she actually invited me back to her place to watch one with her after our first date. I was a bit surprised at the proposition, but I agreed. She was cute.

Her place was huge. I guess her family had money… a lot of it. They boarded her in a sizable house, almost a mansion, with no roommates. I definitely found it odd, but I quickly grew to appreciate it. At least, for a while. That first night, we watched a pretty standard slasher. She didn’t seem too into the movie, and I didn’t think too much about it myself, as we didn’t end up watching the whole thing. We got distracted.

We started hanging out more, but pretty early on it became clear that staying in and watching horror movies was her favorite pastime. I asked her to be my girlfriend anyway. While I wasn’t a huge fan of the films, the nights spent doing this always ended… eventfully. But, the movies. They got worse. She got braver in what she wanted to watch with me. And she’d get more excited. Pretty soon we were watching some pretty brutal stuff. Movies I wasn’t exactly comfortable with. I didn’t know how to approach the subject, because she seemed to thoroughly enjoy them. A bit too much. I started to notice that her “excitement” always seemed to coincide with the more… graphic scenes. And honestly, the gorier and more deranged, the more wild she got. I would enjoy myself… but the backdrop of the movie. It was more than a little off-putting.

I remember trying to turn it off one time. It was like I had hit the power button on her instead. She stopped almost immediately, telling me she was tired. She seemed annoyed, but didn’t say anything directly. I started to get the sense that she had an unhealthy obsession with some pretty dark stuff. I knew things wouldn’t last, but I was having fun. Even if the films had gotten more than a little disturbing. I remember it getting to the point where they weren’t even mass distributed movies. They were grainy and… god. Some of them felt… real.

It was one night like that, the last night. We were watching some fuckin… VHS tape of what seemed to be a man being tortured. It felt too real. It was too much. I tried to let her know it was making me uncomfortable. But, just like every other time I tried to broach the subject, she was almost immediately on top of me. She was extra energetic that night, and after some of the things she did… well. The man’s screams suddenly weren’t so distracting. Though… they were there. And they came into sudden focus after I heard the doorbell ring.

Corina gasped, giddy with excitement, and dashed to the door. I stood and tried to peer the far distance into the entry hall from her spacious living room, and I saw her excitedly lifting a sizable package. The screams from the TV subsided to whimpers as blood spilled from the tortured man. She looked back at me then, and her expression faltered a bit.

“I’ll be right back, just have to put this away!” She had said, before disappearing into a side hallway that I had never given much thought to before. Her voice had a strange quaver. It seemed like excitement and nervousness mixed. My curiosity was piqued. I tried asking her what she got once she returned, but she merely resumed her vigorous… activities. We took it up to her bedroom, and that night was like nothing had been up to that point. She was invigorated. Our activities eventually subsided, and I laid back in her black clad bed, closing my eyes. I could feel her staring at me. I peeked an eye open, and she quickly looked away. She laid then too, without saying anything. I tried to cuddle with her, but she was rigid and unyielding. Something seemed off, and I felt the unease that had slowly been settling in about her creep into my mind. I knew I had to end things. She was… disturbed. I remained quiet. So did she.

We laid there for a long time. Sleep… couldn’t find me. I felt uneasy. This was not helped by the fact that every twenty minutes or so, I would feel her sit up, and I would sense her staring at me. I peeked once or twice. It was a cold stare. I would always make some sort of noise or other indication that I was not fully asleep, and she would quickly return to lying down. Eventually, her breathing did slow, and she appeared to drift off. I could not follow her there. Something was off, and I felt like it had to do with the package.

After a time, I decided that I wouldn’t be able to sleep, not until I knew what made Corina behave so strangely. An invasion of privacy, I know, but in the dead of night, I slipped out of bed all the same. I crept down the stairs that led back down to the living room, careful not to creak any loose floorboards. It was a lovely house, but a bit old. When I got to the bottom, I realized we had left the tape running. The man, he was dead. His arms and legs were missing, and he just lay in a pool of blood on the floor. But I could tell the tape was still playing. I knew that no movie was show a dead body for that long.

I hastened to the hallway that she had taken the package down before, and even debated leaving then. But curiosity gnawed at me. I walked down the hallway, realizing that I had never been in it. There were three doors, a bathroom, a linen closet, and a locked door at the end of the hallway. It was a traditional lock, and I snuck back to the entryway to find her keys sitting on a small table. There were two keys on her ring, other than the one to her Mercedes. I went back and tried them both. One must have been for her house, and I guess the other was for the mailbox or something, because neither worked. I decided to leave it be and just try to go get some rest. I snuck back upstairs, and was about to lay down, when I noticed her clasp bag a few inches from her fingers on a side table. She went everywhere with that thing. I had even noticed her checking it obsessively on several occasions.

Another invasion of privacy, but I couldn’t help it. I quietly lifted the flap, and poked around inside it. Lo and behold, there was a small pocket on the inside, and in that pocket, a pearly key. I remember her stirring when I set the bag back down. I stood stalk still until her movement subsided, then I snuck back down the stairs.

The key fit. It unlocked the door. And behind that door? A nightmare. On display in clear cases were dozens of dismembered body parts. Some seemed preserved, others… not so much. The smell was not egregious outside of the room, but inside? I wanted to vomit. There seemed to be intricate ventilation systems inside each case, but honestly, that’s not what I was focusing on.

I remember the one closest to the door. A human leg, severed at the knee. It had been opened up like a medical display, but it was clearly for artistic effect. Strips of flesh were cut away to form intricate patterns. Blood still seeped from the cuts. It was clearly still fresh. I stumbled further into the room. I saw many things. I… I don’t enjoy recalling them. But I feel like some of it is important. I saw a woman’s severed head on display, with a cool blue light illuminating it. The bottom jaw had been split in two, leaving the two halves dangling down instead of meeting at her chin. It was not one of the well preserved specimens.

I think the worst was the knot of small appendages. Too small. Obviously children’s. They were broken and twisted in impossible ways to make some symbolic-seeming knot. It was hanging above the main attraction. A terrified looking woman who had clearly been dismembered and re-stitched back together, but backwards. Every joint had been severed, only to be reattached in the opposite direction. Her head was on backwards. Even dead and mutilated, her last expression showed primal terror. She too did not appear to have been dead long.

I could go on, but I don’t think I actually spent much time in there. Not long enough to even think of taking a picture. Not before I heard her voice from the doorway behind me.

“Do you like them?”

I’ll never forget that question. Asked quietly and sweetly. And in the most menacing way I have ever heard. I turned to look at her. She was in a white sleeping gown. Her black hair was disheveled. Her pale skin glowed. So did the knife in her hand.

She charged me. It was a jerky and unnatural movement. She tackled me with a strength that seemed incongruent to her small stature. She straddled me in a perverse reflection of our previous activities, only now she ruthlessly stabbed the knife down at me.

147 stitches. That’s how many I ended up needing. Mostly on my chest and neck, but a few o…

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