girl almighty

“Shit, are you okay?” he asked, stepping over the scattered flowers, making sure he didn't ruin any more of Mr. Mushnik's goods. Audrey watched him approach her, her heart swelled at the care he showed, even to the plants that she'd carelessly discarded on the floor in her clumsy stumbling. It's not until he's stood above her, holding out his hand to help her up, that she realized she’d been silently watching him with heart-shaped eyes like some kind of obsessive creep.

Gathering up the dwindling remains of her dignity, Audrey grabbed his hand, ignoring the flutters of her heart. “Ugh, I’m okay,” she answered, standing up with his help. “Thanks.” Audrey looked around at the mess she made, sighing at the additional work she piled onto her day. She started to pick up the scattered flowers when Harry's fingers brush against hers, reaching for the same yellow tulip, helping clean up the mess of scraps she caused.

Time stood still as Audrey’s eyes met Harry’s, the spark between them freezing everything. These pockets of time they occasionally fell into were the best parts of Audrey’s day. Lost in the maze of Harry’s moss-colored eyes, being lured into a fantasy of the life they could have together.

Their own home, painted baby blue, a white picket fence to protect the garden, and two kids with green eyes that shimmer like Harry’s. Audrey could still work at the flower shop, maybe take it over from Mr. Mushnik, and Harry would finish up his degree and become some important business person like she figured he wanted. They would grow old together, watching reruns of Friends, living inside a paradise of plants and books that Audrey would carve out for the two of them. It could be perfect.

“What’s taking so long?” a voice demanded, accented with the clipping of heels on the tile flooring. Yanking his hand away, Harry jumped back up to a standing position, taking a few steps away from Audrey. Harry’s girlfriend, Tiffany, appears, arms crossed over her chest, her permanent scowl aimed at both Audrey and Harry. “Har-bear, I have to get to the office for Mr. Rosenbaum’s cavity filling and you’re my ride. Hurry up.” She snapped her fingers at him, expecting him to respond.

Audrey never liked Tiffany. It wasn’t the strong perfume that overpowered the shop, or the expensive jewelry she flashed, but the horrific way she treated Harry. Once, Harry came into the shop with his left eye swollen and bruised but he dismissed it, mumbling about some accident but never delving further. But Audrey knew. She knew what he was hiding, who he was protecting.

“H-hi Tiffany,” Audrey stumbled through her greeting as she struggled to stand up, careful to not slip on the water and tumble back down again.

“Oh, it speaks?” Tiffany said, an excited lift in her voice, like when a dog performs a trick on cue.

“Tiffany.” Harry scolded her. Audrey’s heart swelled hearing Harry defend her, conquering his fear of his frightful girlfriend to protect her.

“I’m joking,” she defended herself, a vicious smile overtaking her mouth, her lips curling back like a predator about to strike. “Aubrey gets it, right? She knows I’m joking.” Tiffany’s gaze pierced into Audrey’s chest, daring the drenched woman to dispute her claim.

“Ye-yeah,” Audrey agreed quickly, hoping her rapid response would force Tiffany’s ire off her. She had long given up on correcting Tiffany’s misnaming.

A loud thump caught all of their attention. Tiffany screeched performatively, bouncing in her spot and waving her hands wildly. Audrey rushed out the back, steering clear of Tiffany’s flapping hands to investigate the source of the sound, a nervous inkling of what, or rather, who, could be the cause.

Displayed before the front window, a giant sign with an arrow pointing right at it, sits a bulbous plant, the green head bowed to the ground, its crown of leaves that adorned its stem now drooped in despair. The plant looked dehydrated, a grayish pallor overwhelming its bright hues, the seam that ran up the bud paled from a rosy red into a muted pink. Clear signs of thirst in most flora, but the depressed bulb wasn't fooling Audrey.

“What's wrong with Audrey II?” Harry asked, peering around Audrey to look at the toppled plant. He walked over to the bent head, pinching one of the dry leaves. “When’s the last time you watered her?”

“Uh, this morning,” Audrey supplied, fingering the bandages that adorn her slit fingers. Her pulse beat underneath the fresh cuts, as if tempted by the proximity to the plant. “They um,” she cleared her throat, weary of Harry standing so close to the vegetation, “they had a big drink this morning.”

“That’s odd.” Harry knelt down, patting the top of their head. “What’s going on with you, Audrey II?” he asked the plant, pausing for an answer, not that he had any real expectations of it doing so.

Tiffany came up behind Audrey, scoffing. “Audrey II? Do you have to, like, name every blade of grass or do you just like naming plants after girls you’re not dating?”

Admittedly, Harry had suggested naming the plant pod after Audrey. He said it was meant to honor her and her discovery of a potential new species. Audrey, of course, couldn’t stop her brain from making red stringed conspiracies about other reasons he wanted to name the plant after her. That was before she knew what the thing was.

“Tiff, you told me you would hate to have a plant named after you because they die so quickly.”

“So you remember that but not the fact I hate that nickname? Forget it, I’m taking the bus.” Tiffany’s shoulder knocked Audrey into the retail counter, her hip catching the edge harsh enough to form a bruise. Ignorant to the injury she dealt, Tiffany stormed past, heading for the door.

“C’mon, Tiffany,” Harry trailed after his girlfriend, pausing to turn back to Audrey. “I’m sorry, if I don’t go after her, she’ll make me sleep on the street for a month.” There’s a playfulness to his tone, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, as if he could only partly commit to the lie. For a moment, Audrey worried just how real the threat was. “Try not to knock over anymore buckets,” he joked, dropping his eye into a wink before heading out the door, the bell ringing a more melancholic tune this time.

Audrey had to stop herself from following after him, from making a fool of herself by making some elaborate declaration of her profound admiration of him, of his unlimited kindness, of his gentle nature, of his pure heart. To convince him that, even if he didn’t like her, that he could be doing so much better than Tiffany, that any other person would be so lucky as to experience his affection, his generosity. The scene she’s directing in her head, a light pelt of rain added in for effect, was interrupted by a deep humming sound, patterned like a laugh emitting from the corner where Audrey II sits. A chill runs up her spine, unusual for the humid store, and she slowly turns to look at the pod when the bell rings again, distracting her.

“Welcome to Mushnik’s Flower Shop,” she greeted, a warm smile on her face, the practiced slogan came easy as the plant in the corner quieted their giggling.

Escorting out the final customer of the day, a bushel of bluebells tucked in their arms, Audrey shut the door, and closed down the store. The neon lights stuttered off, the blinds collapsed over the glass windows, and Audrey settled on top of the stool beside the cash register, counting the profits from the day, now left alone in the store. Or… mostly alone.

“FeeEEEEeeed meeEEee…”

That haunting voice, the deep bass that shivered down her spine, called to her from the corner of the room. The plant sang their hypnotizing melody to lure Audrey in. The only saving grace was that she's so lightheaded from previous feedings, she couldn't even stand up to go to them. But that doesn't stop the persistent plant.

“FEEEEEED MEEEEEEE,” they demanded. Audrey turned to face Audrey II, the bulbous head still bent over dramatically, their leaves yellowing at the edges. The decay would be alleviated if only she gave in to their request. It appeared innocent enough, the withered plant asking for food. Yet knowing the truth of it all, knowing what they were asking for, Audrey was less comfortable giving up any more of her blood, no matter what deal the plant offered.

That's how it all started. A promise of saving the shop in exchange for a few drops of blood. It was an easy decision, then. Audrey was practically raised by Mr. Mushnik, and ensuring his shop didn't close down while he was in the hospital was the least she could do. Especially since it was her clumsiness that sent him there, the memory of the flower pots dropping atop his head like in some awful slapstick routine permanently seared in her brain. So with a prick of her finger, the deal was made. Customers were attracted by the new exotic plant, coming into the shop to exclaim about the alluring new attraction, and while they're here, they might as well buy some flowers.

The pod grew, the tiny little bud barely bigger than her thumb now as tall as Harry. They attracted more customers, but they also grew hungrier.

Audrey’s finger wasn’t enough to satiate the growing bulb, now she was forcing open her old wounds and letting the creature suckle on her fingers like a babe to its mother’s breast. Except, Audrey wasn’t harboring maternal feelings for the green parasite. It was strictly a business exchange between them, one that Audrey regretted more each day.

“I’m exhausted, Dooey,” Audrey tried to reason with the plant. The nickname came around after the first feeding, offering some degree of separation from herself and the blood-sucking creature. “I can’t feed you anymore.”

“I’m staaaarving,” they complained, lifting their head up off the ground, giving up on their dehydration facade. Audrey II looked at Audrey, or at least pointed the tip of the bud in her direction. The pink seam that looped around their head opened up to expose a purple mouth rimmed with yellow thorn-like teeth, Dooey vocalizing one long, low note. “AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

“Stop it!”

“Then feeeed meeee!”

“I can’t!” Audrey argued back. “I have nothing left to give, Dooey. Do you want me to die?”

Audrey II scoffed a sigh, not really offering an answer, which concerned Audrey.

“What do you expect? You’re literally bleeding me dry, you refuse to eat meat-”

“Must be blooooood.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“Must be freeesssshhhhh.”

“I don’t want to hear this!” Audrey exclaimed, covering her ears with her hands. It wouldn’t block out the mesmerizing song the plant sang but it gave Audrey some sense of control, a front of perseverance to cower behind.

“Wonder if that BOOOOYY would give in? That pretty one with eyes as green as me.” Audrey spun on her chair to stare aghast at the sentient bud. They took note of this, humming satisfactorily. “Such soft haaaands too. Wonder what the rest of him feels like, hmmm?” They brought an aerial root up, brushing the green stem over their head where Harry had patted them earlier that day, snickering to themselves.

“NO!” Audrey shrieked, tumbling off the stool. Her foot was still wrapped in the supporting dowels so the chair toppled over, the wooden seat knocking into her ankle before crashing loudly against the tile flooring. Falling to her knees in front of Audrey II, hands clasped as if in prayer, she ignored the throbbing pain in her leg and begged. “Not him, not Harry. I’ll do anything, but not him!”

“Feeeeeed meeeee?” Their voice lost all traces of danger, the manipulation morphing into a plea, disguising their intent behind innocuous hunger.

Audrey started ripping off her bandages, picking at the wounds that haven’t yet healed over, scratching at the raw skin, hoping a single bead would pop up but Audrey II’s vines reached up, tugging Audrey’s hands apart.

“You like this boy?” Audrey gave her head a slow shake. “You want him for yourself?”

“More than anything.”

“I can give him to you.”

For a moment, she considered the plant’s offer while they hummed their sensual tune into her ear. Harry, the life she’s envisioned for them, the kids she wanted to give him, the home they would build together, it could all come true, it could all start now. She’s been patient long enough, and, surely, Harry was sick of Tiffany’s treatment. Maybe he just needed a push to get out of that relationship. Could this plant actually remove Harry from Tiffany’s manicured grip, break the spell suspended above him, and place him in Audrey’s warm, safe arms, where he belonged? Could he finally be hers?

A sliver of reality seeped in the cracks of her dreams, breaking her out of the Harry themed fantasy to remind her that there was a cost, a price to pay for her desires. And if her blood was already drying up, if she couldn’t meet the plant’s requirements, then she’d never have Harry.

“Wh-what… what w-would it take?” Audrey’s voice wobbled uncertainly, scared to hear their response.

“Bloooooooooood.” The only possible answer.

“And if I don’t have any more?”

“Then you’ll have to get it… elsewhere,” Audrey II instructed, a fiendish smirk and a deep chuckle heightening the threat.

Looking at the plant bulb, terror bristles up her spine, the implication clear. “You-you want- oh my god, you- you can’t be- you mean-” but all her protests stopped when a piercing but recognizable scream from across the street interrupted her. Grabbing onto the counter edge to help pull herself up, Audrey limped over to the windows, pulling back a corner of the window blinds, peeking out at the commotion.

Across the way, Tiffany stomped her feet, her finger stabbing into Harry’s chest repeatedly. Individual words are impossible to make out, but from her tone, Audrey could tell she’s upset about something. Harry stepped away from Tiffany’s piercing touch but she followed after him to make sure he couldn’t escape from her tirade. Audrey could make out the words “fucking disappointment” before she watched Tiffany grab a bag of fast food from the gutter, throwing the waste at Harry, then storming off, each step pounding loudly. Her heels clipped sharply against the concrete, the sound fading as she left.

Harry delicately peeled the lettuce leaf off his shirt, the mustard clinging to the fabric in thick globules. From the window, Audrey continued to peer upon Harry, spying his little sniffle, the quick wipe of his eyes, then his reluctant return to his apartment building, cleaning burger sauce off his face with one of the napkins that landed on his shoulder.

An unnamable fury rose inside of Audrey, a rage that couldn’t be contained, one that she couldn’t ignore any longer. The idea, heinous and terrible, rooted itself inside her brain. Any doubt she had faded as Audrey II laughed, low and long and loud.

“Got anyone in mind? Hmmmmm?”

“What’s with all the newspapers on the ground?” Tiffany’s clicking heels are muffled with the thick layer of paper layered all over Audrey’s basement converted bedroom. It had taken several newspapers to coat her floor, stealing several editions from around the street in the early morning, stalking the prepubescent newsboy on his rounds. Several versions of the same comic stare up at Tiffany, Calvin repeatedly performing a lobotomy on a pumpkin, stabbing the gourd over and over again.

“Um… insulation? It can get um quite um cold sometimes,” Audrey stuttered through her excuse. She’s still reeling from the unbelievable luck she stumbled into when planning this whole thing.

Before Audrey II first started bringing in customers, Mr. Mushnik thought it would be good promotion to advertise deadly exotic plants, things like hemlock and nightshade, but they didn’t attract attention quite like the big bulb upstairs. Unwilling to admit a business mistake like that, Mr. Mushnik simply hid the lethal flora in the back.

After plucking a few berries, Audrey discovered that if she mashed them up, they appeared no different than common, nonlethal blackberries, especially when they were baked in a flaky pie crust.

Then the only hurdle left to cross was how to convince Tiffany to eat the pie. Luckily, Audrey caught Tiffany that evening, nervously pacing near Harry’s apartment building, her fingers twining around her T-shaped pendant necklace anxiously. Somehow, with the promise of food and a listening ear, Audrey successfully snuck Tiffany into the shop’s basement.

Tiffany’s disgust was plain on her face as she glanced around the room with newfound repugnance, eyeballing the water stained walls and the exposed pipes more critically. “And you live like this? By choice?”

Audrey shrugged, well accustomed to the chilly winters and blistering summers, the mold that regrew every wet spring and the street level window that tinted more brown than orange during autumn’s decaying shift. “It’s not s-so bad,” she defended. “At lea-least I don’t have to p-pay rent, right?”

Snickering at the joke, Tiffany sighed. “Lucky you. I’d have to do some unseemly things to my landlord if I didn’t want to pay rent. I’ve considered it, but I know Harry would have problems with it. And like, he says he’s so sorry that I have to keep paying rent just because he doesn’t want to move in together, but then he tries to control how I pay my rent? Like, either help out or keep quiet, y’know?”

Maintaining her silence, Audrey’s eyebrows raised as Tiffany goes off, lamenting about the various ways Harry disappointed her. Harry’s lack of funds compared to her hefty paychecks, how she hates covering both of their tabs when they go out, the embarrassment she felt when her friends brag about reaching the next milestone in their relationships while hers remained stagnant. She vented about his busy schedule and how it conflicted with hers, how much time he spent studying for his college courses instead of spending time with her. Tiffany was restless in the cramped space, shuffling the newspaper underneath her feet as she droned on about Harry’s failings. Audrey had to crawl atop her bed in order to keep out of Tiffany’s way.

Between Tiffany’s relentless pacing, her distressed voice grating on Audrey’s ears, and the uneaten deadly pie chilling on her tiny table, Audrey’s anxiety evolved into a more vicious dread. The longer Tiffany remained alive, the more Audrey regretted letting her most sadistic desires consume her. How did she ever let herself believe she could kill someone, that she could take a life? How could she let herself be corrupted by a plant? Was saving Harry worth the death of another?

“And I don’t buy that excuse when it comes to Audrey II. Am I interested in being named after a plant, of course not. But to name it after someone else, that’s just disrespectful, right?” Audrey hummed in agreement, stuck in the confounding maze of morality and mortality. “Are men really so dense as to think we can’t get our feelings hurt? Like, I wouldn’t be bothered about my boyfriend naming a plant after someone else?” Still not paying attention to what she’s saying, Audrey simply nodded, trapped within her ethical complex. “Who is Audrey anyway? Isn’t it suspicious I’ve never met her?”

Guilt clenched Audrey’s chest, her lungs tightening as she struggled to breath. Her thoughts are a whirlpool of remorse, and as she sinks lower, those thoughts darken until she couldn't see straight. Clawing at her mind for some relief, looking for some purchase to lift herself out of the suffocating swirl of despair, Audrey gasped for a breath right as a hand lashed across her face. The contact knocked her head aside, the momentum carrying her down to the ground, her hands rubbing raw against the concrete.

“Are you even paying attention?!” Tiffany shrieked at Audrey, towering above her, fury roiling around her like a tumultuous cloud. “Oh my God, why does everyone act like such selfish assholes all the time? Do me a favor and leave me alone!”

Attempting to pick herself back up, Audrey scrambled after Tiffany, her head swiveling between Tiffany's swiftly departing body and the uneaten fatal dessert. “W-w-wait! Wait, don't go!” she yelled. Whether to apologize or to complete the deed, she's not sure why she's chasing after her, Audrey just knew she had to stop Tiffany from leaving.

“Did you not hear me? Stay away from me!” Tiffany threw over her shoulder, already halfway up the stairs. “And stay away from Harry too!”

Audrey froze, those words tilting her axis and she had to grab the stair railing to keep herself upright. “What?” she whimpered, willing her legs to keep moving, to keep chasing after Tiffany. What did Harry have to do with this? Why was she threatening to take away Audrey's only source of happiness, the one man to show her unconditional kindness, the love of Audrey's life?

Tiffany was at the top of the stairs, hand on the doorknob when she spun to look down at Audrey with disgust dripping from her voice despite the proud smirk pinching at her lips. “You think I don't know about your pathetic little crush on him? That Harry doesn't know?”

Gasping like a fish out of water, Audrey was unable to defend herself, to disagree, to argue that that shouldn't mean she had to stay away from him. She couldn't find it within herself to fight back when she knew Tiffany was right. Subtlety was too complicated, she knew her emotions were too easy to read, of course Harry would know about her feelings. And if he knew, then he would've acted on them if he felt the same, right? He chose to be with Tiffany, shouldn't she honor that? Killing his girlfriend wouldn't suddenly make him like her.

“You really think Harry would waste his time with someone like you?” Tiffany sneered. Her head ticked to the side, sensing the open wound. Taking slow confident steps towards Audrey, a predator stalking towards its prey, Tiffany’s grin grew with each vicious word. “Y’know that stupid look you get when staring at him, drooling like one of those disgusting dogs? We always laugh at how creepy it is. ‘Yes, Harry, of course, Harry, anything you say, Harry.’ Do you have any opinions of your own or do you just nod that empty head of yours whenever Harry says something? He doesn’t want to date some vapid idiot who only agrees with him. Harry wants someone who will fight back.”

A memory flashed in Audrey's mind, that day Harry came in with a black eye, angling his head away trying to keep it hidden, an embarrassed flush on his cheek whenever Audrey asked him if he was okay. Faintly, she could hear the deep rumbling of a familiar humming.

“Harry doesn't want some meek little girl. He wants a strong woman who can take care of herself.”

Another memory, of the hamburger bag she threw, the leftover food stuck to Harry's body as he shamefully slumped back to his apartment, accompanied by the music that started to build louder.

“What do you think you can give him that I can't?”

“I would treat him better than you,” Audrey mumbled, her nails digging into her palms.

“Wh-wh-what was that?” Tiffany mocks, now one step above Audrey, still looking down on her. “You can't even speak without st-st-stuttering your way through it. Harry would never waste his time on a nobody like you.”

Audrey realized that this was what she does to Harry, this was the same abuse he suffered through. She honed in on an insecurity, picked at the wound until it bled, then filled the injury with salty lies. Because Audrey knew, without a doubt, that Harry didn't think so little of her. That Harry would stay late after his shift while he worked on his coursework because he found her presence comforting. That Harry's eyes didn't sparkle with affection when he looked at Tiffany, the way they do when Audrey caught his gaze over a customer’s bouquet of flowers. That his beautiful smile that shines brighter than the grow lights, dimples creasing on both sides, was reserved only for those moments between the two of them, no persistent customers, no annoying girlfriend, no overbearing boss, just those moments where Audrey could pretend her fantasies could exist outside her mind, as well.

That's why, when Tiffany turned around, the music reached its crescendo, and Audrey grabbed her ponytail and tugged.

With her head being pulled back, Tiffany's heel slipped backward, off the wooden step, her whole body slipping down at the loss of balance. Audrey sidestepped her falling body, moving in time to miss Tiffany's flailing hands. Her body upended over her head and her neck bent with a loud crunch as it snapped against the stair. She continued rolling down the steps, her body curling into a chunky ball of broken bones and bruised skin before landing with a thud on the ground, one of her heels sliding underneath Audrey’s bed.

It’s quiet in the damp room, the melody from the floor above now muted.

Breathing evenly, Audrey stared down at the body, void of any feelings. She waits, expecting Tiffany to stand up, the undead demon to rise again. But she remains stiff, unmoving. The monster was no demon, just a regular human.

Walking down the steps, reality settled in, dragging Audrey’s body down until she had to sit down on the stairs, letting out a gasping whimper of despair at Tiffany's motionless body. One of her rings snapped during the tumble, her shirt had ripped on one of the loose nails, and the look of terror forever etched on her face stared off at the now useless pie due to the unnatural angle her head had fallen.

“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Oh my God, what did I do? Oh fuck, what did I do?! What am I going to do, what the fuck am I going to do now?!”

Upstairs, a low chuckle answers, arcing up into a bellowing laugh. “I guess it's suppertiiiime. Now get to chopping, I don't like to choke on my meals. HA HA HA HA HA!”

“We’re investigating the disappearance of one Tiffany Martin. Her boyfriend claims she was supposed to come over last night after an argument they had the night before but she never showed up. When’s the last time you saw her?” Officer Menken questioned, his attention entirely absorbed by his notebook filled with kitten doodles.

Audrey kept a watchful eye on Audrey II, the bud upright and brightly colored, a pleasant flowery aroma emitting from the thick head. Even at their full height, Audrey could spot the curl of a smile edging at the seam. Picking nervously at the dry skin, her hands are cracked from how long she spent washing them after… after last night.

The sick crunch of Tiffany's bones echo in her brain, the thick blood painting Dooey’s lips the same dark red as Tiffany’s lipstick, wiping the excess off with their roots and dabbing at their mouth with their leaves like a napkin. When they burped back into Audrey's face, she thought she'd pass out from the disgusting smell of Tiffany's tobacco and vanilla scented perfume combined with raw meat.

“Ma’am, when’s the last time you saw Tiffany Martin?” the officer asked again, still enrapt with his cat art, flicking his pen across the paper for long wispy whiskers on his latest creation. Behind him, Officer Howard sniffed a bucket full of lavender suspiciously.

Clearing her throat, Audrey looked at the bored officer. “I-I saw her a few days ago. I um… I saw the fight. That’s the l-last time I saw her.” She looked back over to Audrey II, her eyes widening in horror as she saw Dooey’s roots stretch out, reaching for Officer Howard, whose nose was buried in some chamomile.

“Did you witness her boyfriend getting violent with her?”

“What?” Audrey was taken aback, astounded at the accusation, while keeping an eye on Dooey’s outstretched root, the growth shivering with tension, out of reach of the officer’s leg. “Harry wasn’t violent.”

“Did you witness her boyfriend displaying any threatening behavior or do anything to make her feel unsafe?” Officer Menken droned on, starting to draw a new cat, this one rounder than the last.

“No,” Audrey insisted. “Harry isn’t like that.”

Dooey used their vines to push against the wall, inching their pot closer to the officer shuffling in front of the flower bushels, pinching a daisy between his fingers skeptically.

“Has she ever confided in you about feeling unsafe around-”

“STOP!” she yelled.

Both officers paused their actions, glancing at each other, both raising a brow at her outburst. Dooey's root froze, grazing the cuff of Officer Howard’s pant leg.

“Harry is the kindest person I know, he would never hurt anyone,” Audrey defended, conviction stabilizing her voice. “She was the one displaying violent behavior, she was the one threatening him. She’s not the victim, Harry is.”

Officer Menken considered her words, mulling them over before adding a long swishy tail to his cat. “And you’re sure he’s not likely to snap and just…” Menken dragged his pen across his neck, making a grotesque throat sound as if he was choking.

Audrey’s face scrunched up in anger, annoyed at the implication, upset at the insult to Harry’s character. Staring down the officer with fiery certainty, Audrey says, “Harry would never hurt anyone, ever.”

“Hey!” Officer Howard exclaimed. Assuming Audrey II had captured their prey, Audrey’s mind was overwhelmed with images of a mauled police officer, the picture very clear in her head. “Hey, isn’t this that plant I heard about on the radio? Audrey II, right? God, she’s a beaut.” Officer Howard pats the bud enthusiastically, the sound bouncing around Dooey’s empty mouth in hollow echoes. “How’d you get it so big?”

It’s then that Audrey realized what had been bothering her all morning, besides the overwhelming sense of guilt from her first murder. It was imperceptible at first, but if she looked around the leaves, if she compared them to the sign, Audrey II had grown. The plant had always displayed unusual growth patterns, bulging in size after feedings, but it was more gradual, a new leaf would grow every other week. Now, two new leaves were budding underneath the expanding head, which had grown several inches since the night.

“Do you use some kind of foreign fertilizer?” Officer Howard asked, inspecting Dooey with less scrutiny than he gave the cut flowers, unsuspecting of the large carnivore.

“S-s-something like that.”

“I’m sorry for him,” Officer Menken sighed, shaking his head as he added a top hat to his art. “Well, if you can think of anything that’ll help our search, just give us a call.” He tipped his hat politely, before calling after his partner with minimal interest. When he didn’t move away from the big bulb, Officer Menken pulled Officer Howard away, chastising his partner for his easily distracted mind.

Once they’ve both left the shop, Audrey approached the door, fingers itching to perform their usual patterns of opening up the store, to pretend like there was nothing different about the day, when she saw Harry across the street, sneaking out of his apartment building and into the alleyway beside it. The rational part of her says to stay away, that Harry wouldn’t want to be comforted by his girlfriend’s murderer.

Her heart, on the other hand, tells her this was her opportunity, that this was why she fed his girlfriend to a plant, that he’s now free and she could reap those rewards right now if she followed after him.

From their spot in the corner, Audrey II encouraged her. “Go GET him, girlfrieeend.”

Without a second thought, Audrey raced out of the flower shop, running into the street, almost getting hit by someone who laid in on their car horn, and chasing after Harry into the alley. “Harry! Hey, wait up!”

She watched him pause, halted by her words before he turned to face her, tears cascading down his snotty, blotchy face.

That’s when it truly hits her, this wasn’t a movie scene, this wasn’t a romance novel. Someone was dead. Someone was dead, and now they were being mourned by their loved ones. Someone was dead, and it was all her fault. Until now, she’d been coasting on the deluded belief that this was all a part of living out her dreams, that this was the cost for her wish to come true. But facing Harry, seeing him grieve the woman currently being digested by the alien plant, knowing she caused him this pain, Audrey couldn’t stop the sob that poured out of her. “I’m so sorry.”

Harry’s face scrunched up in agony before he stepped towards her, his arms wrapping tightly around her as he cried into her neck, his breath panting hotly against her neck. Audrey struggled to breath within his hold. Between his hostage-like grip, his curly hair falling into her mouth, and that stupid animalist side of her that’s distracted by his strong arms and the minty smell of his toothpaste, Audrey can’t tell if she’d rather live here forever or die happily in this moment.

“I don’t- I don’t know what I did,” Harry gasped, shaking in Audrey’s arms, his whispered words thunderous against Audrey’s ear. “She wanted to talk, I thought for sure she was going to dump me, but then… then she never…” He sniffled, whimpering into her shoulder. “The police said to expect the worst. That dentists have a high- a high sui-” Harry couldn’t get the word out, the thought of it forced his knees to give out underneath him. He collapsed to the ground and Audrey fell down with him, holding him together in her weak arms.

“It’s not your fault, Harry,” she reassured him, petting his hair, her nails scraping his scalp in soothing motions. “You are not responsible for what happened.” As his cries eased, Audrey’s hand supported Harry’s head, maneuvering him around until she was staring into his water-logged eyes. “And if she was coming over to break up with you, then she’s a fool.”

Harry shut his eyes, a choked sob escaping his chest as Audrey continued. “No, Harry, listen to me. I-I don’t know where Tiffany might be, b-but she’s crazy for not seeing how lucky she is to have you. Whenever she’s mean, you never fight back unless you’re protecting someone else. You go out of your way to brighten the world, offering whatever little bit of help you can give, even when Tiffany is being impatient and rude, you make sure everyone is happy and taken care of. I know you sneak flowers to kids behind Mr. Mushnik’s back, and you always switch out the prettiest flowers from the bouquet Mr. Nelson orders for his mistress with the ugliest ones, and no matter how many times Tiffany tries to douse that light inside of you, you still shine so brightly on those who need it.”

As she went on, Harry’s eyes dried, his sorrow evaporating into a pensive melancholy, hiccupping with a few remaining sniffles. Audrey brushed his hair away from his face, wiped a stray tear from his cheek, and, unable to hold herself back, pressed a tender kiss to his forehead. “She’s never treated you fairly and all I’ve ever wanted for you was to realize that you are worth so much more than what she gave. You are so brilliant,” she complimented, kissing his forehead again, “and kind to everyone,” kissed his right cheek, “and you deserve all the love you give the world tenfold because you are the best, Harry, you are the best person I’ve ever known and you deserve nothing less than that.” The confession, the feelings she’s bottled up for years, flowed out of Audrey, like the release of a dam, pouring forward all at once.

With her secret revealed, Audrey feels that familiar lick of shame, the humiliation of divulging her unrequited feelings, in an alleyway, ten feet away from a dumpster, the day after accidently murdering his girlfriend and chopping her up into consumable pieces for a talking plant. She started to recede into herself, her head curling into her chest, hands dropping from Harry’s face.

“Audrey,” Harry said in a breath, intertwining his hand with hers, leaning his head forward, his nose nudging at her cheek until she looked back up at him. His mouth opened and closed, the words refusing to come out. Edging closer, Harry’s face was a breath away from Audrey’s, her eyes widened at his nearness. Their lips are so close, but then Harry looked aside, something else catching his attention, a stray thought pulling him away from her.

Crazed desperation gripped at Audrey’s heart, unable to watch Harry turn away from her. In a panic, she grabbed his face, pursing her lips and connecting them to Harry’s. He gasped into her mouth but didn’t pull away. Then she felt him press into her, kissing her back, his lips mushed against hers. Audrey wasn’t sure how long she sat on that disgusting alleyway floor, but that didn’t matter when Harry’s soft lips were on hers, his hand squeezing hers in a relaxed but firm grip. She let out a breath, the barest whimper slipping out.

That sound, the little whine, made Harry stop. He shuddered in her arms, his eyes slowly peeling open, taking in his surroundings. When he looked back at Audrey, a range of emotions swirled in his wide eyes. Relief, regret, joy, guilt, and the culmination of everything he’s felt over the past twenty-four hours boiling over until he swallowed thickly. “I have to go,” he mumbled, staggering up to his feet and scrambling out of the alleyway without glancing behind him, rushing into his apartment.

Despite the abrupt exit, Audrey felt like she was heaven. She kissed Harry. She kissed Harry and he kissed her back. He almost kissed her first. Harry Styles nearly kissed her and when she kissed him, he kissed her back! They kissed, they were kissing! Laughter bubbled up from her chest, giddy at the tingling sensation still pricking her lips. Audrey brought a shaking finger up to her lips, careful to not make contact, afraid it would ruin the effect. Closing her eyes, her hand cupped the space where Harry had been, imagining he never walked away. Alone in the alley, she puckered her lips before letting her tongue slither out, lapping at nothing, waggling in the open air. When her tongue dried out, she retracted it back into her mouth, moaning lowly, the sound vibrating in her chest.

Eventually, she broke out of the daydream, the smell of the dumpster and the sound of traffic reminding Audrey of the real world. Using the wall to stand up, Audrey made her way back to the flower shop, spinning in the middle of the street to look back at Harry’s apartment building with a fond grin, then sauntering to the store. The door opened up automatically and Audrey waltzed in, oblivious to the long vine wrapped around the handle. She sat atop her stool, kicking her feet back and forth, resting her head on her hands as she played the memory on a loop in her mind.

“How’d it go?” The pod asked knowingly, already smiling at Audrey’s blissed expression. “Did you get your man?” While she’s distracted, Audrey II’s vine shut the door and flipped the sign, performing her opening duties without her notice.

“He… he kissed me,” Audrey confessed, her cheeks pinching tightly with elation, still reeling from the encounter. “I can’t believe he kissed me back.”

“You’re welcome,” Dooey said, pride emanating from the bulb. “Maybe next time you feed me, you’ll-”

“No!” Audrey interrupted, fear punctuating her voice, breaking out of the reverie Harry's kiss left her. “No, I’m never going to feed you again.”

Audrey II’s head ticks to the side, their red lips curling in irritation. “Oh REALLY? You’re aaaaallllllll done, are you?”

Scoffing at their gall, Audrey shook her head. “There’s nothing you can hold over me now. You gave me everything I could ever want. I don’t need you anymore.”

Lifting their head up, their leaves adjusting into a regal neckpiece, the growing pod hummed to themself. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

Emboldened by Harry’s kiss, Audrey felt strong enough to fight back against the plant and their voracious hunger when the door’s bell rings. “Wow, that’s such a peculiar plant, where did you get it?” the new customer inquired, strolling up to the quiet bulb. Even with that inkle of concern, worried about what the plant could do now that she stood up to them, Audrey can’t find it within herself to feel bad. She’s about to start living her life with Harry, the one thing she ever wanted. Her dreams were about to come true.

A week later, Audrey felt miserable.

Without their supply of blood, Audrey II was displaying the deeper stages of decay, dried leaves littering the ground around their pot, their vines and roots curling then snapping off like dry sticks, their head tossed onto the ground defiantly. Their enticing floral scent soured into a rotten stench, overpowering the other flowers until they too began to brown and wither from the foul air. Without their bright colors, or their pleasing aroma, customers stopped coming by the store. Most people would eye the shop with nostalgia, remembering the time they bought flowers after being lured in by the exotic pod in the window, sentimental of that day two or three weeks ago. Now, nothing attracted them to the store. The chipped paint on the outside looked too cheap, the neon sign was too distracting and bright when coming home after a hard shift of work, and the lowered prices made people question the quality of the flowers. After a while, Audrey didn’t even have to count the till because no money was being exchanged, no goods were being sold, nothing was happening. It was just like before she'd met Audrey II, except worse on account of Mr. Mushnik's growing medical debt.

Worst of all, she hadn’t seen Harry since they’d kissed. Separated from the event, Audrey can rationalize to herself that maybe it was too early for him to move on, his girlfriend had only been missing for a week, officially. That didn’t mean Audrey's feelings weren’t hurt. Her heart felt like it was entombed in thorns, her eyes were rimmed with tears that never ran, and her lips were as dried as Dooey’s. There was little point in taking care of herself and her chapped lips if Harry wasn’t going to kiss them.

When Harry hadn’t come into the shop for his allotted shift, Audrey didn’t think anything of it, figuring he wanted the space to grieve the loss of his relationship. Then he didn’t show up the next day, and she was worried, going back and forth on whether to stop by and check up on him. The third day she nearly convinced herself to bake a sweet treat for him, but when she saw the uneaten pie sitting on her table, the crust tough and cracked, exposing the lethal filling, a line of dead ants trailing from the dish, she no longer felt in a baking mood.

On the fourth day, Audrey II temporarily gave up on their depression act, their scratchy voice humming the same tune, reminding Audrey of what she could have, with a little incentive of who she could get back. It’s the closest she came to caving, picking at the wounds that had scabbed over her fingers. But the plant bulb was uninterested in Audrey’s dried up dribbles, turning their head away from her pale fingers.

Thus, the two were at an impasse, neither wanted to concede to the other.

After another depressing day of no customers, Audrey heaved a long sigh, just to fill up the time until she could close up. Technically, no one would notice if she were to shut down the store a few minutes early, or a few hours early, but the part of Audrey that had been raised in this store fought against her own better judgement so she remained open until the sun dipped behind the skyline of apartment buildings and business condos.

The final few rays of the sun gleamed into the flower shop, bathing it in a dusty orange glow, the rot camouflaged in the burnt light. Audrey pushed up from her spot on her stool, ignoring the whispered pleas of the plant in the corner. She went to lock the door, when a shadow passed by the shop window, a familiar mop of brown locks catching her eye.

Racing to the door, Audrey swung the door open to see Harry pacing in front of the store, a finger tapping against his lower lip as he pondered over something. One eyebrow raised in quiet contemplation, Harry muttered something to himself before noticing Audrey standing in the open doorway. Surprised to see her, Harry’s hand twitched open and close before he decided on raising it in an awkward greeting. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Audrey repeats, matching his uncertain tone. She’s hyperaware of how good he looks compared to her disheveled state. His curls are freshly washed and styled, his button down shirt tucked neatly into his pants, the air tinged with a hint of his woody cologne. There’s a newly grown mustache crowding his upper lip, trimmed, not a hair askew. Meanwhile she was still wearing the green overalls with a month old mud stain and a shirt that hadn’t seen the wash in just as long, her hair greasy from all the time she spent running her hands through it, and she can’t remember if she bothered with deodorant today. Audrey had to actively stop herself from fantasizing about what the new facial hair would feel like against her lips, beneath her nose, scratching her skin as he kissed down her neck…

“I um… I was hoping we could… talk?” Harry questioned, then scrunched up his face, waving his hand in front of his face. “No, sorry.” He cleared his throat and started again, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. “I wanted to explain myself and apologize for… well for the last week.” Harry’s brows pinched together as he gazed at Audrey, his mouth tight.

“Oh… o-oh okay, ye-yeah, yeah, com-come on in.” The words tumbled out of her mouth like sand, spilling out of her uncontrollably, unable to stop them, unable to think them through. After a week of silence, she’s jumping to worst case scenarios. He’s come to apologize for the kiss, he doesn’t really like her, it was a mistake. She’s terrified of what he’s going to say but her body is already moving to the side, motioning him inside the store.

Harry stepped inside the shop then paused, noting the stark difference from the last time he was there. “What happened here?” he asked, peeking over to his favorite plant’s corner. “Hey, girl. What’s going on with you?” He took a few steps towards the giant bulb.

“Wait!” Audrey yelped, hooking her hands into Harry’s elbow and tugging him back to her side. “They’re, they’re s-sick and I’m working on… on a c-c-cure, but i-it-it’s best if you just st-stay away.”

Confusion twinged Harry’s face, glancing back at the pod then shrugging, appeasing her strange wish. He allowed himself to be led over to the counter, Audrey pulling out a spare stool for him, the one she’d unofficially dubbed as his.

“This isn’t easy for me to admit, so I’d appreciate it if you’d let me get this all out, and then, we can actually talk.”

Swallowing down her trepidation, Audrey nods. Her nails dig into her leg so as to combat the prickling at the back of her eyes, willing the tears to hold out until after Harry’s left.

“I really, really need to stress how sorry I am for not showing up for my shifts this past week. And I understand if you want to fire,” he joked, trying to lighten the somber mood of the room. Audrey shook her head but Harry stopped her from interrupting. “No, it’s fine. In fact, I can’t keep working at the flower shop because I got an offer to spend the next few months as a fire lookout in Oregon.” He gives a little flourish with his hands, expecting a reaction but receiving none. “You can say something now.”

Audrey had to break through the paralyzed fog Harry’s words entrapped her in, blinking through the mist until she could reach forward, her arms wrapping around Harry’s shoulders. “Oh my God, congratulations!” She tightened her hold on him, afraid he’d disappear the second she let go, afraid she’d never see him again. Lingering in his arms for a touch too long, her eyes drift over to the withered plant in the corner.

“Thank you,” Harry said, patting her hip, leaning back from her. Audrey shuffled back to her seat, maintaining eye contact to make sure he didn’t suddenly vanish. “Yeah, I applied months ago, I didn’t really expect anything of it. And, of course, y’know, she used to say it was stupid.” He’s careful with his words when mentioning his ex, denying her of her name was his way of coping with her loss. “I was thinking about what you said, something about her trying to put out my light, and when the offer came in, it hit me. If she were to return tomorrow, she’d still be unsupportive, and degrading, and… and mean. And I could keep living my life in the way that she wanted me to, keep waiting for her to come back, or I could go out and actually do something for myself. So, thank you, for reminding me that she doesn’t control my life.” Harry rested his hand on her knees, squeezing it in gratitude.

The smile Audrey gave Harry felt more like a grimace, her muscles straining to lift her lips. She’s relieved that he doesn’t seem hung up on Tiffany, and she’s flattered he took some of what she said to heart, but her soul burns in anguish, heartbroken at Harry’s impending departure. Audrey isn’t sure she could survive, if she could even breathe if he wasn’t nearby. Filled with pride that he was able to finally see through Tiffany’s perfumed persona, she’s equally dreading what that confidence has wrought. Harry removed his hand from her knee, thinking over his next words, so Audrey used his distracted concentration to slide her eyes back over to Audrey II. The pod appeared inanimate, but a singular leaf sluggishly waved at Audrey, teasing her.

“Last thing is I wanted to apologize about the kiss last week.”

Audrey’s mouth dried out at his words, her throat rough and scratchy. This was what she was most worried about. He regrets the kiss, he’s upset she kissed him, he never wants to see her again.

“I wasn’t in the right head space to handle that when it happened, and I’m sorry for abandoning you in that alley. The truth is… I was a terrible boyfriend to Ti- to her. I was with her, but I never truly loved her. I guess I was just waiting for it to happen, like one day it would all click and I’d suddenly be in love. But that never happened, and the whole time we were together, I was harboring feelings for someone else.” He looked up at Audrey sheepishly, looking at her through the curly tips of his hair, a warm smile tickling at the corner of his lips.

His revelation took a moment to settle in Audrey’s mind, too consumed with despair over a third competitor for Harry’s devotion, until Harry picked up her hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “M-me?”

Shaking his head, Harry chuckled. “Of course. I was crazy about you when we met, but I convinced myself you would never be interested in a guy like me, so I never even tried to pursue anything. But when you held me in that alley, and kissed me despite how much of a mess I looked, I realized that maybe you could love me too.”

“Y-you,” Audrey sniffed up a breath, overwhelmed at his confession, those tears threatening to make their presence known, “you love me?” She can’t believe it, he wanted her, he’d always wanted her.

“No, uh- well, not yet, at least,” Harry explained, laughing at his awkward clarification. “I like you, and I’d like to get to know you better, but I know that the long distance thing isn’t for everyone. What I’m hoping for is that you’ll write to me while I’m in Oregon. We can be pen pals and get to know each other while I’m gone, and if you're still interested, then maybe we can go on a date once I get back.”

Audrey’s relieved she didn’t blurt out her love and adoration for him in that moment, worried her more heightened emotions might scare him off. Now that she experienced what it was like to lose him, she never wanted to do it again. She nods, her hand squeezing his, “I’d love that.”

They smiled at each other, clumsy laughter budding between the both of them, letting the truth of their feelings envelop them inside their own moment. Time seemed to freeze as they enjoyed their knees knocking against the others, their fingers grazing different spots in modest exploration, learning how the other felt.

From the back room, the phone bleated out its ringer, alerting the whole store to the call. Audrey stood up, apologized for the interruption before racing to the landline. On the line, Mr. Mushnik called to announce his release from the hospital, that he was excited to return to work, and based on Audrey’s reports, he had a new idea to revitalize interest in the store.

“Cuttings! We’ll take cuttings from Audrey II, propagate them, then we can sell the mini Audreys. It’ll be great!”

Without raising his suspicions, Audrey tried to persuade Mr. Mushnik away from the idea. “S-sir, Audrey II is actually very sick right now, I’m afraid any cuttings we mi-might take would be too unwell to survive long enough to get sold. Why don’t w-we focus on something else?”

Mr. Mushnik, who never liked an idea that wasn’t his, or that he thought was his, scoffed at her excuse. “Well, we’ll get the plant better, then we’ll make the cuttings, ok? That thing saved my store once, I’ll be damned if I can’t get another revival out of it.” He hung up, tired of arguing with his employee.

Mini Audrey IIs, the idea haunted her, lingering in her ear as she set down the receiver. One talking plant with a petulant attitude and a penchant for blood was too much for her to handle. Multiple? A pod suckling on each of her fingers and toes, becoming a portable blood bag for the shop. And once they were sold? They would only harass others for more blood, all for the promise of whatever their heart desires. They’d be just as easily swayed, just as equally manipulated by the charming little buds.

Audrey could feel panic grip her lungs, the air struggling to leave as she neared an anxiety attack. Grabbing the table where she made flower arrangements, she monitored her breath as she went through her usual mantra. A home painted baby blue, a fenced garden, two kids, a boy and a girl with green eyes and curly hair, Harry in a suit heading in to his office job, Harry kissing her cheek as she makes breakfast, Harry getting a little grabby and Audrey lightly smacking his hand with the spatula, reprimanding him for his Inappropriate behavior in front of the kids, Harry giggling and pulling her back into him, Harry kissing her, Harry kissing her, Harry, Harry, Harry…

The fantasy morphs into recent memory as her panic subsides, no longer having to pretend to know what Harry kissed like. Audrey wet her lips with her tongue, preparing them for action, lubing them up with her saliva.

She was replaying his words when something stood out. He always liked her, from when they first met. Audrey II didn’t win Harry’s affection for her, she already had it. The deal was unbalanced, Audrey had paid for a service she already received for free. Did that mean Tiffany’s sacrifice was unnecessary? As the guilt began to root in her brain, she reminded herself that despite Harry’s affection, he never did anything about it until after Tiffany’s demise. Audrey didn’t know how weird plant magic worked. Maybe the plant commanded Harry to leave his apartment, maybe they told him to kiss Audrey back, or maybe they created the opportunity for Harry to express his feelings by removing Tiffany from the equation by eating her. Either way, Audrey had more proof that her magical plant pod was actually capable of warping things to their heart's desire. All the more reason to make sure no one else could get their hands on one.

Feeling more composed, she walked back out to the front of the store, ready to return to Harry, return to the beginning of the rest of her life. When she turned the corner, she was startled to see Harry standing next to Audrey II, inspecting one of the vines.

“Hey! Whoa, whoa, be careful,” Audrey instructed, jogging over to him to pull him away. The possum routine the bulb adopted made it more frightening than when it was active, the plant lying in wait for their prey, similar to their fly trap brethren.

“Where did you find this?” Harry’s voice is dangerously low, and even though she’s standing beside him, Audrey had to strain to hear him.

“Audrey II? I told you, there was that solar eclipse-”

“Not the plant. This.” Harry held up a gold necklace, a pendant in the shape of the letter T, two diamonds punctuating the tips. His hand shivers as he holds up his evidence to Audrey, the necklace swaying violently between them. “Where did you find this?”

“I-I don’t… I di-didn’t…” Audrey stammered, her head shaking back and forth, unable to come up with a good defense. “May-maybe it f-fell off?”

“No,” Harry insisted. “She made me pay extra to make sure this one didn’t have the shitty clasp, she wore this the last time I saw her, and she never would’ve come in here willingly, let alone near Audrey II. So how did this necklace end up here?!” He gets more agitated as he pressed on, his words clipped, his voice growing louder with distress.

Audrey held up her hands, trying to calm him down but he flinched away from her hands, taking a step back from her. “Ok, o-ok, I’ll-I’ll-I’ll tell you, b-but I did it- I did it for you, ok-k? I j-just wan-wanted to s-sa-save you.”

Harry shook his head, a terrified rage brimming on the surface, his eyes glossy with betrayal. “What did you do?” he murmured.

Her mouth flopped open, unsure of where to start, tears tumbling out of her. “The plant… Audrey II… th-they ate her.” Harry scoffs, disbelief flickering across his face. “N-no, no, no I’m t-telling the truth. Remember when the shop f-first started doing well? It was after we started dis-displaying Audrey II in the w-window right? But then they got sick. And the store stopped seeing business for a few days, remember? Un-until I started feeding them my blood. They said… they said if I fed them, I could keep the store open. But then I was, I was running out of blood. And I saw- I saw that fight between you and T-Tiffany, the one where she threw a hamburger bag at you. I-I-I don’t know, they needed blood, I didn’t have anymore and and it seemed so simple, to just… just-”

“To just murder my girlfriend?!” Harry filled in for her.

“I didn’t murder her!” Audrey justified. “I-I mean, I meant to. No, I m-mean, I was going to but then I wasn’t but then she- God, she started treating me like she does you- like, like she did you.” She ran her hands through her hair, struggling to find the excuses she once believed in. “And I thought I could protect you from her, I thought if she was gone then you’d… you’d…” she trailed off, unable to speak aloud her foulest thoughts.

“You thought what? That if you killed her I’d suddenly start dating you?” Harry accused accurately. “You saw her throw garbage at me and instead of checking on me, you murdered her? What’s wrong with you?”

Audrey gasped for air, her vision blurring from her tears, Harry turning into an amorphous blob in front of her. “I was trying to protect you from her be-because I love you.” It’s her last defense, her final excuse. She hoped it was all he needed to hear to realize that she had good intentions, she did the right thing, she freed him.

“I don’t know you,” Harry stressed. “You don’t know me. How can you be in love with me?”

“I do-”

“What's my major?” he demanded. Audrey couldn't answer him. “When’s my birthday?” She remained silent, shaking her head dejectedly. “You don't love me, you love the idea of me.”

“But she hurt you,” Audrey argued, “she abused you, she gave you that black eye, I wouldn't-”

“What black eye?” Harry interrupted.

“Th-the black eye,” she repeated. “You came in, had a black eye, wouldn’t talk about it-”

“Holy shit, you think she did that?” Harry rubbed his face, groaning into his hands. “I dropped a stupid box on my face and I didn’t mention it because I was embarrassed. But you… you thought she hit me? You thought she was hitting me and didn’t try to talk to me about it? You’re sick, you’re actually fucking sick in the head.” He spun around, storming for the front door.

“Where are you going?” Audrey called after him, her feet following after him.

“Stay away from me!” he yelled. Audrey came to a halt, obedient to anything he wanted. “I’m going to the police and I’m going to tell them exactly what you told me.” His gaze hardened, his sorrow mutating into fury. He took a threatening step towards her, his words firm and strong. “I’m going to tell them about the delusional woman who kills people and uses them for plant fertilizer, that she’s insane and believes a plant can grant wishes, and I’m going to tell them you planned all this because you have some sick obsession with me and then I’ll get a restraining order so I never have to see you again.”

At that moment, Harry fell to the ground, his feet pulled out from underneath him, his breath forced out in one big gasp. Audrey stumbled back at his sudden drop, then saw the vines wrapped around Harry’s ankles, the dried growth dragging him towards Audrey II’s open mouth.

“NO! STOP!” Audrey screamed, running over to the bud, beating on the head with closed fists. “Let him go!”

“Audrey?! What’s- What’s happe- Help!” Harry shrieked, his arms waving around, his nails trying to dig into the tile, trying to find anything he could grab on to.

The bulb doesn’t give in to Audrey’s pounding, their vines hauling Harry even closer. Their lips puckered, their teeth digging into his shoe as he neared. Audrey reached out for Harry, attempting to extract him away from the hungry plant. Harry’s fingers dug into her arm in a vice grip, her own doing the same, horror mirrored in both of their faces.

“Don’t- don’t let it get me!” Harry begged, babbling wildly. “I’m sorry, I won’t tell, I’ll be yours, just stop! Stop! Please, I don’t want to die! I don’t wanna die! Save me!” Harry’s feet disappeared inside Audrey II’s mouth, the pod slurping Harry up like spaghetti.

“Stop it, Dooey!” Audrey ordered, her feet sliding on the slippery floor. “Let! Him! Go!” She heaved his body with each syllable, tugging and twisting him in an attempt to dislodge the plant’s grip. Her weak arms, her shoes with zero traction, are no match to Audrey II’s hidden strength. They sucked him up, their lips crawling up to his hips, his body now halfway consumed.

Harry yelled, a spurt of blood splattering in front of him, some splashing onto Audrey. His grip lessened and his eyes dimmed as the bud gulped down more of Harry’s body.

“No, no, no,” Audrey reiterated. “Harry please, Harry, please don’t-” Her hold on Harry wavered and then she fell back, her ass stinging in pain as she landed on the floor. Picking herself up, she saw the plant gulp down the rest of Harry, the cross on his hand the last thing she saw dip into their mouth. “NO!! No no no no, how could you?!” Audrey screeched, slapping the ground with her hands until they turned red, frustrated tears streaming out of her eyes. “How could you?!”

Audrey II licked their lips, collecting beads of viscous blood from around their mouth and lifted their head up off the floor for the first time in a week. Instantaneously, color flooded the plant, their bud shifting into a vivid green, their lips deepening into a bold red. The wilt and decay evaporated, their crisp leaves now hydrated. “What? I was protecting you,” they say, their words familiar. “He was going to turn you in, remember?”

“So?! He was right! Fuck, he was right. He was right…” Audrey wailed, petulantly slapping her hands against the floor. “And now he’s dead. He’s dead and I can never get him back.”

Between her cries, Audrey heard a sound she hoped to never hear again. That song, that hypnotic melody, the music of a monster ringing in her ears. “There might be a way… for you to be reunited with him.”

She willed herself to be strong, to hold out. Audrey swore she wouldn’t give in to the plant’s temptations, but the promise of Harry, the very thing that got her into this mess, was too seductive to ignore. “How?”

Lowering their head back down to the floor, the bud slowly opened their mouth again, the ballad exploding in volume. It wasn’t just the plant’s voice, underneath their baritone, Audrey could make out two more voices, accompanying, harmonizing with their host. One was high and shrill, the other low and even, both riffing off of the tune. That’s when Audrey realizes what the plant was truly offering. They didn’t want to just eat her, they were giving her a chance, a shot at being with Harry. Her fantasies transformed. A house painted emerald green, with a purple interior, fenced in by a plant, just her and Harry, living happily ever after.

Audrey crawled across the ground, sluggishly approaching the bulbous head. She climbed up into their mouth, her clothes snagging on their teeth. Once inside, Audrey curled onto her side, lying inside, repeating to herself over and over again “It’ll be like falling asleep, it’ll be like falling asleep.” As the pod began to close, their lips sealing shut, Audrey released her final breath, closed her eyes, and waited to join Harry, to begin the rest of their lives together.

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