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Dave Strider has a monster in his closet.
But, y’know, he’s cool with it. Ain’t going to go bitching about it like a baby. The monster doesn’t ever really come out, anyways, so as long as it stays in his closet then it’s all chill. All the monster does is giggle a lot and make obscene sniffing noises, so it’s more like having a greasy old creep who just got locked in the girl’s locker room than an actual monster in there.
Wait. No. That isn’t any better. Actually, it’s sort of gross.
One night he decides to open the closet door and actually see the monster. Maybe take a picture or two, send them to Egbert so he can cream his little panties over it. That’d be right up his alley.
The monster is tiny and sharp. It actually looks a lot more like a girl than a monster, but a really weird girl with fangs and horns.
“Hello, delicious human!” She greets. Her voice is very high and stretches into his ear like frozen taffy.
“You a monster?”
“Well, duh.” She stands up and walks out of the closet, barely five feet tall and with these stupid TV-antennae horns poking out of her head. The horns make her seem a lot taller, or like she’s wearing opposite stilts. Dave walks back to his bed and sits down.
“That’s pretty cool. So do you just spend your time sitting in my closet?”
She sits down next to him. Her bones poke out from her skin in weird ways. In both her hands, she seems to be lacking a metacarpal and there are ridges along the sides of her neck. Weird monster bones.
Dave doesn’t speak to the monster for a while, and she seems content to sniff at things. He wonders what this means. Should he be freaking out? Like, this is an actual monster here, isn’t that important? Maybe wake Bro up, call some science journals or CNN, and send the monster off to a lab or a court.
Nah. That just isn’t nice. He’ll just let her stay here for a bit, or for as long as she likes.
“Can I taste them?” She asks after a while. Her teeth make crisp clicking noises against each other, thick and glossed as wet peppermint candies.
“Taste what?”
“Your human eyes.” She makes this weird sound. It takes Dave a moment, but he realizes that it’s a laugh. “I want to taste your eyes.”
His initial response is to tell her nope, sorry girly, these peepers are off limits. He doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything at all, actually. For reasons unknown and unfathomable, he stays quiet. She bunches her legs up onto the bed and leans over his lap.
Dave sees eel teeth. Dave sees the longest, slickest tongue. Dave sees spiderleg-thin black lips laced in scars as they close over his domed cornea and the long, slick tongue presses along his iris. It’s weird and a little uncomfortable and her candy teeth nudge his eyelids open. The monster makes this weird purring vibration that shakes itself over the tip of her tongue.
Dave learns his eyes are ticklish.