Hot for Slayer

by Ali Hazelwood

I did have a bit of a parasocial relationship going on with him, despite us having exchanged a grand total of two dozen words, most of which were some variation of die, monster, and no, you die first.

what’s a girl to do when the only constant presence during the last millennium of her life has been a guy who’s contractually mandated to murder her?

(Regrettably, I cannot recommend growing up in a small nunnery located in eighth-century East Anglia.)

My motto is: If I have to suck someone dry every few weeks, why not make it a Goldman Sachs executive?

I’ve known him since before the 1100s. I still remember his dumb Crusade outfits.

“The two things might be unrelated, but I noticed fewer rats in places with more hot dog carts”

I once took a sip of a bonobo, and hurled intermittently for the following six months. Our species has a clear case of hot-girl tummy, and I’m grateful to the twenty-first century for giving us a final diagnosis.

“It was one-sided,” he tells me after he’s done chewing. “From you.” “What?” “The dislike.” “I assure you, it was not.” “And I assure you, when I look at you, I feel anything but that.”

“I just hope you have nice feet.” “Why?” 49 “You’re going to have to sell lots of pictures of them to afford a divorce lawyer.” He hums, patient, clearly confident about the state of his toes.

Oh my God. Is that a stake in his pocket, or is he just glad to see me?

“I might not remember my name, or anything about who I am. But I could never be near you and not know exactly what you are to me.”

“If I asked you why I’m so good with a knife, would you tell me that it’s because of my pest control background?”

“There is nothing that I could discover about you, or about myself, that would make me want to do this any less.”

“I know your smell. I know your skin. Your hair. It’s all familiar. I have it all memorized. And I dream of you—of this. So many dreams, all so different, we must have done it a million times, in a million different ways. Tell me what you’re hiding from me, let’s get this over with, and then let’s do it a million more times.”

“Aethelthryth, nothing would make me happier than having you with me here, or in any other place that I will call home, for as long as I live. Please, come in.”

I start laughing. And laughing. And laughing. Lazlo lifts his head to glare at me. “Glad to see that you find the most meaningful moment of my life hilarious.”