The dim glow of a single red lamp bathed Selena Gomez’s bedroom in a haunting light. On her wall, above silk-draped pillows and velvet sheets, hung a massive poster: “KNIGHT TIME”—bold, gothic letters over an image of Joe Jukic in a sleek black suit, standing like a king without a throne.
Selena lay on the bed, staring up at it, her fingers tracing imaginary lines in the air. She bit her lower lip, her mind spinning. Joe—Nelly Furtado’s trophy husband—was an enigma. A knight in an age of disposable men. He was untouchable, unshaken, while she… she had to settle for Benny Blanco.
Her eyes flickered toward Benny. He sat at the foot of the bed, scrolling his phone, oblivious. He never noticed the way she looked at that poster.
But tonight was different. Tonight, she was hungry.
Selena shifted, stretching like a panther, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. “Benny,” she murmured, her voice syrupy sweet.
He looked up, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”
She crawled toward him, slow and deliberate, her lips curving into a smirk. “Do you love me?”
Benny chuckled, scratching his head. “Uh… yeah? Obviously?”
She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming. “Would you do anything for me?”
“Of course,” he said, but the hesitation was there.
“Good.” She smiled. “Then let me love you… completely.“
Before he could respond, her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him back against the headboard. Her eyes darkened, pupils expanding. Her breath came in slow, controlled waves.
Benny laughed nervously. “Sel? You’re acting kinda—”
And then her jaw unhinged.
Like a serpent, her mouth stretched impossibly wide. Her teeth, small and sharp, gleamed in the dim light. Benny’s scream barely left his throat before she devoured him whole, her body expanding to accommodate his form. His phone clattered to the floor. The room fell into silence.
Selena sat still for a moment, her belly unnaturally rounded. Slowly, she licked her lips, exhaling a deep sigh of satisfaction.
She leaned back on the bed, tracing a finger across her stomach, feeling the faint movements inside—twitching, then stillness.
Her eyes drifted back to the “KNIGHT TIME” poster.
She licked her lips again.
“One day, Joe,” she whispered. “One day.”
She turned off the light.