Beneath My Exterior

Prologue

I always knew that there was something very wrong about Andrew. The way he moved, the way he spoke, even the way he breathed always troubled me.

Andrew had a secret.

I could see it in his eyes. His eyes, the colour of honey. Sometimes, as they glistened in the sun, it was as if they were made up of tiny hexagons, like sticky honeycomb in a beehive. Andrew had beautiful eyes. But not beautiful enough for me to see right through them and into his brain.

"Are you all there, Andrew?" I asked him once, as we lay side by side on the oval outside of school. Andrew smiled showing his perfect white teeth and rolled over to pluck a daisy from the dirt.

"You tell me." He replied, his voice just as perfect as the rest of him. I reached over to stroke his smooth shaven cheeks. His skin never felt normal, either. Andrew never went without a shirt, but even the skin of his hands felt too waxy. I often asked myself whether I was dating the son of a plastic surgeon. Andrew never introduced me to his parents, though. He was an orphan, living in an apartment of his own in the town square. Andrew never showed me inside the apartment.

Everyone thought Andrew was the perfect man for me. I mean, how could they not? Andrew was everything a girl could ever dream of. He had the body of an angel, eyes like liquid gold and the sweetest, gentlest smile. If only he were different.

"Do you love me?" Andrew asked often. I'd always smile warmly, nod my head and let him cradle my smaller body in his strong, sturdy arms. His chest was warm; comforting.

"Of course." I'd whisper into his sweater.

And I really meant it. When Andrew and I would pass notes in class, he'd write soppy little things, like 'love you', and without hesitation, I'd reply with the classic 'me too', or <3. Life was perfect with him in it, like a dream I didn't have to wake up from. So perfect that I didn't notice the warning signs. I'd never even entertained the idea that my relationship with Andrew was built on a lie.

One evening, a few months after we'd been dating, Andrew took me to the park, where we'd always sit together for a picnic on the hill. He sat down cross-legged in front of me and I could see that he was taking deep, slow breaths. I touched his hand and asked if he was okay. Andrew met my eyes with his honey ones and for a moment I could have sworn there was something beneath them, but then it was gone. It was as though someone had snapped their fingers and turned out the lights.

"You love me, right, Kristen?" Andrew had asked. I always wondered why he was so fixated on that question. Every time, I'd provide the same answer, and that night was no different.

"Always." I whispered, leaning forward as though to hug him. Andrew pushed me away gently, and I frowned.

"Kristen." He said in a much softer voice, his head angled into his lap.

"Yes?"

Andrew took another deep breath, scratching the back of his neck in thought. Finally, he met my eyes again. "Would you... love me if I looked any different?" He asked me, sounding very serious.

"W-What do you mean?" I'd questioned almost instantly. Andrew had never asked me anything so strange before. He reached down to the grass, and plucked a dandelion from the soil. I watched his usually steady hands tremble as he held the flower between his fingertips.

"I mean, if I looked... different on the inside, would you love me?" He said.

I remember giggling at his comment, as naive as ever. "How could you look any different? You're the most handsome guy in school!"

Andrew relaxed a little at my words and his shoulders slumped. "Please don't be afraid." He whispered, the sentence catching in his throat. I wondered what was wrong, but before I could ask, Andrew went completely still. His body froze cross-legged, with his mouth half open in mid-speech. It was as if someone had pressed pause on a TV remote and stopped him completely.

"Andrew?" I reached out to touch his shoulder. "What's going on—"

The words died in my throat, as Andrew's shining honey yellow eyes flickered like headlights and snapped off. Hollow, glass panels stared back at me. Almond shaped windows that were nothing like eyes.

I screamed.

"Please Kristen... it's okay." Andrew said, but his mouth didn't move in time with the words. In fact, it didn't move at all. I crawled away from his robot-like body, my heart fluttering in my chest. Andrew sat frozen in front of me. "Wait, Kristen please!" His voice sounded again, through a mouth that wasn't his own. Was he having a seizure? Honestly, I probably would've believed that, if not for what happened next.

Suddenly his neck began to glow a soft, white colour. There was a faint hissing noise and the skin parted halfway up Andrew's neck...

The creature that emerged from the severed head smiled sheepishly across at me. "Do you still love me, Kristen?" He asked in a voice which was an exact replica of Andrew's.

I screamed.

I screamed until the police arrived and asked me what was wrong. My throat was raw by the time I finally stopped. But when I pointed to the place where Andrew had been, he was gone. The body and the creature had disappeared.

I screamed again.

All the way to the hospital.

****

And in the distance, a figure with eyes the colour of honey stood. He looked down at his muddy converse for a minute, sighing, before turning on his heels and letting the night swallow him up...