The Collector

I slammed the door of my apartment, threw the keys onto the cabinet, and marched straight to the kitchen without taking my shoes off. Opening the fridge, I found its desolate interior held nothing but beers—but that was all I needed right now.

I grabbed a bottle and an opener that was always ready nearby. With one quick move, I opened the beer—the cap flew somewhere onto the floor.

“Bitch!” I growled and threw the opener at the desk. I tilted the bottle and emptied its cold contents down my throat in one go.

I swung and hurled the empty bottle at the wall. “Fucking piece of shit!” I shouted as it shattered on impact. There was a dent left in the wall, and glass scattered all around the kitchen.

Fuck it. Who cares?

I grabbed two more beers and moved into the living room. After putting both of them on the table, I threw myself into the armchair. Only after I got comfortable did I realize that I had forgotten to take the opener. Fortunately, I didn't need it—I opened one bottle on top of the other and swallowed a few deep gulps of the beer.

Still panting from anger, I calmed down slightly as the cold drink worked its magic.

“Fucking bitch,” I murmured. Sixteen years of marriage, together for nineteen. I snorted angrily. I had met her when I was seventeen. We had spent more than half of our lives together. And I had been planning to spend the rest of it with her. That's what I promised her during our wedding.

However, it turned out that her promises were worth nothing. Over two months ago, she had announced to me that she was bored with our marriage and wanted a divorce. The worst part of it? She had already found someone new she claimed to love.

As if that wasn’t enough, while I was still in shock, she started telling me about him, as if I gave a damn about this asshole.

Bob—that was her new lover's name—made her feel young and special again. She was praising him while I was devastated, thinking about the end of our marriage and how it would change my life.

The moment she admitted to cheating on me, I knew I wanted a divorce and to forget about this bitch immediately. Unfortunately, we had legal matters to take care of. Today, at last, was the final time I would ever have to see her.

I finished the second bottle of beer and this time put it down on the ground. Grabbing the third one, I brought it to my mouth, ready to open it with my teeth, but my eyes fell on the table that stood next to the armchair. My wife—no, my ex-wife—had bought it. I placed the neck of the bottle at the table's edge and hit the cap with my palm. I opened the bottle while tearing off a small piece of the table.

I drank a few gulps while staring at the damaged table. Today was the last meeting with the lawyers to sign the papers. Everything should have gone smoothly. I was supposed to close this chapter of my life. I was ready for that.

However, I wasn’t ready for one thing—that bitch brought her new lover with her. It was the first time I had seen him.

He was young, handsome, and athletic—details I had already known from her stories about him. He was ten years younger than us. Stupid bitch, falling in love with someone so much younger than her and thinking she would be happy with him.

He would have his fun with her, but sooner or later he would get bored and get rid of her like trash. How long would he last with her? Three years? Five? She would get old soon, and he would realize that he prefers someone younger. I smiled with satisfaction growing in me—she would be facing the same situation I was in now when he got rid of her to find someone else.

“Karma, bitch,” I murmured between sips.

My smile faded from my face as memories from today resurfaced in my mind. I squeezed the bottle tighter in my hand. The presence of her lover wouldn't have been so bad if he had just fucking sat there and observed. Then everything would have been alright.

However, he came there with a completely different plan. He hugged her constantly, kissed her endlessly, and kept his arm around her while holding her hand. And through it all, he stared straight into my eyes with that smug smile. He was flaunting the fact that Fiona was his now, that he’d taken my woman, and he was damn proud of it. As if that somehow made him better than me.

I drained the third bottle of beer and set it on the ground. If the lawyers hadn’t been there, I would have wiped this grin off his face. I was ten years older and not in the shape as I used to be, but I could still beat this loser. When I was his age, I worked as a bodyguard, trained Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu for four years, and spent another four on Krav Maga. Maybe it has been over a decade since my last training, but I could still have him on the ground in seconds. He wouldn't even know what hit him.

Fortunately for him, because of the lawyers, I had to sit there for over an hour and watch his show as he flaunted what he had taken from me. I got up and moved to the fridge to grab more beers. That was the plan for the rest of the day—drink until I fell asleep and forgot about this slut and her new boyfriend.

The glass crunched under my shoes as I was pulling beer from the fridge. When I closed it, my eyes shifted to the flyer that was attached to it. It was from a nearby pizzeria. Fiona had always done the shopping and cooking. Now it was easier to pay someone to do it for me, rather than take care of it on my own.

“Matiw!”

I turned in place quickly.

I was alone in the kitchen but heard a feminine voice. The window was closed, and the walls in this building were thick, but it didn't sound like something from behind the wall. It sounded like someone spoke just behind me. Unsure what happened, I turned back toward the fridge. It was impossible that three beers could make me hear things.

“Zaret senein iwope inm ceizd iw.”

I turned even quicker this time, certain that the voice was coming from somewhere in the kitchen. The bottle of beer slipped out of my hand when I saw the woman standing in front of me. Or rather, something that looked like a ghost. She was semi-transparent. I could see the wall behind her through her body.

While I was staring at her, her figure was slowly becoming clearer, and after a few more seconds, she looked like a normal person. Except nothing about her was normal.

I’m not sure where to start describing her unusual look—everything about her was extraordinary. She was tall and slim and had a gorgeous face, like a model from a magazine’s cover, but already after all the computer corrections. She had flawless skin, to the point it looked unnatural, as if she had put a ton of makeup on herself, but I could see it was her natural complexion.

The most ordinary thing about her was her long blonde hair, cascading all the way to her waist. She had large blue eyes, a small, cute nose, and dark pink lips that gave her an almost doll-like appearance. Thin-framed glasses perched on her face, only adding to her charm.

Her clothes looked like a costume for Halloween. But after a second glance, I realized it was more like a costume of a female wizard character in a video game. It looked like a cosplay of the highest quality.

A black dress that looked like a corset with golden decorations hugged her body tightly, but it ended just below her tits, which were barely covered by additional material. They were huge, easily bigger than her head, yet still round and gravity-defying. The little bit of semi-transparent lace barely hid her nipples and made them look mouthwatering on her small frame. I couldn’t help staring at her fully exposed cleavage, which made it hard to focus on anything else.

Reluctantly, I shifted my gaze lower. At her waist, the corset transitioned into a skirt with frills, first black, then purple. However, calling it a skirt was an exaggeration—the material was so short that I could see all of her thighs. I was sure that if I had stood just a few steps farther back, I could have seen her crotch.

Her thighs were shapely with flawless skin. I wanted to grab and squeeze them as I spread her legs in front of me. My eyes shifted lower to her black shoes that reached past her knees, finished with lace material that clung tightly to her body. I wondered how she could put something like that on.

My gaze jumped to her hands, where she wore black gloves with exposed fingers that transitioned into lace material on the wrists and ended in the middle of her forearms.

She also wore a short purple cape that definitely didn’t hide her ass, paired with a purple hat perched on her head that practically screamed "witch."

My eyes shifted back to her face. I didn’t know how long I stood there ogling her body, but she waited for me to finish, smiling.

There was only one reasonable explanation for this situation—it was a dream. Three beers shouldn’t have put me to sleep, but perhaps the visit to the lawyers had been more taxing than I thought.

I was certain of one thing—I didn’t want to wake up.

Smiling widely, I took a step toward her, considering whether I should leave her in this dress when I fucked her or rip it off her body.

The woman in front of me smirked.

“Ein kat okbyzs.”

I reached out to her, but my hand met resistance. I pushed harder, only to feel something solid—like an invisible wall separating us. Pressing my palms against it, I moved along its surface. It was real, an actual barrier that kept me from reaching her. I stared at the woman behind the barrier, easily the most gorgeous I had ever seen.

It wasn't a dream.

It was a nightmare.