The Unwilling Chosen One

 

Being among the Chosen was an enormous hassle.

Enormous.

Was there a criterion for ‘Chosen-ness’? Or was it random?

Being one of the elect, Viola initially thought it was random, but her innate ability to see monsters and shoot a bow was enough to invalidate her theory.

It would have been random if she could see them but not kill them; the opposite was impossible, but it wasn’t, so however strange, there had to be some criterion.

Besides, she had been clumsy as a child, as a teenager, as a young woman, and as an adult woman—clumsy in everything except archery. She could hit them right in the chest, at stomach level, if they had one, and she was infallible. Never took a lesson.

She had killed almost all the monsters she encountered. Almost, because sometimes she didn’t have her bow with her; she couldn’t carry it everywhere. At first, she kept it in a cardboard tube, but extracting it quickly and easily was difficult, so she opted for a nylon bag.

If she could carry it crossbody with the quiver on her back, it would have been perfect in terms of time and movement efficiency, but it was impractical. The arrow was just one: big, heavy, made of dark wood, the tip looked like one of those small rockets from cartoons.

Another Chosen one had given it to her, also fed up with the ‘mission,’ if it could be called that. Because, in the end, they couldn’t take for granted that they were in the right; for all they knew, monsters attacked people who might deserve to leave early.

Sure, they were ugly, monstrous in fact, but if one wanted to be picky, even angels weren’t beautiful—they appeared to men in a... well, toned-down version, to prevent them from losing their sanity.

If they existed.

Viola thought they did; monsters existed, right?

Monsters. The word ‘monster’ for Viola was tied to childhood—the monster under the bed, in the closet, in the basement—and she now found it a rather unserious word, especially since the monsters she killed for some reason couldn’t attack her, and had never posed a threat, just a gigantic nuisance.

Anyway, the wooden arrow had been carved by the exhausted Chosen to meet his needs, and when his bow broke, under unclear circumstances, he decided not to repair or replace it, so he gave the arrow to her.

He had done his part; he was done.

And now Viola had taken a couple of months off, or at least hoped they were. She had rented a single-story house, more of a bungalow than a house, in a lakeside town where she hoped to have a bit of peace.

Monsters were everywhere, but they tended to concentrate in metropolises or more populous towns than the one she had chosen, where the availability of human material was higher. She thought she would have to eliminate at most a couple a week instead of the usual six or seven.

So far, she had been lucky; she had been there for four days and hadn’t crossed paths with even one. She set the wicker basket on the table to see if Serafino intended to accompany her to the supermarket. The cat looked at her for a handful of seconds, then turned his back and jumped onto the sill of one of the oval windows, where he curled up.

It had rained for two consecutive days, and everything not covered in grass or moss had turned to mud. Fortunately, in the bungalow, she had found a pair of orange rubber boots, which she wore, along with her lilac windbreaker, and gathered her hair in the gray-green waterproof hat, also a gift from the bungalow.

When she went out, it was drizzling lightly, and it might stay that way long enough to do the shopping. As far as she was concerned, the heavens could open up after that. Viola just wanted some time and space and peace, without people to save.

It was mid-afternoon and the sky was overcast, but some stubborn sun rays managed to pierce the low clouds, creating pale plays of light on the still water of the lake.

Fola was a small beautiful town, and Viola thought she’d like living there: there was water, greenery, a reasonable number of inhabitants, and, at the moment, zero monsters. Sure, she’d need to find a job, but that was the easy part, because there was a tight support network among current and former Chosen ones, and also because, perhaps as a kind of compensation for the thankless task entrusted to them, Chosen ones were lucky at games.

The rare times she had almost been broke, she’d buy one of those scratch-off lottery tickets and win the amount she needed. That’s how she’d paid for the vacation.

The supermarket was a small cream-colored building in the middle of a half-empty parking lot. She grabbed a cart and went in.

Once upon a time, she would have brought the bow too, but she decided it was dangerous; she risked hitting people who suddenly appeared because they couldn’t see the monsters. If she spotted a monster, she had to be patient and follow it until the right moment, avoiding letting it know she saw it.

Fortunately, they only attacked in the dark; unfortunately, if the attack succeeded, the prey was doomed. Viola had known an elect who would cut himself with a razor if she failed the hunt and tattooed a star if she took down the monster, thus turning her skin into a battered map of the sky.

She was less devoted to the ‘mission’; she considered she had taken down all the monsters she had spotted.

If she had missed some... well, perfection didn’t exist.

She pulled out the shopping list Ilaria, her best friend, had dictated to her with a voice message, worried that she was eating only pre-packaged meals, then she would send her videos on how to cook the ingredients she bought.

She was debating between two types of tomatoes, different according to the tag, because they looked identical to her and to the rest of the tomatoes she had in front of her, which had even more names, when she saw him.

He was tall, quite a bit since she was tall herself and, roughly speaking, he towered over her by a whole head, and he was imposing, almost like a rugby player.

He had light hair and a beard and looked like he had stepped out of one of those illustrated books on mythology for kids. Nordic mythology in his case.

He was moving quickly through the fruit and vegetable section, and since Viola didn’t even remember the last time she found a man attractive, she abandoned the tomatoes and followed him.

Her intentions were vague, but she wanted to keep an eye on him while she cleared her thoughts and... how annoying! She thought, tapping her foot on the ground.

There was someone else keeping an eye on him, someone whose intentions were far from vague.

She caught a glimpse of him sideways—a greenish figure, mucus green to be precise—walking close to the shelves.

The Chosen who had given her the arrow had called them Clumps. They were of various sizes and their skin looked like green jelly, bubbling with protuberances that burst to quickly reform.

The Clump following the object of her interest was thin, almost emaciated, which explained why it had chosen such a formidable prey; it needed it to grow.

To study it, she had to let it pass, so she let a couple of carts go by and followed behind.

The Clump had now sat on the edge of the cart closest to the man. Clumps were invisible to normal people but occupied physical space, and if one bumped into them, they absorbed the impact to the point where it felt like swerving or tripping; from there, Viola had deduced their attacks were targeted because it would be easier to attack someone with whom they had had a casual contact, someone who had bumped into them, and yet, no, they had precise targets.

The Clump that was following might seem frail, but if it attached itself to the man, it would drain his lifeblood with the efficiency of a giant leech.

And that was an eventuality Viola wanted to avoid.

She generally wanted to avoid it, but in this case, even more so.

The man turned in the opposite direction of the cart where the Clump was sitting, which jumped down and continued to follow him on foot. Viola tailed them at a short distance.

For Clumps, the only way to detect a Chosen was to realize they were being watched, so Viola had developed an almost infallible peripheral vision, which she used to follow and approach them without being noticed.

In the meantime, the man had stopped to talk to a woman with long eyebrows and a large smile, and Viola had brushed against the Clump with the cart; she was quick to look away and focus on the cans of dog food.

The Clump sat at the man’s feet, so close that he bent down a couple of times to scratch his calf. To prevent further contact, Viola bumped the Clump with the cart, keeping her gaze fixed on the ‘Pet Supplies’ sign hanging above the aisle.

The Clump jumped up and gave her an angry grimace; even out of the corner of her eye, she saw its face contort.

The man turned towards her, and she blushed slightly because up close, he was even more handsome and raised a hand to apologize for coming up so close to him.

They spent about ten strange seconds while the woman continued talking about a dog or a cat and an allergy, when the man widened his eyes. "It's been so long that I almost didn't recognize you," he said enthusiastically to Viola. "How are you? And how is Ares? His limp should be completely healed now."

Viola sensed from his gaze that this was not a case of mistaken identity; he was looking for a way to detach himself from the woman.

She removed her hat, letting her hair fall messily over her shoulders, and smiled. "Ares is doing great. He jumps like a grasshopper," she replied. "I've thought about you often," she added, touching his arm. Might as well make the most of it, right?

He was indeed a very handsome man and had a kind demeanor. He looked into her eyes and drew her close, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in a gentle, almost ethereal hug. He brought his mouth to her temple, pretending to kiss her and whispering a barely audible thank you.

Touched, Viola held the hand that rested on her shoulder.

"We grew up together," he explained to the woman, who smiled while unsuccessfully trying to hide her annoyance.

"If you’re free, I’d like to invite you to dinner," Viola proposed. "I’m only staying for a few days."

The man's smile was both amused and grateful. "I’d love to," he said, then turned to the woman. "Do you mind if we do it another evening?"

She minded, and she didn’t make much of an effort to hide it, but managed a half-smile. "Don’t worry. I’ll bring Bobo for his check-up tomorrow. Have a nice evening," she mumbled, walking away, irritated.

"Thank you, you saved me," the man said to Viola. "I didn’t know how to get out of that situation."

"You're welcome," she replied with a smile, catching a glimpse of the Clump watching them.

"I could repay you by treating you to dinner," the man continued.

Viola snapped out of her thoughts and followed her inspiration. "I was actually buying the ingredients," she explained. "Since I hate cooking, a friend sends me videos, and I also hate videos because I struggle to keep up." She continued in front of his amused expression, "Can you cook?" she asked hoping to skip some steps.

The physical proximity and the scent of his skin had intensified the attraction she felt for him. But above all, if he accepted, it would be easier to deal with the Clump, who would follow them, lurk outside the bungalow, and, once darkness fell and the lights were out, would attack.

But at least this time Viola would be playing on home turf.

That was if the man returned her attraction; otherwise, the roles would be reversed, and she would have to follow the Clump and wait for the right moment.

After all, she was on vacation and wanted some peace.

"Before accepting the invitation to your house, I think it’s better to introduce myself," said the man. "My name is Daniele," he said, taking her hand with a firm and warm grip.

"Viola," she replied.

After reluctantly releasing her hand, he glanced at her empty cart, and Viola blushed. She could have been honest and told him she was following him if he hadn’t just used her to get rid of another suitor.

"It’s just that all the tomatoes look the same, and I got discouraged." Since they were in the pet food aisle, she added, "So I thought I’d start with the cat’s dinner."

Daniele continued to look at her with amusement, and she felt reassured.

"What I picked up is enough for a dinner," he said. "Check if everything is to your liking."

"It’s perfect," Viola declared, trusting him. She didn’t really care; she just wanted to get out of there and go home, hoping Daniele wouldn’t need to make any more stops.

She grabbed from the shelf four cans of the only brand Serafino deigned to eat and tossed them into her cart.

"Who is Ares?" she asked as they headed to the checkout.

She was amused by the situation; it was the first time she had invited a man to her home so spontaneously and especially the first time a man she liked enough to prompt her to do so.

"Ares was my first patient; he injured his paw jumping off a wall. He was a somewhat silly German Shepherd."

A veterinarian—Daniele’s appeal increased even more in Viola’s eyes.

"Was he?" she asked.

"Yes, it’s been at least 25 years," he replied.

"My cat sometimes pretends to be dead," Viola said, and Daniele burst out laughing.

"And have you figured out why?" he asked.

She shrugged and replied, "It’s just a quirk of his."

In truth, Serafino pretended to be dead when it was time to shoot the arrow; they had a perfect rhythm.

"That’s how we met," she started to explain. "He was lying on the sidewalk. I bent down to check on him, and he jumped up, scaring me to death. He stayed with me since then."

The story was true; she had just avoided mentioning the Clump, who was still following them.

After passing through the checkout, they stepped out into the parking lot, enveloped by a layer of humidity; the asphalt was wet, a sign that there had been another downpour.

Daniele stopped and looked at her questioningly. "Are you here by car?" he asked.

"No, I don’t have one," she replied. "The house is not far."

A brief silence followed, an uncertain silence that Viola, assuming that it might also be an unusual situation for him, decided to break immediately. "If you’re free, we can go directly to my place."

He gave a relieved smile. "I’m free, but after leaving the clinic, I came here, and I really need to freshen up."

Indeed, he had a whole day of work behind him, plus the heat and humidity.

But Viola couldn’t, and especially didn’t want to, lose sight of him; the Clump wouldn’t.

"Let’s pretend we really grew up together," she said, placing her hand on his arm. "In that case, having a shower at my place would be normal, right?"

Daniele hesitated for a moment. "I suppose so," he replied.

He was probably wondering what the rush was, but he was willing to proceed.

They reached his car, a metallic green four-door with a checkered roof, with the Clump at their heels.

Viola knew he would follow them, either running, jumping, or clinging to the car. And even if he lost them on the road, he would find them with his supernatural tracking skills.

And for the first time, besides the usual irritation, she felt fear.

She needed to deal with him as soon as possible.

“Everything alright?” Daniele asked.

Viola snapped out of it: “Yes, it’s just that I might seem impatient but... but I am.” she admitted.

He burst into laughter: “Well, so am I, and if you want to know, I’ve never taken a shower at someone else’s house before... having dinner.”

The brief hesitation in finishing the sentence gave her a jolt to her endocrine system, making her forget about the Clump for a few seconds.

“And speaking of which, maybe we should break the ice completely.” he added, brushing her face.

Viola felt a pang in her lower abdomen; she would have liked to warn him that she was a bit rusty, although that might seem strange given the situation, but why waste time on words? He’d notice eventually.

His beard tickled her face, his lips were soft, and his mouth had a hint of sweetness and freshness, like sorbet; Viola ran a hand through his hair and down to his neck.

She was on fire and sitting on the affected area was becoming difficult.

Maybe she wasn’t so rusty after all, because he was reluctant to let her go.

But they needed to move, the Clump had sat on the trunk and was watching them.

She could see him in the rearview mirror, and she had to be careful not to make eye contact with him.

“Let’s go.” she said: “The place where I’m staying is spacious and cool.”

She wanted to add that it also had a large bed, but it seemed too bold, despite everything.

Daniele started the car, and the Clump jumped down, his large webbed feet making a sound like a wet mop on the asphalt, attracting Daniele’s attention: “What was that?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Viola replied calmly, it was pointless to pretend she hadn’t heard and it was pointless to come up with explanations she didn’t need to give.

On the street, the Clump followed them with large bounds, zigzagging between the cars.

“I thought it was closer.” Daniele said, parking in front of the bungalow.

They had traveled in silence, he absorbed in driving, she with her eyes fixed on the rearview mirror.

“It’s just that I’m used to walking, and I started to evaluate distances differently.”

It was one of the advantages of being a chosen: a bit more stamina and physical strength. If Daniele were a chosen one, his build would've made him invincible.

Meanwhile, the Clump had hidden among the dense hedges of the house across from the bungalow, where he would stay until nightfall, gathering energy for the attack.

“Don’t you turn off the turn signals?” Viola asked; oh god, was he having second thoughts?

Daniele hesitated for a moment and then replied: “Are you sure you...”

She interrupted him by kissing him: “I’m sure I want to get inside the house right away.” she said. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” she added, but a quick glance at his pants reassured and excited her at the same time.

Outside, they were hit by the humid heat again, while the inside of the bungalow was cool thanks to a draft and the fans Viola had left on for Serafino.

As she took off her jacket, hat, and boots, Daniele placed the grocery bags on the table, and the cat jumped onto it, then slid sideways, pretending to be dead for a few seconds because he was also a fool.

“I told you.” Viola said.

Daniele burst into laughter, and Serafino began rubbing against his stomach, making Viola envious.

The man lifted the cat and took a good look at him: “He looks young, but he’s an adult cat.” he commented.

“He’s been with me for five years.” Viola said as the cat climbed onto her shoulder, leaping onto the table and returning to his favorite ledge.

“It’s too early to cook.” Viola said, brushing Daniele’s arm.

She was unsure of how to proceed, unaware of the correct procedure for such occasions.

He stroked her hair and leaned slightly to kiss her: “I really need to take a shower.” he murmured with his lips on hers.

“Later.” Viola replied, holding his shoulders.

“But I’m sweaty.” Daniele objected, trailing down to her neck.

It was true, he was overheated, and the smell of his skin, which had intoxicated her from the start, was now mixed with sweat, clean male sweat, which Viola found exciting.

“Better.” she murmured, unfastening his shirt: “I’m sweaty too.” she added, uncovering his shoulders; she noticed a tattoo on the left side of his chest, a kind of garland, just above his heart.

But she would think about that later; first, she needed to address the urgency of... getting to know him carnally.

She caressed his shoulders and arms, letting the shirt slide to the floor; beneath that soft appearance, he had solid muscles, and before she could unfasten his pants, he lifted her effortlessly: “Which way?” he asked, and Viola indicated the bedroom.

It was a bright room with two large oval windows, one right next to the bed, which was wide, with blue sheets and a pale yellow coverlet rolled at the end because it was too hot to cover up, and generally, Viola didn’t make the bed.

Daniele laid her down and she sat on the edge because she was really, really eager to unfasten his pants.

This time, he let her do it, and she pulled them down to his thighs, then touched the boxer shorts, whose elasticity was being tested, it must be said, by his erection, which stood out from a tuft of light-colored hair.

And for the first time in her life, the umpteenth time in this strange day, Viola experienced the sensation of having her mouth watering at the sight of a male organ, and likewise, a part of her thoughts ran to Ilaria and her passion for big, burly men who, much to her great disappointment and frustration, often had a sad little worm between their legs; if she were the type, she would have sent a photo of the small trunk in front of her, instead, she prepared to take it in her mouth, sweat or no sweat didn’t matter, the smell of their bodies had already intoxicated her; she barely managed to touch the tip with her tongue before Daniele moved out of reach, bent down to kiss her, then finished undressing and joined her.

Dumbfounded, she watched him as he took off her jeans, tank top, and panties.

She was overwhelmed by desire to the point of being unable to speak, and was eager to get to the point.

Daniele resumed kissing her, stroking her back and following her spine with his fingers, down to her lower back, her hips, her thighs, and then gently inserted two fingers inside, drawing a moan of pleasure from her. Viola buried her face in his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin, while he probed her more deeply, then pulled out and focused on the most sensitive spot, and she moaned again, her hips responding to his touch; she could have come like this, but she wanted him inside.

She kissed him on one shoulder and said: “Please, I can’t wait any longer, I’ve been waiting for this moment since I saw you at the supermarket.”

Daniele smiled and his irises darkened, he leaned back against the headboard of the bed and extended a hand to her, as if inviting her to dance. Viola took it and moved over him, and despite her excitement, she discovered that her body needed to adjust; it was a matter of circumference more than length, and again, a fleeting thought went to Ilaria. She held his shoulders and lowered herself onto him slowly, her muscles stretching to accommodate him and the growing sensation of having something in her throat, which she still intended to deal with.

She appreciated his effort to stay still, he was caressing her breasts fervently, but part of his concentration was on staying immobile, she felt it in the tension of his legs and especially in the pulsing that she now felt inside her.

When she was finally seated on top of him, Daniele sighed and gave a push upward.

Dazed by the unusual sensation of fullness, Viola would have gladly collapsed on him, allowing him total freedom of movement, because every one of his even slightest movements sparked tingles in her nerve endings; her muscles had tightened around the guest to the point that for Daniele, remaining still had become impractical, and he had started to move.

Viola tried to keep up with his rhythm, her fingers pressed into his shoulders, eyes closed, breathing deeply, hoping to regain a bit of lucidity and self-control to avoid coming too soon.

She wondered if he was also trying to control himself or if he was accustomed to maintaining control, as he had demonstrated so far. Now his hands—large and beautiful hands—were covering her buttocks, massaging them, and his mouth had taken their place on her breasts.

And despite the enthusiasm with which her body had adapted to the intrusion, it was difficult to move on that thing, at least for her, but the difficulty was compensated by the pleasure, which spread like an electrical network, or like Christmas lights that, after reaching their maximum brightness, would explode all at once.

She ran a hand through his hair and murmured, “I doubt I’ll last much longer.”

“You don’t have to,” he replied, giving her a few more thrusts that made her come.

And this time, after seeing stars like in cartoons, Viola collapsed on him. Daniele hadn’t come yet; he was still inside her, one hand on her hip and the other caressing her back. Viola, lying on him, breathed in the aroma of his skin while her heartbeat began to return to normal.

“I’m glad I stopped you from taking a shower,” she said, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Daniele laughed, “I’ll take that as a compliment and not as a statement that I stink.”

“But it is a compliment, and if you stink, so do I,” she declared, tracing his tattoo with her finger. She was about to ask him what it represented when he began to move again.

She tried to lift herself to help him, to contribute, but he held her tightly. So she tightened her thighs against his hips, making him moan and push deeper, and kissed him on the neck, caressing his chest.

Daniele lifted her head to kiss her and with a smooth but decisive movement, reversed their positions, increasing the rhythm and friction between their bodies. Viola arched her back, once again with that circle of stars spinning around her head, and began teasing his nipples with her tongue and teeth, digging her fingers into his buttocks, triggering a visceral reaction in him that led him to a powerful orgasm, and she came a second time.

Immediately after, Daniele remained suspended above and inside her for a long moment, moving his hips slowly before withdrawing gently and lying down beside her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, wiping his face.

“Sorry?” she asked, surprised, propping herself up on an elbow.

“I think it’s the first time in years, actually decades, that I’ve forgotten precautions. And we were even at the supermarket.”

“Well, the same goes for me,” Viola replied, “But I assure you, you can rest easy,” she added.

And it was true; the burden of being chosen guaranteed a couple of non-negligible advantages: an enhanced immune system and sterility.

The latter, for most of them, was a drawback, but for her, it was one less hassle. (She found it more illogical than anything, but then logic was pointless in their situation.)

She was happy that the rare times she found a man she wanted to have sex with, she didn't have to think about accessories. dragging a bow and arrows into every aspect of her life was more than enough.

Moreover, in this specific case, she liked that he had come inside her; she even enjoyed feeling it dripping down her inner thigh, and the pleasure was amplified by the certainty that there would be no consequences.

“I’m clean too,” Daniele replied, shaking his head. “I haven't been this foggy since I was a teenager in the throes of hormonal upheaval ”

Viola smiled and kissed him on the lips, “Good for me,” she said.

“Good for me,” he retorted, pulling her close. “I was about to get stuck in a mortally boring evening, and instead, luck smiled on me.”

Viola stroked his face and the stubble, “Luck has nothing to do with it. I was following you,” she confessed.

“Really?” he asked, playing with a strand of her hair, a gesture that Viola found strangely intimate.

“Yes, it’s rare for a man to catch my interest, so I followed you.”

Daniele smiled, “So you purposely bumped into me with the cart?”

“No, it’s just that by staring at you, I forgot to account for the distance,” Viola replied.

He grinned, “So your intervention was fortuitous.”

“Halfway. I understood your call for help right away, didn’t I?” she said, realizing at that moment that this man she had just met was important. He had something that made him important, something that eluded her.

“Yes, when I saw you, I immediately knew I could count on you. That you would save me,” he declared, half-serious, not knowing how close he was to the truth.

“And this?” Viola asked, tracing the tattoo with the tip of her finger, “It looks like a garland.”

“It is,” Daniele replied. “My grandmother used to say that I was a special child and would put necklaces of braided herbs around my neck that she believed would keep evil spirits away,” he recounted. “And when I grew up, she made me keep them in my pockets, in little pouches she made, and forced me to promise to carry them always. When she died, I had them tattooed.”

Viola swallowed the lump in her throat, imagining the grandmother putting the protective garland around her little grandson’s neck.

He was a special child.

Yes, she would bet he was; it was evident even now.

Hoping he hadn’t noticed her emotional reaction, she asked, “Was your grandmother superstitious or did she have the sight?”

“She had her beliefs,” Daniele answered tersely.

Viola glimpsed the Clump peeking through the window, strange, usually, if they found shelter, they stayed there until the attack.

She sat up to block his view.

What kind of thoughts were running through that warty head, and especially how long had he been watching them, and if he had seen them having sex?

Even if Serafino had come to play dead, they would have hardly noticed during their encounter.

And in any case, at the moment, he was harmless.

“St. John’s wort and verbena,” she said, continuing to trace the tattoo.

Daniele looked at her in surprise.

“I have informed knowledge,” she explained. “And besides the tattoo, do you still keep them in your pocket?”

Daniele hesitated for a moment before agreeing.
“Good,” said Viola, leaning in to kiss him on the lips, then on the neck, and finally on the tattoo.
“Now it’s my turn to ask a question,” he said, running his fingers through her hair. “I saw a bow and arrows propped up against the wall when we arrived.”
When she left him at home, Viola kept them out of their case to let them air out.
“They must have been left behind by the previous tenant, or they’re part of the décor,” she lied.
She had learned that it was better to deflect the conversation immediately to avoid a questionnaire, as had happened before, or worse, a demonstration of her abilities.
Daniele scrutinized her for a moment but refrained from asking further questions.
“May I take a shower now?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows.
“If you must,” she replied. “But don’t use too much soap.”
He laughed and got up. Viola, feeling the Clump’s eyes fixed on her back, stood up as well, accompanied him to the bathroom, and provided him with clean towels. When she returned to the bedroom, she was enveloped in the intoxicating mixture of their bodies and the scent of sex.
She put on her tank top and panties, lay down under the fan, and thought about Daniele’s grandmother and her foresight.
If it wasn’t mere superstition, and Viola tended to rule that out, maybe she saw monsters or evil spirits, as she had described them, perhaps she was a medium or a different type of chosen one.
A type that could reproduce.
But whatever she saw, it was different from the Clumps. Herbs were useless against the Clumps.
What mattered was that she had protected her grandson.
“Thank you, Grandma, for getting him to me alive,” she murmured.
Daniele reappeared at that moment, with a towel wrapped around his waist and rubbing another on his hair.
“Now I’ll get started on cooking,” he announced cheerfully.
“Okay,” Viola replied, sitting on the edge of the bed. With a quick motion, she removed the towel, finding herself in the initial situation, only this time she would complete the mission.
She knew she couldn’t take all of him in her mouth, but she would do her best, especially since he was semi-erect at the moment.
Before Daniele could say anything, she placed her hands on his thighs and took him between her lips, pushing down to the tuft of hair as much as she could.
He let out a throaty moan of pleasure and placed a hand on her head, running his fingers through her hair.
The more Viola focused, the further the tuft moved away, which was a good sign; it was worth the effort of her jaw. She continued her work, encouraged and comforted by his moans of pleasure and the quiver in his legs. When he warned her that he was about to come, she let him come in her mouth, actually, in her throat, where he was.
Viola had always been reluctant to an excessive exchange of fluids, but this was different.
Everything about him was different.
When he finished coming, she let him go.
“Now you can get to the stove,” she said.
“Now I have weak knees,” he replied, sitting beside her.
“It’s the first time I’ve wanted and let someone come in my mouth,” Viola added.
She wanted him to know, even if they never saw each other again, she wanted him to know this.
“I’m honored,” Daniele replied.
He looked sincere, and Viola smiled at him.
It was a curious feeling to have the taste of another person in her mouth. In Daniele’s case, it was a bittersweet taste, leaning more towards the sweet side.
Their stomachs growled in unison, startling them.
He put on his boxers and, once in the living room, retrieved his shirt.
Serafino greeted them by landing on the table, protesting: “I know, I saw.” Viola interrupted: “Now be quiet,” she said, grabbing one of his cans.
Daniele turned: “Saw what?”
“That we’re late for dinner,” she mumbled.
Offended by that pathetic lie, Serafino resumed his protest.
“You’re right, it’s a serious matter, but please stop now,” Viola said.
“Do you often have these conversations?” Daniele asked, amused.
“Meow,” replied the cat, jumping onto the fridge where he stayed to watch Daniele cook.
“Continuously. He’s extremely picky,” Viola said.
Chuckling, Daniele began slicing a tomato while she spread out the tablecloth.
“Are you on vacation?” he asked.
“Sort of. The restaurant where I work as a waitress is moving to a different area, and they’re doing renovations.”
It was a half-truth, but better than nothing.
She couldn’t turn around but had the impression that the windows were clear, Serafino was calm, busy cleaning his eyes with his paw.
Now Viola’s main concern was that Daniele would stay the night, or at least until dawn. Leaving was dangerous for him, and she didn’t have a car to follow him.
And she needed to protect him, she wanted to protect him.
She left him to cook in peace and went to the bathroom to freshen up.
She was counting on another round after dinner, maybe, and if he preferred to leave, perhaps she could keep him until sunrise.
With the light, he would be safe, but the problem would remain.
She brushed her hair, returned to the living room, and saw that Daniele had also finished setting the table.
He invited her to sit, and she took a seat where she could keep an eye on Serafino’s movements.
“Did your grandmother have any reasons to believe you needed protection?” she asked, breaking the bread.
Daniele looked at her, surprised. “Among the people I’ve talked to, you’re the only one who’s asked me that in these terms,” he commented.
“What do you mean?” she asked, her mouth full; over the years, she had developed a lot of bad habits, which she should start losing, she thought.
But gradually.
“I mean, without implying that she was crazy,” he replied.

“The fact that she wanted to protect you to me indicates the opposite,” Viola declared.
Daniele set two plates of salmon with a delicious-smelling vegetable side on the table.
“My grandmother was convinced that there were malignant entities to be wary of,” he explained.
“Entities in the sense of spirits or corporeal beings?” she asked.
Daniele studied her for a moment. “She referred to them as spirits.”
Viola nodded and, fearing to overstep, dropped the topic, because a beloved grandmother was one thing, a stranger with whom she had slept who could turn out to be an obsessed person with bows and arrows was another.

”This is delicious,” she said, indicating the plate.

Daniele smiled. “It’s because you’re hungry.”

“No, no, it’s really exquisite.”

Like everything else that had come from him so far.

“Then thank you,” he replied, taking a sip of water.

Serafino leapt onto a corner of the table, then onto the back of a chair, and finally onto the inner ledge of the only rectangular window in the bungalow, signaling that the Clump had come close again.

For the Clumps, it was expected that animals would see them, so they remained focused on their prey without concern.

Daniele ate in silence, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Viola wanted to ask him questions about his life, but the desire to get back to bed as soon as possible outweighed everything else.

They would talk later, she hoped.

And speaking of bed: “It’s the first time in my life that I’ve done something like this,” she said, and seeing his questioning look, added, “Going to bed with a man I just met,” and blushing slightly, continued, “I don’t know what came over me, but when I saw you in the supermarket, I felt I had to try. And my brain had no say in the matter.”

Daniele burst into a good-natured laugh. “Your candor is refreshing,” he said, pouring himself some beer. “When you almost ran me over with the cart and you raised your hand.”

“What?” asked Viola.

“That was the moment I was sure we’d understand each other instantly,” he explained.

Viola smiled. “So if we understand each other instantly…” she said, getting up and extending her hand.

Daniele took it and stood up as well.

Serafino first stretched out and then lay on his back.

The Clump must have been just outside.

In any case, there was still light, and all the lamps in the house were on.

They undressed each other of the little they were wearing, and Viola took his boxers, which were blue with little dogs on them. “Nice,” she commented, amused.

“Christmas gift from my very funny colleagues,” he explained, lying down and pulling her with him. “Pack of six.”

Viola was about to reply that she hoped to see the others as well but held back.

To her surprise, they kissed for a long time, and then he started to reciprocate the attentions that Viola had given him before dinner.

He made her come with his fingers and tongue so intensely that she was dazed for a good couple of minutes, during which he got up to get a bottle of water, and Serafino approached to check that she was okay.

When Daniele returned, the cat jumped onto the wardrobe where it could monitor both them and the window.

“I’d like to stay here tonight,” Daniele said, caressing her arm. “If you’re okay with it…”

He was interrupted by a kiss, with which Viola expressed her relief. “I was hoping so,” she murmured and placed her hand on the tattoo, from which she could still feel his heart racing a bit.

Now she would just have to wait for him to fall asleep, turn off the light, grab the bow, and wait for Serafino’s signal. Then she would position herself in front of the window and shoot the arrow.

“Tomorrow is also Sunday, and if you’re free and up for it, we can take it easy,” she proposed, snuggling and stretching a leg over his.

Daniele caressed her and smiled. “That’s a great idea,” he said.

There were two more rounds before sleep enveloped him, and Viola had to force herself to remove his hands because if dawn found them still awake, she would have to postpone the killing of the Clump to the next night, and she wasn’t guaranteed to have another chance.

Daniele fell asleep on his stomach, his face buried in the pillow, and an arm around her hips, while she remained alert, waiting for him to slip into a deep sleep.

When his breathing grew quieter and his arm heavier, she waited another ten minutes, just to be safe, and then turned off the lamp.

She regretted leaving such a comfortable position, but Serafino was already in place, and she needed to be ready. If all went well, she would resolve the situation in half an hour.

A light breeze came through the window, and after gently moving Daniele’s arm and getting up, she brushed his hair with her lips and pulled up the sheet, finally aware that she had fallen in love.

“And now?” she sighed, putting her tank top and underwear back on.

And now? Well, for now, the most important thing was to save him.

She retrieved the bow and arrow and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for the signal.

Serafino was engaged in grooming, an activity that did not impair his performance.

At the moment Serafino would play dead, Viola would have to get up and shoot the arrow.

And so she did. Serafino flopped onto his back, she stood up, and found herself facing the Clump, whose astonishment lasted the ten seconds necessary to be hit.

It was the surprise that always betrayed them, and it was one of the reasons why learning to ignore them was crucial.

Viola pierced it in the middle of the torso, and the Clump, its yellowish eyes wide open and mouth agape in a silent scream, staggered back and fell off the porch.

Serafino rarely participated in the post-killing activities due to the stench, and indeed he disappeared, leaving Viola with another spectator.

“What was that?” Daniele asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, making her flinch.

For a man of his size, he was quiet.

“The reason your grandmother put the garland around your neck,” Viola replied. “Or at least one of the reasons.”

She turned and saw that his astonished expression mirrored that of the Clump, and if she hadn’t been so exhausted, she would have found it amusing.

Daniele took a while to articulate a sentence, and although Viola was eager to remove the arrow and finish things, she deemed it wiser to wait until he had recovered.

“Please, explain to me what just happened,” he asked, slightly breathless.

Viola took his hand and squeezed it. “First, tell me what you saw,” she said, and he made another gesture that impressed her, bringing his hand to his mouth and kissing her knuckles. “I woke up because I was having trouble breathing with my face in the pillow, and you weren’t there. Then I saw you sitting on the bed, and when you got up, I also got up to see what you were looking at, and I saw you shoot into the air, and then that creature appeared with the arrow stuck in its chest.”

Creature.

“Monster,” Viola corrected him

“Monster,” Daniele repeated. “Is it still out there?”

She nodded. “It’s dead now.”

“And can I see it?” he asked after a brief hesitation.

Viola looked at him in surprise. “Are you sure? It’s a gruesome sight.”

“I’m a vet. I’m used to gruesome sights,” he said.

“Okay then, but put on your boxers and shoes.”

Oh, he had forgotten he was naked.

Down from the porch lay the Clump, the arrow lodged in its chest and its expression of astonishment frozen on its face; with its gelatinous skin full of lumps and blisters, and its arms and legs splayed out, it resembled a monstrous starfish.

Viola noticed that it was holding something in its right hand, red berries.

Strange.

Daniele bent down to observe it, and when he reached to touch it, Viola grabbed his wrist. “Better not,” she said.

He straightened up. “What is it?” he asked again.

“I told you, it’s a monster,” Viola replied.

“And the bow and arrows are yours, so you knew about its existence,” Daniele said quietly.

Viola simply nodded.

“And it wanted to kill you,” he added.

“Do you really think that if I knew there was a monster on my tail, I would have invited you here, exposing you to unnecessary risk? Do I give you the impression of being that inconsiderated?” Viola asked, feeling on the verge of tears, which she fought to hold back.

She hadn’t cried in years, and now, the relief of having neutralized the threat looming over Daniele had brought the tears back.

She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, and when she looked at him, she saw that the meaning of her words had sunk in.

“It wanted to kill me?” he asked, astonished.

She nodded.

“And how did you know?”

“I see them even when they’re invisible. I’m a chosen one,” Viola said with an ironic tone.

Daniele was about to ask more questions, but she stopped him. “I need to deal with this now. When we’re done, I’ll answer all your questions,” she assured him.

“Okay, what do we need to do?” Daniele asked.

“You nothing. I need to remove the arrow, wait for it to dissolve, and then cover the ashes with salt.”

Daniele was intent on staying where he was.

“The smell it gives off while it dissolves is terrible,” Viola added.

“Terrible smells are part of my job,” he reiterated.

They were wasting time. Viola signaled him to cover his nose and mouth, and she did the same. She approached the clump, pulled out the arrow with a disgusting suction sound, and they moved away as the clump’s body began to gurgle and the stench spread through the air, overcoming the barrier of their hands and irritating their eyes.

When the dissolution process was complete, only the ashes and the berries remained, resembling the Clump’s form.

It was unusual for a Clump to have something in its hand because during an attack, the hands were indispensable.

Viola bent down and picked up the berries, which were simple shiny red berries. When they returned to get the salt, she placed them on the table with the arrow.

She had bought six packs of coarse sea salt as soon as she arrived, because she was sure she would need them sooner or later, and with Daniele’s help, she carried them all outside.

“Why didn’t we sprinkle the body with salt before removing the arrow?” Daniele asked as they spread the salt; each handful released a mist that faintly smelled of the sea.

It was a good question.

“One person tried that and had to kill them with a spoon, and the body started sizzling, emitting an even worse stench, and instead of ashes, it left a gooey mess,” Viola replied, gathering the empty boxes.

“With a spoon?” Daniele repeated, perplexed.

“He worked in a restaurant, and the first one he killed was in the kitchen in front of the fridge and he had to use with whatever he had in hand,” she explained.

Daniele snorted a half-laugh. “So what’s the point of the salt?” he asked.

Viola looked at him, standing semi-naked, disheveled, holding a box of salt, and again she was overwhelmed with relief at having saved him, and made a huge effort to hold back her tears. “The salt disinfects and neutralizes…”

“…the negative energies,” he finished. “My grandmother always said that.”

'Saint granny' Viola thought. Who knows what she had saved him from.

Finally, they were able to return home, and it was then that Viola noticed that the section of the porch under the bedroom window had been 'decorated' with a multitude of red and yellow berries and green leaves.

Her stomach tightened. It was unprecedented behavior.

“What’s wrong?” Daniele asked.

She pointed to the decoration and replied, “I don’t know.”

He then dropped one of the boxes, took her hand, and led her up the stairs.

Once inside, he closed the door behind them, and Viola moved the arrow next to the bow and sat at the table. Daniele put the kettle on the stove and sat down in front of her.

“Who are these creatures? And where do they come from?” he asked.

Viola shrugged, her eyes fixed on the berries. “I know as much as you do. They just exist.”

Daniele leaned back in his chair, which creaked. “And you have to hunt them.”

She shook her head and picked up the berries. “I just kill them when they show up.”

“With a bow and arrows,” he added.

“We’re required to use the type of weapon we started with,” Viola said.

Daniele pondered for a few seconds. “So the spoon guy…”

“Now he has to carry a spoon in his pocket and attack them from behind to increase his chances of success,” Viola said. Paolo, the King of Spoons, was often mocked in chats, but he was one of the most admired.

“Damn,” Daniele murmured. “And how did you start?”

Viola sniffed the berries; they had a sour odor. “At ten years old, I played target practice with my cousins in their lakeside garden, close to here.”

“So with a toy bow,” he interjected.

Viola nodded. “The Clump jumped out of a hedge and came straight at us.” She shifted her gaze from the berries to Daniele. “And I felt an unmistakable impulse. I snatched the bow from my cousin’s hands and shot. The Clump tried to escape because it realized I could see it, but it didn’t make it. It’s the only one I’ve ever killed from behind; the arrow seemed to be guided by remote control.”

Daniele listened intently.

“And when it appeared, your cousins saw it,” he commented.

He was absorbing the information well, Viola thought.

Daniele got up to turn off the stove, poured the boiling water into two cups, put the herbal tea bags in, which he had seen while cooking, and set them on the table along with the honey; there was no sugar.

“Yes, one of them even helped me pull out the arrow,” Viola replied.

“And how did they react?” he asked.

“Scared and excited at the same time, like it was a game. But, you know, when faced with something extraordinary, kids are less impressed than adults. I remember that when we pulled out the arrow, though, we vomited because of the smell.”

Viola put down the berries, brought the cup closer, squeezed the tea bag around the spoon, and placed it next to the berries, then sweetened the tea with honey. “Over time, they forgot about it, but I got stuck with it,” she concluded.

Daniele studied her. “How can you be sure it was here for me?” he asked.

“Because the Clumps don’t kill the chosen ones; we’re off their radar.”

“The Clumps?” he repeated.

“Yes, one of the others called them that, and eventually, we all adopted the name,” Viola replied, feeling the fatigue creeping in, slow but relentless.

She took a long sip of tea.

“So, you know other chosen ones,” Daniele continued.

Viola felt like she was being interrogated, but she understood; in his place, she would want to know everything too. What surprised her more was his calmness.

“We have a chat,” she said with a nervous laugh. “Ridiculous, right?”

“No,” he countered. “Why do you use that mocking tone?”

Right, why?

Exhausted, Viola crossed her arms on the table and rested her head on them. What was that decoration under the window? Some sort of homage to Daniele? Were the Clumps capable of feelings?

If so, it was the first time one of them had shown any sign of it.

She shivered.

She felt Daniele move, and soon after, his hand began stroking her hair and back. Gently, he took her by the shoulders and made her stand up. Viola hid her face against his neck; he lifted her and carried her to bed.

“It must be exhausting, living while hunting monsters no one else can see,” he observed, holding her close. Viola caressed his chest, playing with the hair and tracing the tattoo.

“I don’t go hunting,” she murmured against his skin. “I’m not a very good chosen one. I only kill the ones that cross my path.”

“To me, it seems extremely tiring, and heroic,” he countered.

She shook her head, rubbing her forehead against his collarbone. “I’m not very devoted to the cause. One of us, named Alice, constantly hunts them down and cuts herself every time they get away. Once, she killed one that had sucked the life force from so many people that it almost looked human.”

And a couple had escaped her too, but her count was low because, as mentioned, she only killed the unlucky ones who crossed her path.

“So, if it had gotten to me, it would have drained my life force,” Daniele said, his heartbeat still steady, perhaps too astonished to be scared.

“Yes, but they’re easy to kill,” she clarified. “They’re B-list monsters.”

“But they’re lethal.”

Viola raised herself up and rested her head on her hand. “Yes, but killing them is easy. When I was thirteen, I killed four of them at the same village festival. It was easy because I’m off their radar, and all I had to do was wait for the right moment. They only try to run if they realize I can see them.”

She bent down and kissed his shoulder.

“I wonder if there are A-list monsters; probably, for us B-list chosen ones, it’s impossible to spot them. Luckily, this is already a massive pain,” she said impulsively.

Daniele smiled and kissed her.

“You were never scared,” she added when he let her go.

“When I saw you sitting at the foot of the bed, bow in hand, I... sensed that something was about to come to an end because for a couple of days, I’d been feeling a sense of oppression in the air that disappeared when you hit the monster.” He caressed her face. “And my grandmother’s words and actions took on new meaning.”

Viola smiled and placed her hand on the tattoo.

“So, at the supermarket, you almost ran into me with your cart because of the Clump,” Daniele continued.

“Yes, it was sitting near your legs, and I wanted it to move away,” she replied. “But I started following you because I liked you right away and didn’t want to lose sight of you while I figured out how to approach you. I noticed the Clump afterward,” she clarified, to dispel any doubts, and most importantly: “In over thirty years, this was my first personal issue with one of them,” she declared, sitting up.

After a moment in which it seemed to her that Daniele was moved, he pulled her close and kissed her, and it took a while before they resumed their conversation.

“It had berries in its hand, and it had placed some under the bedroom window. It’s strange,” Viola began, hugging him as he ran his fingers along her spine like piano keys, sending little shivers of pleasure through her. “It seems like some kind of homage.”

“An homage before killing me,” Daniele observed. “Maybe they were for you.”

“No, as I said, I was off the radar. Until the end, it didn’t even realize I could see it.”

“Then what could it be?”

Outside, the sky was turning from black to turquoise. Viola got up to close the shutters and returned to his arms.

“Maybe it had decided to change targets, and that was a kind of farewell; maybe I killed it while it was arranging its composition. I think it will remain a mystery,” she said.

She would still put it in the chat to document the event.

Daniele sighed, kissed her hair, and muttered, “Today, a superheroine saved my evening and then my life, and I can’t tell anyone.”

Viola chuckled. “Not a superheroine, a B-list chosen one,” she corrected. “Delighted to have saved your life.”

“How long do I have to repay you?” he asked, seriously.

“I’ve only just arrived, so...” she was interrupted by a sharp noise followed by Serafino’s loud meow.

Alarmed, Viola jumped out of bed, but Daniele was quicker and got ahead of her, forcing her to pull him back.
“If it’s another one of them, I’m not taking any chances,” she declared, pushing him back onto the bed.
She entered the living room and saw the bow and arrow snapped in two, with Serafino circling around them, sniffing. When he saw her, he began rubbing against her legs.
Viola stared at the broken pieces, speechless, her heart pounding in her chest and the blood roaring in her ears.
“Everything okay?” Daniele asked from behind her.
She nodded. “I'll be right there,” she said. He returned to the bedroom, and Viola bent down, reaching out to pick up the bow, but then she changed her mind.
She stood up and went back to Daniele, who was sitting on the bed waiting for her. She sat next to him and covered her face with her hands, as the tears that had been threatening to fall all night finally broke free.
And at last, the relief overwhelmed her, and she burst into uncontrollable sobs.
Daniele placed a hand on her back, and she felt his warmth radiate through her, calming her almost instantly.
“What happened?” he asked.
“The bow and arrow broke,” she replied, sniffing and wiping her eyes.
“Broke?” Daniele looked puzzled.
“Snapped in two.”
“On their own?”
Viola nodded.
“How did they break on their own?” he asked.
She took his hands. “It’s over,” she declared. “I’m free. The breaking of the weapon means we’re discharged.” She explained, “It’s over.”
Thankfully, she had managed to save him in time.
She lay down, pulling him with her.
“And apart from the freedom, what else does it mean?” Daniele asked.
“Well, I’m no longer able to see them. I can forget they even exist.”
He stroked her cheek, lingering on a spot still damp with tears. “Aren’t you afraid they could attack you now?”
“No, we former Chosen Ones stay off their radar, like I told you. They’re second-rate monsters. And you want to know the best part? The death of the Clump that was following you grants you immunity.”
Daniele smiled and brought his face close to hers, almost touching. “Now that you’re free and the place where you work is closed, do you need to go back to where you came from? Or can you stay here with me, for example?”
“What do you mean by ‘stay here with you’?” Viola asked, feeling a strange sensation in her stomach, like butterflies.
“I mean, you could settle down here, with me,” he repeated. “I have a feeling we’ll get along just fine,” he added, brushing her hair away from her forehead. “What do you think?”
Serafino announced himself with a low meow, landing between them and starting to rub his face under Daniele’s chin, who burst out laughing. “What’s gotten into him?” he asked.
“He’s answering for both of us. He’s saying we’d be very happy to stay here with you. Very happy,” Viola replied. “We agree,” she said to the cat, stroking him. “Now, leave us alone.”
Serafino turned to look at her, then leaped onto the wardrobe, where he stayed, watching them until the sun came up.

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