Like most good things, her relationship with him had started out great. It had been perfect, even- he had  been perfect. But, also like most good things, it had ended. And as Avery lay dying on the ground, she couldn’t help but wonder just where things had started to go wrong. Had it been recently, on the days where she couldn’t even open her mouth without him lashing out? Or had it always been like this, with her too oblivious, too in love, to notice? Either way, it was too late to wonder now.
It was odd, she thought, that it didn’t hurt. When it first hit her, it felt like her whole body was in flames, pain so unbearable that she’d dropped straight to the ground, the metallic taste of blood already filling her mouth at an alarming level, rendering her incapable of screaming. There’d been so much pain, but now? Nothing.
The only thing she felt, in fact, was the warm puddle of blood growing steadily beneath her, making her hands and clothes sticky, staining them like a rusty teapot, and the rough, frigid cement floor, scraping against her cheek every time she moved her head. It smelled musty, moldy in the cellar, but despite that, despite everything, she swore she could smell his cologne still. It was fresh in the air, a sweet, strong scent that she loved. It had lingered, even after he’d gone, footsteps fading and stairs creaking as he ascended them. It lingered, even after he’d pulled the trigger on the gun,emitting a nuclear bang, letting the bullet fly at her, ripping her to pieces. It lingered, even as she was crying, screaming out to him, her voice ricocheting off the walls like the bullet inside her, “Why, why, why?” It lingered, as he sauntered over towards his dying girlfriend, not caring in the slightest about what he’d done, and as he leaned down and whispered to her, it lingered. His voice was soft, silky smooth. On another occasion, she’d even consider it comforting. But now, lacking any emotion, any regret for what he’d done, it was sadistic and tortuous and scared her more than the promise of her imminent death. As he kneeled next to her, feathery fingertips brushing the bloody, matted hair back from her face, his mouth next to her ear whispering, in that honey-smooth voice, “Why not?” it lingered.

Six months ago, everything had been fine, normal and boring, but fine. She was just a girl, fresh out of college and preparing for her first summer that didn’t guarantee a tedious nine months of education at the end of it. And then she met him. She smiled bitterly, weakly, at the difference six months had made. Now, she was preparing to die in her boyfriend’s damp, cold cellar, her body numb and soon to be decomposing. But when they first met, it had been beautiful out. One of those perfect days that, when you first go outside, you thank whatever forces may be that you’re alive and well to experience it. She’d gone for a bike ride in the park near her house, a big green area filled with trees that had low branches, perfect for climbing, and children that never stopped running around, their happy shrieks heard from all the way across town.
The day had seemed ordinary, beautiful but nothing special. Until she sat down on a bench for a little while, legs aching from the constant pedaling. And that was when she first saw him.
She remembered everything about him, too captivated to look away. The sun reflecting off his white t-shirt made him appear angelic, and he had the the type of face that, with just one look, you were hooked. He was graceful, gliding across the grassy field and standing out from his slouching friends. He was alluring, even in just a white shirt and blue jeans, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He made her forget completely the pain in her legs, the overpowering aroma of the flowers planted sporadically throughout the park. He was so stunning, in fact, that she forgot about the splendidness of the day altogether, focusing on him only.
When she noticed him walking towards her, her heart stopped. And from then on, they’d been completely consumed with each other. She was enamored, and her whole world revolved around him, around Dillon. She was so caught up in loving him, in fact, that even as she was on death’s doorstep, something that was his doing, she couldn’t help but wish he’d come back. Even after he’d shot her, guaranteed her death, Avery still loved him. And that’s what she regretted the most.

All six months of their relationship had been wonderful, at least to Avery. Things moved quickly, but they were so infatuated with each other, or so Avery thought, that it didn’t matter. Each time she looked at him, all she could think of was the beautiful boy with the angelic glow, hazy sunlight peering out from behind him and blinding her as she struggled to comprehend how she got so lucky that this flawless boy would speak to her. For their first date, he’d wooed her at the park where they’d met, preparing an elaborate moon-lit picnic on the bench where they’d first spoken. Avery grew giddy at the sight of it, caught up with the magic of the night as she thought, he’s the one. The moon was full that night, the tree’s shadows racing across the park each time wind blew, scurrying to each other, telling them to look, look at the beautiful couple, watch them, watch them..
Avery especially loved the way the night air felt, warm and filling, promising that they’d have the whole summer, they’d have all of forever, and that this night would never end. She felt him watch her as she laughed, dancing in the moonlight, her eyes closed, her palms turned up, her dress flowing. And then Dillon spoke.
“You’re absolutely gorgeous, Avery,” he’d whispered, his honey-comb voice riding across the air and singing into her ears. She had stopped her twirling for a moment and stared at his face, which was pale and even menacing in an entrancing kind of way.
His voice reached her again, “I can’t keep my eyes off you.” That was when she fell for him. The moonlight illuminated his face, which was, she decided, no longer menacing but sweet looking, innocent like that of a child. Already she’d allowed herself to be fooled by his charm, her mind warping the face of the devil into that of an angel. The wind whistled through the trees as the shadows raced around, say something, say something they pleaded. So she did.
“Why?” she asked, stepping toward him. And in that same endearing voice, he answered, “Why not?”

Avery was barely conscious now. How long had it been since Dillon left? The room was starting to smell of rust, her own blood, she knew, and her whole body buzzed, filled with millions upon millions of bees. She smiled to herself at that, thinking of all the bees that must have been buzzing around inside her, slowly numbing her senses one by one until there would be nothing left. She was exhausted, hardly able to function anymore. Her body was shutting down, but still her thoughts remained on one subject: Dillon. Why had he done this? Was it her fault? Where was he? Avery missed him, and even though she hated him now more than she’d ever hated anyone ever before, she still loved him entirely.

Overall, Dillon had been a relatively good boyfriend. He’d surprise her with monstrous coffees larger than her head, or sometimes with a bouquet of flowers; lilies, roses, any and every kind. He would listen to her rant when she was angry, hug her close when she was sad. He cooked for her, cared for her, loved her… But still he murdered her. Avery was confused, trying desperately to grasp what had led her to here, a kamikaze bomber attempting to right their last wrong before their inevitable death . The bees were trying to fight their way into her mind, take over and colonize her thoughts, robbing her of her only remaining pieces. But she refused. She needed Dillon to come back, she had to find out what she’d done wrong. Had he felt like his loving actions weren’t reciprocated, did she bring this upon herself? She faintly recalled that night of their first date, when the moon was able to mask the monster of the shadows that she’d first seen Dillon for. Had she not really been the subject of his affection, but the target for a different emotion, a stupid girl one whose ignorance allowed her to fall for the charm of a man she’d only just met? A man who was masked in shadows that hid in light?
She was sure she’d figured it out. Her loyal, perfect, loving boyfriend wasn’t human at all. He’d played her like a deck of cards, playing all the right moves, a lovely pokerface masking the monster beneath. And she’d fallen for it. She went all in, and now she was left with nothing. Dillon had taken everything from her, and she’d let him.
Avery felt her head go hazy; the bees had finally invaded. They went straight to work, leaving sickly sweet dollops of honey over her brain, slowing all her thoughts. Their stingers numbed her body and honey trickled to the floor.
Just before her eyes shut for the final time, Avery laughed. She heard the door open, the stairs creak, and that lingering, powerful scent flooded her nose and mouth, poisoning and killing the bees. At that same instant, a voice oozing with honey, overwhelming her with too much of a good thing, rang out clear across the basement, “What?” And as she breathed in the smell yet again, her final working senses obliterated by his scent, she turned to him, eyes mere slits by now. And as she whispered to him, “You know, I never liked honey anyways,” it lingered.