Fallen Playboy


All the girls loved me. I was quite popular with them growing up. I ended up causing four or five girls to fight over who would marry me in second grade. Yes, those were the good old days. Then, I became cursed.

I was on a date then too. She was a fine-looking babe too. Blond hair, pink eyes, nice tits. Ooo! I wanted to nail her when I saw her in the hospital. (Odd place to pick up dates, I know. But, it works. I grab them where I can.) But first, I needed to turn on the good old Jimmy charm. Top game at that.

This nurse was one of those nonsense girls. My favorite, coincidently. It took five weeks, but I got her to come around. I took her to my signature date place.

Blue Orchid’s is the perfect place to get laid. They have great food. I say that for the aphrodisiacs in the food and wine. Apparently, my date knows this place well. So, I have to make this good.

I sipped some of my wine. “Having fun?”

My date shrugged. “It’s okay.”

I noticed her face. “You look bored.”

She shook her head. “It’s not that. It’s just…”


She tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s too classy for me. I’m more of a sports bar girl.”

I nodded at her. “Really?”

“Yeah. I haven’t been to a fancy place since I was fourteen.”

“I see.” Okay, this is different. I rarely get the tomboy as a date. Hm, I might have to change strategies.

“So, you want to get out of here?” I asked. She looked right at me.

“Are you sure?” she asked. I gave her a little shrug.

“If you want to,” I replied. My date thought about that for a moment. I waited like a gentleman. My date finally threw up her hands.

“Alright,” she said. “We can leave.” I smiled at her.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll just find the lady one sports bar.” She breathed out.

“Thanks!” my date said. I stood up from the table armed with my IPhone. She gave me an odd look.

“Where are you going?” my date asked. I turned to her with a smile.

“Outside,” I said. “Phone reception sucks here.” I disappeared out the back way. That’s where it shot downhill.

In the dark narrow hallway, I felt an attack. It felt like something bit me on the shoulder. Not a little bite. I heard myself gasping for air. Everything spun around me. I could feel the pain burning in my brain.

“Help!” I croaked out. “Help me!” Suddenly, my shoulder began to burn. This wasn’t a normal burn, either. Something was being burned into my skin. Two lines to be exact. I tried to grasp what was happening to me.

“Help me!” I pleaded again. “Help me! Help me!” Then, a hot breath came onto my ear.

“You will die on the Fire Festival on 2011,” this voice told me. I sat up in a panic. What? I’m to die next year? No! No, it can’t be! I haven’t slept with most of the girls I wanted to yet.

Suddenly, the pain subsided. I began to catch my breath again. I sat back pale. You have no idea how much I wish that was a dream right now. But, no. I knew this was real, somehow. Damn.

“Are you okay?” a girl’s voice asked me softly. I looked up and saw her face. That’s how I met Grace Forrest.

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