"Well, I guess I really shouldn't be all that surprised." I muttered to myself, rubbing my chest with a self-deprecating smile on my face.
Throughout my life, I've always had this "curse" that I couldn't escape no matter what I did or what I changed.
Women.
Every last one I encountered ended up developing romantic feelings for me, how is that a curse you ask?
Here's the thing, they weren't normal women. If that were the case I'd be elated beyond belief, they were all psychos. Every single one of them, without exception.
The Japanese had a word for that didn't they? Yan-dere was it? I probably butchered the pronunciation of that in my head, but oh well.
I made it a practice to continue avoiding them, as anyone with a lick of common sense would be able to tell nothing good would come from associating oneself with their type.
But, they just kept coming. I tried my absolute best to find a normal woman, I really did.
Yet, all my efforts were in vain. So one day I decided to just take the risk, and reciprocate the feelings of one, even if my feelings were feigned.
I couldn't help it, I didn't want to go my entire life as a monk.
And it was alright for a while, one advantage, if you could even call it that, of my curse was that reading such women was like clockwork for me.
I knew how they thought, walked, spoke, even breathed.
Then one night, I was foolish enough to let my guard down.
I invited my sister over so we could catch up, seeing as the both of us having moved to different cities for work and study, I thought it would be nice for us to have some bonding time.
My girlfriend was supposed to be at work, since I knew she'd spin the story as me cheating on her or something ridiculous and outlandish like that, but apparently she was let off early.
Obviously, she had a key to my apartment which I wasn't stupid enough to give to her myself before you ask, and when she saw me and my sister talking to one another in my living room, she snapped.
And before I could even get a sentence out my mouth, there was a knife plunged into my chest. I'm not sure whether my sister survived that encounter or not, but I hope she did.
If my thoughts are somehow capable of being transmitted to you. Avenge me! Also make sure you tell that lunatic that her head-game was WEAK!
I'm kidding, actually it was pretty damn good, but I just don't want to admit it.
Now with that brief recounting of events out the way, I suppose my next order of business is to figure out where I am. My guess being that I'm either dreaming, which I think is unlikely, or this is the afterlife.
The knife wound is gone, and so is the blood, and I'm in the hallway of what looks to be a therapist's office.
A place I had to frequent when the curse first started to reveal itself to me.
I continued to walk forwards until I came across a door, proceeding to open it and stepping inside a lounge, with nothing but a few couches, and a watercooler inside it.
The air was still, and quiet, with only one other figure besides myself being present.
There was a woman sitting down on one of the couches, with her head leaned back and elbows rested on the pillows.
She seemed to be in her twenties with a slender build, and slightly above average height. She had long pale auburn hair fashioned into a loose braid, and her eyes werecreepy. Very creepy.
They were bright yellow, with multiple red rings within them, giving her what I could only describe as an inhuman appearance.
She wore a simple white dress shirt with a black tie, and black slacks.
It was a look I think I recognised for some reason, but I just couldn't put my finger on it.
And then she turned to me.
"Hello," her voice was eerily serene and high-pitched, with not even a slight fluctuation to its tone.
It was a rehearsed voice.
As the world's leading expert on psycho women, I've developed the ability to categorize them from F-S depending on how dangerous they are.
Just from her voice, demeanor, and gaze alone, I can say with full certainty that I'd put this woman in the A category already.
"You wouldn't happen to know where this place is by any chance do you?" She asked me, tilting her a little to the left.
"No, unfortunately I'm just as clueless as you, but I think I can make a pretty good guess."
"Oh?"
"Did you die before you arrived here?"
She put her finger on her lower lip, seemingly trying to recall something. "Death? Yes, I think I died."
"You think?" I repeated in question form, how can you not know whether you died or not? Unless it happened mid-surgery or something.
"The circumstances were strange," she refused to elaborate any further.
"I see, I on the other hand am confident I died, therefore I can only assure this place is some sort of afterlife. Although, that still raises the question why we're the only people here." I looked around the lounge, eventually finding another door on the other end.
"Don't bother, I already tried opening it." She said before I could even make the suggestion, causing my lips to curl into a frown.