KATARINA: VAMPIRE (SLAY/LOV)ER

Part VIII - Date With Death

Later that night Katarina returned from her internship and went upstairs to her room to change. Unzipping her pencil skirt at the top of the stairs, as soon as she entered the room, she shimmied it down and off. She plopped down on her bed and kicked one flat off, then the other, unbuttoned her blouse and slipped her arms out through the sleeves. Reaching behind her with one hand she undid her bra.

"Favorite part of the day," she exclaimed as she pulled her bra off.

Katarina liked to dress up for herself. Why? Because she respected herself and it made her feel good. Already wearing stockings, a cute black lace crotchless thong and garter belt underneath her work attire she was halfway to being prepared for Derrick to arrive. Kat walked into her closet and pulled out her favorite corset, which matched her thong. Although easier to put on with the help of another, she clasped the front and looked in the mirror to lace up the back.

"Damn, I got it going on," she said as she winked at herself in the mirror. "I'd look better with my hair down though. Oh, well."

Kat made the strategic decision to leave her hair in her work bun. If things got out of hand, she wanted to give Derrick the least number of things to grab onto. Since it was autumn and a little chilly, she grabbed an oversized cardigan and slipped it on. A good mix of comfy, cute, and easy to take off; perfect for a no bullshit, get straight to business "date."

She mentally went over the checklist one more time.

"Alright, I've got the nylon rope with strands of silver woven in, candle infused with holy water, got a bible and a crucifix in the nightstand," she counted off on her fingers "wooden knife, silver knife, some garlic," she paused "and of course a blindfold, and a whipping paddle." Those two were just for fun.

"I really hope Mark was right and between being weak and lovestruck he can't sense that anything is awry," she also had multiple pagers on standby throughout the room in case of emergency. Yes, pagers. Archaic artifacts of the past, the sheriff's office still used them, and they were all programmed so with a press of a button Mark could be alerted to hopefully save the day. He would be staged in the garage the whole time, waiting on call fully armored in chain mail and Kevlar, armed to the brim to include the crossbow and a silver sword.

Kat promised it wouldn't come to that.

"I can take care of myself," she chanted for some reassurance.

Knock knock knock!

"Jesus fuck!" her soul just about jumped out of her body. "Guess he's here. I'm good, not on edge at all. Nope."

She tried to relax and steady her breathing as she made her way down the stairs.

As Kat neared the bottom of the stair, she noticed that apparently, she didn't shut the front door all the way, and the wind must have blown through the screen of the storm door and pushed it open.

"Great attention to detail to start the night," she thought.

She could see Derrick's athletic frame waiting for her. His left arm raised up, leaning on the door frame, other hand with just his thumb in his jean pocket. His flowing wavy jet-black hair half covering his face, his eyes concealed by aviator sunglasses. She noticed he was wearing a heather grey, half zipped up hoodie. It was odd to see him not wearing his letterman jacket, but the slim fitting hoodie accentuated his muscular figure; Kat couldn't help but notice the fabric of the hoodie skintight on his bicep of the arm that was raised.

Still leaning, he used his right hand to remove his sunglasses and placed them in the V of his V-neck t-shirt, weighing his collar down enough to reveal defined inner pec.