The Problems With Conspiracy Theory [vore]

Part 1

I saw the boy escort her in. I watched through binoculars from my hiding spot on the other side of the street, hidden behind a bush, as Lena went in gracefully, somehow seductively. I knew, as the boy closed the door behind her, that I'd need to find a better vantage. It didn't matter that I'd be trespassing on their land. The boy's parents weren't home, that much I had overheard at school. I lunged across the street when I knew no one was around. I crept over to a window that didn't have the shades pulled down, watching Lena and the boy to see what they would do.

This wasn't the first boy that'd asked her over to their house before. Not the first of this month, not even this week's. When Lena transferred to our high school a little less than two months ago, she was an instant attractant of attention. She was beautiful, and exuded an innocence that intoxicated anyone she turned her gaze on. At first most guys were quite intimidated, myself included. But then someone got up the nerve to ask her over to their house, and after her happy agreement, everyone relaxed and felt at ease to ask if she was busy on such-and-such a day.

Not me.

From day one, I suspected her. I knew she had to be up to something with that act she put on, the innocent pretty girl glad to accept an invitation to anyone's house. There had to be something more, else why would she act so normal with those amazing looks, the gorgeous body she possessed.

I was right, in an indirect way. Every boy she visited, upon their invitation only—she had never invited anyone to her house yet—disappeared. Just like that. There one day, the next day‒gone. Many people found it odd, but no one raised alarm, except for the ex-girlfriends of the guys who had believed the rumors that the things Lena did were so sensual that you could only experience them once, and had planned on asking her if they might experience that too, dumping those old girlfriends to obsess over Lena.

An official fan club was even started in the school for her.

I, on the other hand, tried to ignore the distraction and focus on my schoolwork. My grades were slipping in english, and none of my computer programming (or hacking) skills could boost it. So my last (and only) resort was to study nightly.

But curiosity eventually got the best of me. I wanted to know what was making those boys disappear. And, more importantly, I didn't want to disappear myself. So when I saw yet another boy (predictably) ask her over for the night and I saw her smile as she accepted, I knew that I'd use the chance to find out just what it was that made those other guys go poof while the girls she visited didn't.

So now here I was, watching as Lena and the guy undressed and began exploring with their hands.

It was pretty gross actually, and I wanted to look away and go barf somewhere, but that wouldn't help me to get to the heart of the matter. So I kept watching uncomfortably. I was pretty sure the boy had recently said he was a virgin—and was proud of it, if the rumors were true—but he definitely wouldn't be in the next few minutes.

About thirty minutes of awkward spying later, I continued to watch, my poor eyes burning, as the two unpeeled themselves from each other and Lena got up from the floor, heading somewhere. The fact that the plight of the boy was my main objective to find was the only thing that prevented me from moving windows to watch an unclothed Lena strutting around. I soon became glad I'd stayed, as Lena didn't take long, but came back with a wicked-looking meat knife. She seemed to ask the boy a question, and after receiving a nod from him, she swung the blade down.

It was bloody. It was terrifying. She chopped with the knife again and again, chopping the boy up, starting with his legs and arms. Somehow, as I look on with horrified fascination, it seemed like the boy in question was enjoying the treatment, that having her shred him up was the best experience of his life. He was screaming with delight, and I could start to hear his hollers through the glass. "More! Harder! Faster!" It confused me. Why, or more importantly, how, was he deriving any sort of pleasure from this?

She finally hit something vital, and he went silent.

A few minutes later, after more thorough mincing, she began doing something even more disgusting—she started putting the pieces of him in her mouth and swallowing them!

I turned away from the macabre scene, very disturbed and more than a little queasy. I only made it a few steps before my stomach lurched.

I tottered home, wiping the bile from my lips.

Instead of studying for English like I did every school night to date, I went on my computer upstairs and began to research Lena Durhartson.

I found her facebook account, and a few other things too. I hacked them all, and absorbed what I read.

It seemed like what I'd seen just a mere half hour ago wasn't a one-time occurrence. Many people talked about how they planned on asking her out for the best night of their lives. It didn't seem like there had ever been a case or police filing against her though, neither here nor in any other of the towns and cities she'd lived in before.

Or, perhaps, maybe they tried, but they didn't succeed? Perhaps she may have seduced them too?

All I had was speculation.

Nonetheless, when I went into my first-period math class the next morning, I couldn't help but think about how dangerous this charmingly, cunningly innocent girl was. Somehow that boy, and many others, had all been entirely agreeable to getting chopped up and eaten by her. I wasn't going to be another one of her victims.

That thought, as well as my conviction, fled my mind the instant she yawned and stretched, raising her arms in the air and closing her eyes, mouth open wide. She really had a nice figure. Her mentionable chest notwithstanding, her bare midriff and the tight, skin toned leggings stretched over her slender, long legs were enough to seduce almost anyone. I couldn't help staring when she accidentally showed off her body like this.

Mid-stretch, one of her stunning green eyes slid open. And. Looked. Right. At. Me.

This was no accident, part of her seeming innate lack of knowledge about how above and beyond her body shape was. No. She'd done this for me. To draw my attention. To see if I was watching.

She smiled pleasantly in my direction.

No. I couldn't let her distract me. I focused on my shoes. Remembered what it was she did to guys. I didn't want to share their fate, did I?

Yet I still felt my cheeks burning from her attention.

It wasn't the first time this sort of thing had happened, either. After about a month after she moved to our school, she started searching for my eyes as we passed in the hallway. She waved, like we were friends. She even occasionally sat with my table at lunch. I didn't know if she had a crush on me or if she was trying to attract me. After seeing what happened to guys who went with her in private, I guessed the latter was true. But that didn't help, because her charm was working. I found her funny and nice to be around, same as everyone else, which made it hard to change how I felt about her, even knowing what she did to boys in her downtime. But somehow I had to. I needed to hold out. I couldn't invite her over, no matter how easy and tempting it was.

I needed to stop her before she ate all the male population of the school. Already over thirty boys had disappeared. Presumably by her.

But how?