The Corpse Ride (Patreon)

It was Friday night, and Cyrus was on the hunt for some pussy. He struck out at bar after bar, although he was sure it wasn't because of his charm, which was practiced and perfect. The girls were just stuck-up and didn't know a good lay when they saw one, he thought.

It was getting a little too late and he had drank a little too much and he was wondering if he should hit one more bar, when he saw a striking white-furred woman standing at a street corner. She stood out in the dark evening, just off the main drag. She stared out into the intersection, and made no move to cross.

Cyrus directed his legs toward her, and willed his slurred words into conversation. She smiled at his banter and jokes, which was the best reaction he'd had all night, although she didn't say anything. Cyrus liked that. He invited her to his place, taking her arm in his, and she compliantly went along with him.

Cyrus was not seen again, and a search of his apartment turned up no evidence of where he had gone, nor any indication of foul play. All that was left behind was an unusually musty and damp smell in the bedroom, which would not abate, no matter how much the room was aired out.