Even after the world ends, freaks like you still want to get their dicks wet.

You weren't sure when you started having the hots for monsters... but you couldn't afford to be picky.
Especially if one decided it wanted to invite you for a date.

Kaeley's shop was hard to distinguish from other repurposed apartments after the Cataclysm. The helpful spraypaint on the front of the wall communicated that she was one of the lucid Cursed - scary-looking,
odd-behaving, functional.
Primitive symbols, a new language developed by the remnants of humanity - a smiley face, indicating that it was for fun.
Of course, that wasn't how you'd met her.

You first met when you were running from a huge jagged bird made of bony spines that had burst through the window.
Her apartment simply happened to be the closest nearby.

You tumbled forward through the door, slamming it behind you as the sound of slaughter echoed outside.

Then, you heard the clinking of keys, the creaking of floorboards.
It would be hard to forget what you saw that day.
Metal blocks with built-in doors and a matryoshka cascade of silver keys. A darkened room - and a murky giant.
Rattling, clattering - the Cursed being had waddled toward the entrance, blocking it off.
It moved closer, revealing a dozen pin-tumbler teeth that it manipulated with distended, jagged arms, breathing heavily as oversized jaws dripped a filmy saliva onto the floor. Every so often, a pin would click into position - and you'd notice a slight tremor run through its body.
It took another step closer.
Then she solicited you for money.
"K-k-aeley has keys! Kaeley sell them! Use keys, play game!"

A simple game. Locks and mazes.
She pointed deeper into the room - an array of walls and large metal blocks placed to create a labyrinth. Gift-boxes and supplies sat on tables deep into the maze, the ribbons glittering under flickering room lights.
...Who would be in the mood for something this basic?
You turned her down, scooching further towards the peeling wallpaper. How'd she even get an allotment from the Cult of Charan for a room this big?
You sat, waiting for the monster outside to leave. You could still hear the muffled screams.
Maybe some recreation would do you good.

You fished around in your wallet, handing over the cash - and to your surprise, she clapped in delight, dancing and swaying back and forth on pairs of legs, like a bizarre inflatable tubewoman.
Behind the eye that almost sat too loose in her jagged eyesocket, her sagging eyelids quivered.
"K-kh-Kaeley is glad! A game of luck and chance! New friend... will enjoy."

You probably shouldn't tell her that there was no luck involved. Simple enough, right? You could peer over the walls and blocks, plan out your route. Basic stuff.
The keys she gave you were flimsy - they broke off in the doors the moment you opened them. You swear you could see her tumbler-teeth grin wider each time it happened.

Each time, she got you to fork over a little more money. By the fourth key, you realized you were thoroughly in the grips of the sunk-cost fallacy.

But just as you slid the another key into the door that led into a room with a cool-looking crowbar - Kaeley's apartment door exploded in a shower of splinters. The bird monster broke through, letting out a screech that rattled the locks in the room.
Kaeley simply walked over, opened her mouth - and crushed the bird between her teeth. A sound like throwing sawblades into an industrial grinder forced your hands to your ears, before she spat out the body. She kicked the body to the side with an annoyed huff.
Then, she spoke again.
"Keep playing."
Like a carny running a game stall - she drained you of all the contents of your wallet that evening.
You won a gift box of soap that night. You weren't sure where she even got the stuff.

It made cleaning off your blood-splattered shoes easier that night.

Maybe not that much changed in the end, despite the monster attacks. It was a little shocking how normal it became to bring a weapon with you wherever you went.
Existence under Charan's rule wasn't too bad, compared to the other Hundred Gods. But quality of life was still down across the board!
Clean water, real food, shelter... everything was harder to find.
Except entertainment.

Kaeley's occupation proved to be a competitive field. While the internet was far from restored - digital media still proved to be a difficult opponent in the post-Cataclysm world.
People ran little stalls and activities through their apartments, but Kaeley's paled in comparison, owing to her physique.
The only thing on offer was some sort of primitive escape room that she had roped you into when you'd first met.
You'd asked around - and it seemed like very few people even played Kaeley's game, even though it was trivial to get the prizes. Maybe they just couldn't afford it. Maybe they thought it was too boring compared to another run of Jumplad.

As for you...
It wasn't clear why you kept coming back.
Was it curiosity? A deathwish? Just because a Cursed was marked as lucid didn't mean you couldn't piss them off and suddenly get assimilated or devoured.

But each time you did... you tried a different route. She'd reset the doors overnight, reset the prices of her keys... and you'd do it all over again.
Once a week.
You found yourself helping out around the apartment complex a lot more. There were always more jobs to do.
Helping talk the hand-soldiers through their PTSD,reorganizing Mutt's inventory, or even exterminating those worms that stubbornly swarmed through the vents... you found that you had a reason to actually do work for once, beyond survival.
Then, you started helping her plan out her puzzles more. It didn't do all that much for her reputation - who wanted to play escape rooms when they were already trapped indoors, away from the monsters outside?

Things didn't change much for her circumstance - not that she particularly needed the money. She mostly used it to buy more keys.
But she smiled more.
Kaeley's smile was hideous. But seeing her happy brought you some sense of contentment.
Nobody else seemed to visit, beyond the curious player or two who'd try the game once and never return. But did she have family? Friends? Anyone who survived the Cataclysm with their lives and sanity intact?
You asked, once.

The way her arms stilled, her singular eye unable to meet yours as she recounted her life beforehand.
A simple locksmith. An ugly woman making ends meet. Five friends, living in an apartment.
An opened window. A metamorphosis.
Hives, clowns, dragon cosplay and an absence.
And Kaeley, left alone at the end of it all.

She clarified - her last friend, Pierre, had moved away to try and spread joy in the world.
When she spoke of him, there was a lingering pain, an unspoken question.
Where was any of that for her?

You hugged her that evening - and her arms flew out, surprised by the motion. Your head rested against her bare flesh, near the cavity where her belly should have been.
Gingerly, tenderly, her pointed arms wrapped around you, bony, jagged and appreciative.
"You... don't need to pay. Just come visit Kaeley, yes?"

She didn't need to ask twice. Sometimes, you stayed the night - on nights where you felt worried about being attacked, you slept on her couch. Sometimes she stood watch at the door, which you helped her repair a few days ago.

You were falling for her, weren't you?
You were never particularly into normal women, even before the Cataclysm.
Most didn't take chances with the Cursed, except other Cursed.

But Kaeley seemed a bit different.
She was strange - but what Cursed wasn't?

Admittedly, there was something alluring to her.
The sound whenever she moved - clicks and whirs, as her teeth slid up and down in her gums.
The way the keyholes in her body would pulse, like she was breathing through all of them at once.
But one time - you had touched her when you went to grab a key.
Warm, slightly clammy. Despite her blackened skin and horrifying appearance - she was alive.
A reminder that the woman in front of you was still a woman, even if she was no longer human by most standards.

You kept visiting, as she asked. She became part of your life. Became... normal to you.

That's the thing about humanity. As you get used to a situation, you start paying attention to little things more.

How her singular eye would dilate when she locked eyes with you.
How she'd fidget in place when she touched you.
How... her keyholes seemed a little moist when you leaned against her, planning puzzles on her couch.

It was more than obvious once she leaned in, her clattering teeth right behind your head...
And she just inhaled. A whirring purr rumbled in her oversized neck.
Oh, Christ. She was making a pass at you.

Back in the present, you stood, paralyzed in front of her door.
That brought you to today.
An invitation. An envelope.
A key, stained with lubricant.

It smelled faintly of rust... and of Kaeley.

God, what a weird woman.
That would be the equivalent of mailing you a sextoy, wouldn't it?

Thoughts race through your head as your dominant hand grips the doorknob.
Was this all a ploy? Maybe she was playing the long game. Or maybe you'd screw it up somehow. Things always could go wrong.
You shake your head.
No - there's no going back any more.
You - are a man. You're here to bed a woman.
And by god, you were going to do it, even if she's only got keyholes.

Pushing the door open, you announce your presence by calling her name. At first, you can't even see the corners of her apartment, a veil of shadow clinging to the creases and folds in the walls.
It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the gloom.

You notice the pinpricks of light, first.
Dozens, hung up by thin, grubby string.
Keys.
Dangling from the ceiling, dozens have been arranged around the apartment, catching the light from under the door. They almost look like stars.
Then, you see her.
Naked as she ever was - but splayed across her mattress, a tell-tale narrowing of her singular eye.
"K-kh-Kaeley has many keys... see?"

She shifted atop the bed, the multitudes of her keyholes throbbing in time with her clicking teeth and heavy breaths.
Even now, her digits poke and prod at her pins, and for the first time, you hear her moan, a rattling tremor that echoes off the walls.

An arm gestures towards the ceiling. Another beckons you, jingling keys dangling off of a digit.
"Well? You want to play?"

Her misshapen hand sways, the keys jingling as her gaze drags down over you.
"Or maybe... you have own k-kh-key, in pocket? For Kaeley."