The Scary Salad Eater Valentine's Day Edition

We've done it. We've made it once again to the most special time of year. A time for lovers. A time for dreamers. A time when some hearts glow, some become broken, and others are consumed.

Don't fret. A normal heart is bland. Only the most lovestruck hearts, the ones burning with a passion for true love, are ripe for harvesting. Oh, is that you? Well then you may want to proceed with caution.

FEBRUARY HORRORSCOPES WITH MISTRESS OBSIDIAN

Darlings… hush. Come closer.

February has arrived wrapped in lace and leaking red. The mortals call it Valentine’s Day. How quaint. How optimistic.

You insist this is a month for flowers, for folded cards and trembling confessions. But I—Mistress Obsidian, Widow of Desire and High Priestess of the Blade—know what really blooms this time of year.

Clinging that bruises. Devotion that sharpens its teeth. Love that wants proof… and isn’t picky about the form it takes.

The stars stagger through candlelight this month, drunk on obsession. They murmur promises they cannot keep, then lean back to watch who bleeds first.

You want to be chosen. You want to be adored. You want to be ruined gently.

Lovely.

Bare your throat. Unfasten your heart. Let me tell you how Valentine’s the 14th finds each of you.

♈ ARIES — Love at First Wound

You fall fast this month, little flame—recklessly, beautifully, without checking the exit. Desire strikes you like a blade slipped between ribs: hot, shocking, impossible to ignore. You confuse intensity with fate and charge straight toward it, convinced the pain means something special.

 But this month, love doesn’t chase you. It collides with you.

 Advice: If they say “I’d die for you,” ask what they’re willing to kill.

 Lucky Number: 14 heartbeats before regret.

 Lucky Charm: A wilted rose with thorns still slick.

♉ TAURUS — Sweet Enough to Bleed

Comfort calls to you in a syrupy voice, Taurus. Plush booths. Warm hands. Desserts meant for two. Valentine’s tempts you into stillness, into lingering too long where you feel adored. Unfortunately, you smell delicious this month—safe, soft, ripe for claiming. Something watches you indulge. Something patient. Advice: Not every embrace is shelter. Lucky Number: 3 indulgences too many. Lucky Charm: A heart-shaped box that hums when opened.

♊ GEMINI — Double Date with Death

Two versions of you flirt their way through February, Gemini, and both think they’re in control. You juggle affection like a party trick, swearing it’s harmless fun—until someone decides exclusivity is non-negotiable. Words become weapons. Silence becomes threat. Advice: Choose clarity before someone chooses permanence for you. Lucky Number: 2 unread messages that matter too much. Lucky Charm: A cracked mirror that won’t show your full face.

♋ CANCER — Bleeding Heart Club

You love with your whole body, Cancer. Every nerve. Every memory. Valentine’s Day magnifies that tenderness until it becomes visible—palpable—something others can reach for without permission.

 You offer comfort. Someone takes ownership.

 Advice: Protect your softness. It’s not a public resource.

 Lucky Number: 13 nights you stayed too late.

 Lucky Charm: A locket warm long after it’s closed.

♌ LEO — Center of the Crime Scene

You shine brightest in February, Leo, and attention pools around you like candle wax. Admiration turns heated. Compliments sharpen. Someone decides that loving you means possessing you—and that the spotlight belongs to them alone. Advice: Devotion should never dim your light. Lucky Number: 1 admirer who knows too much. Lucky Charm: Lipstick smeared like evidence.

♍ VIRGO — Perfectly Planned Betrayal

You curate love carefully, Virgo. Every detail considered. Valentine’s mocks precision. Chaos slips through the cracks—messy passion, sloppy promises, emotions you can’t sanitize. You try to fix it. That’s when it breaks you instead. Advice: Not everything needs improvement. Some things need escape. Lucky Number: 0 flaws you admit aloud. Lucky Charm: A ribbon cut too clean.

♎ LIBRA — Til Death Do Us Part (Sooner Than Expected)

You balance affection like a tightrope act, Libra, desperate to keep everyone pleased. Valentine’s punishes hesitation. While you weigh options, someone decides the choice has already been made—and it’s you. Advice: Harmony isn’t worth erasure. Lucky Number: 2 hands pulling you opposite ways. Lucky Charm: A wine glass chipped at the rim.

♏ SCORPIO — Kiss with a Body Count

You were born for this month, Scorpio. Desire thickens around you. Secrets cling. Valentine’s feeds your intensity—and reflects it back doubled. Someone meets your gaze and refuses to look away, no matter how dangerous it gets. Advice: Passion doesn’t need proof in blood. Lucky Number: 6 buried confessions. Lucky Charm: A blade wiped clean… imperfectly.

♐ SAGITTARIUS — No Strings, Just Knives

You swear you’re unattached, Sagittarius, but Valentine’s corners you with expectations. A fling turns fixation. Laughter turns pursuit. Someone decides freedom is something to take from you. Advice: If your instincts scream “run,” listen. Lucky Number: 1 door you should’ve locked. Lucky Charm: A motel key that won’t leave your pocket.

♑ CAPRICORN — Business Before Pleasure (Fatal Error)

You treat love like an investment, Capricorn—measured risk, controlled exposure. Valentine’s disrupts your strategy. Someone mistakes your reserve for challenge and works slowly, deliberately, to break it open. Advice: Emotional armor still leaves marks. Lucky Number: 404 boundaries not found. Lucky Charm: A calendar page torn in half.

♒ AQUARIUS — Love Like an Experiment

Detached and curious, Aquarius, you observe affection like a phenomenon. Valentine’s turns the tables. You become the subject. Someone tests how far you’ll bend before you break. Advice: Curiosity cuts both ways. Lucky Number: 9 unanswered “why”s. Lucky Charm: A Valentine card written with trembling hands.

♓ PISCES — Drowning in Devotion

You dissolve into romance this month, Pisces. Valentine’s wraps you in fantasy until you forget where you end and they begin. When reality cracks, you’re already submerged. Advice: Love should not feel like suffocation. Lucky Number: 7 tears before dawn. Lucky Charm: A candle burned down to nothing.

Now go, my loves. Kiss carefully. Trust sparingly. And remember—on Valentine’s the 14th, the heart is just another target.

Mistress Obsidian is watching. 

FEATURED STORY: A VERITABLE BUFFET!

By C. Rommial Butler

The second Samson was suspended in a state of terror, as the implications were well understood. Something had eaten his dogs, sucking every piece of flesh, muscle, and organ, leaving only cracked and splintered bones. 

Frozen by terror, wonder, and the Arctic cold, Samson didn’t register the sensation of tentacles sneaking around his legs until they were crawling halfway up his back. 

By the time he started to turn, it was too late.

Full Story Here!

SALAD SIREN INTERVIEW MADAM VALENTINE VIREX

🥬 LETTUCE HEAD 

This month, Salad Eaters, I put on my least-stained velvet blazer, dab on something that might be cologne or might be formaldehyde, and step straight into the candlelit danger zone.

She’s not your Valentine. She’s not your ex. She’s the reason people stop answering texts forever.

Wrapped in torn lace and blood-red satin, carrying a bouquet of wilted roses tied together with police tape, she’s desire with a body count.

Hide your hearts. Lock your doors. Here comes Madame Valentine Virex.

THE INTERVIEW

Lettuce Head: “Well hello there, Madame Virex. I gotta say—wow. You look like if love letters got stabbed in an alley. Absolutely radiant.”

Madame Valentine Virex: “Careful, Lettuce Head. Compliments sound better when they’re quiet. I prefer my admirers nervous.”

Lettuce Head: “Noted! Extremely noted. So—you’re the embodiment of Valentine’s obsession, the ghost in the heart-shaped box. How did you come to… uh… prominence?”

Madame Valentine Virex: “I appear every February when affection curdles. When longing becomes fixation. When someone says ‘I just want you to myself’ and means it. I don’t create obsession—I finish it.”

Lettuce Head: “Chills. Literal chills. Now, rumor has it you don’t just haunt lovers… you claim them. What exactly are you looking for in a Valentine?”

Madame Valentine Virex: “I like devotion that doesn’t ask permission. The ones who confuse romance with ownership. They’re so eager to prove their love. I simply… test it.”

Lettuce Head: “Okay, wow, that’s—terrifying but also weirdly poetic? And can we talk about your outfit for a second? Is that lace, or—”

Madame Valentine Virex: “Lace, yes. Stitched together from old wedding veils and restraining orders. Very breathable. Very final.”

Lettuce Head: “…I am learning so much tonight. Tell me—what kind of mortals tend to attract your attention on Valentine’s Day?”

Madame Valentine Virex: “The desperate. The lonely. The ones refreshing their phone every thirty seconds. Anyone who thinks love is something you can trap before midnight.”

Lettuce Head: “Haha… yeah… totally normal stuff. Hypothetically—purely hypothetically—what do you find romantic?”

Madame Valentine Virex: “A locked door. A stopped watch. Someone realizing too late they were never alone.”

Lettuce Head: “Right! Great answer! Absolutely not for me personally, but beautiful. Last question before I respectfully retreat—what’s your favorite Valentine’s treat?”

Madame Valentine Virex: “Hearts that beat faster when they shouldn’t. Or chocolate-covered strawberries. Depends on my mood.”

Lettuce Head: “And there you have it, Salad Eaters—Madame Valentine Virex, the Siren of Obsession, patron saint of unanswered texts, and the reason February has a higher missing persons rate.

If someone tells you ‘I can’t live without you’ this Valentine’s… Believe them.

And start running.”

THE FINAL FREEZE

By Hawk AI

The lack of icy winds lulled us into a false sense of comfort. It appeared the warming was taking place. But it wasn't finished with us yet...

MR. MANICOTTI’S VALENTINE’S THE 14TH SURVIVAL GUIDE

For readers who wish to survive February with their organs, autonomy, and romantic autonomy intact.

Ay—HEY. Yeah, YOU. Put the heart-shaped candy down.

It’s February. The air smells like cheap perfume, bad decisions, and intent. And if you think Valentine’s Day is about love, you already halfway dead.

This holiday ain’t about romance. It’s about selection.

Somebody’s always choosing. Somebody’s always getting chosen. And somebody—statistically YOU—is about to get kept.

Lucky for you, Mr. Manicotti has survived fourteen Valentine’s Days, three engagements, one mass haunting, and a situation with a bow-shaped knife I legally can’t describe.

So read slow. Read twice. And if anything I say makes you uncomfortable? GOOD. That means you’re still alive.

1. DO NOT ACCEPT ANYTHING “FROM THE HEART.”

Chocolate. Notes. Jewelry. Mixed tapes. Organs.

If it’s heart-shaped, heart-adjacent, or accompanied by the phrase “I made this for you”, you assume it is weaponized affection.

Rule of Thumb: If it beats, bleeds, or smells like strawberries? DECLINE POLITELY AND BACK AWAY.

2. NEVER GO ON A “SURPRISE DATE.”

Surprises are for birthday parties and ambush predators.

If someone says:

• “Don’t worry about where we’re going”

• “Trust me”

• “It’s romantic if you don’t ask questions”

You ask ALL the questions. Or you fake a stomach ache and vanish like a ghost with IBS.

Surprise dates end in:

• basements

• locked cars

• vows you didn’t agree to

3. EAT ALONE BEFORE SEEING ANYONE YOU LIKE.

Romantic meals weaken your defenses.

Candlelight lowers reaction time. Wine makes you forgiving. Fondue is a trap invented by demons with law degrees.

Eat first. Eat greasy. Eat loud. A full stomach is harder to drag.

4. IF SOMEONE SAYS “WE’RE SOULMATES,” CHECK FOR A RECEIPT.

Nobody just finds their soulmate on February 14th.

That’s scheduling. That’s stalking with confidence. That’s someone who’s been watching your patterns since at least January.

Ask follow-up questions. If they answer too fast? RUN.

5. DO NOT SHARE PLAYLISTS.

Playlists are spells.

You think it’s just songs. Next thing you know, every track makes you think of them. Then you’re humming it while digging a shallow grave together “for bonding.”

If they insist, demand something neutral. Like elevator music. Or Gregorian chants.

6. NEVER WEAR RED ON THE FIRST DATE.

Red means:

• available

• edible

• willing to be part of a ritual

Wear gray. Wear brown. Wear “I work in accounting and fear joy.”

Predators get bored fast.

7. IF THEY WANT TO “STAY IN,” INSPECT THE LOCKS.

Staying in is fine. Being kept is not.

Check:

• windows

• doors

• closets

• crawl spaces

If the vibe feels off and the lights flicker when they touch you? CONGRATULATIONS, YOU’RE IN A ROMANTIC THRILLER.

Exit stage left.

8. DO NOT FALL ASLEEP FIRST.

Never. Ever. That’s when vows get carved in. That’s when promises get whispered into your bones.

If you feel sleepy:

• stand up

• drink water

• fake a phone call from “your cousin the cop”

Sleep is consent-adjacent and I don’t trust it.

9. GIFTS THAT ARE TOO PERSONAL ARE A WARNING.

If they somehow know:

• your childhood nickname

• your favorite obscure candy

• the exact scar you hide

That’s not romance. That’s research.

Accept the gift. Then dispose of it safely. Preferably with fire.

10. IF YOU HEAR “I’D DIE FOR YOU”… LEAVE.

Normal people do not offer death as a Valentine.

That’s escalation language.

 Next comes “I’d kill for you.”

MR. MANICOTTI’S FINAL VALENTINE WISDOM

“Love don’t gotta hurt. But Valentine’s? Valentine’s always collects a body.”

So keep your heart guarded. Keep your exits clear. And remember—

If the night ends with roses on the table and a knife under the pillow?

You picked the wrong damn restaurant.

See you next issue, if you’re smart. If not… I’ll pour out some sauce for ya.

 Ten coms paperwork.

GRAVE MOOD RINGS INTERVIEW

MAD: Professor! Thanks so much for taking some time with us at Horror to Culture and the Scary Salad Network! Can you please give viewers a little insight into what they might expect from Grave Mood Rings, and how did the concept come about?

PROF: A recent viewer of our show commented, "Stop putting acid in my tea!" Grave Mood Rings is typically seen as trippy and Dada in the sense of absurdist humor. We lovingly poke fun at vintage tv horror, with rapid-fire jokes and ridiculous situations within a 1970s vampiric manor house. One main inspiration has been the classic slow-moving Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows, but nothing's slow in our treatment. We make up for a zero budget by pouring hours of intricate post-production into literally ever second. The series actually started as a one-off interruption of my show Prof. Oddfellow's Penetralia, as if another broadcast surreally started tuning into the wrong frequency and the two shows suddenly overlapped. But we loved the characters enough to keep bringing them back (and, ahem, it felt good to get more mileage out of the costumes).

Full Interview

💋 CREEPY LINGUINE’S COCKTAIL CORNER

From the Devil’s Eldest Daughter herself

“You can taste the longing. The bad decisions. The text you almost sent but shouldn’t have. Go on, sugar—sip. Valentine’s Day was never about love anyway.”

• Creepy Linguine

THE TALE — “THE LAST DATE”

They say this cocktail was first poured at a candlelit dinner for two that never quite ended.

A small bistro. One table. Two place settings. The reservation was made under both names… even though only one person showed up.

As the story goes, the bartender watched the second glass fill itself. Watched condensation crawl up the stem like a nervous hand. When asked who the drink was for, a voice answered softly from the empty chair:

“She’s always late.”

The lights flickered. The roses on the table blackened. The drink turned the color of a fresh bruise.

By the time the check arrived, only one coat was left on the rack. But the glass was drained.

Now the cocktail appears every Valentine’s Day—at bars, at dinner parties, beside beds where someone’s heart is working overtime. It seeks the lonely, the hopeful, and the dangerously nostalgic.

If a coupe glass slides toward you without anyone touching it—lipstick already smeared, ice sweating like it knows something—don’t drink it.

It remembers everyone who ever promised “this time is different.”

THE RECIPE — “THE BLEEDING HEART”

(Serves one romantic optimist with poor impulse control)

You will need:

• 2 oz vodka

• 2 oz cranberry juice

• ½ oz lime juice (fresh or bottled)

• ½ oz grenadine

• Ice

Optional garnish (but encouraged):

• Maraschino cherry

• Lime wedge

Everything here can be found at a regular grocery store or basic liquor shop. No summoning circles required.

🕯️ INSTRUCTIONS

Fill a glass with ice. The bigger the cubes, the slower the regret.

Pour in vodka, cranberry juice, lime juice, and grenadine. Stir gently—this drink prefers patience over violence.

Watch the color swirl from bright Valentine pink into something deeper. More honest.

Garnish with a cherry if you’re feeling bold. Or leave it bare if you’re feeling doomed.

Take a sip. If you suddenly feel like texting someone you swore you were over… blame the drink.

LINGUINE’S NOTE — “THE KISS OF BAD DECISIONS” VARIANT

To make it stronger:

• Swap 1 oz of cranberry juice for dark rum or more vodka

Perfect for:

• first dates that feel like reruns

• breakups that “ended amicably”

• anyone saying “just one drink”

Warning: May cause emotional honesty, dramatic playlists, and romantic hindsight that arrives too late.

Drink responsibly. Or don’t. Creepy Linguine won’t judge. 💋🩸

THE BAD ADVICE COLUMN: VALENTINE’S THE 14th EDITION

Write in with your problems. Leave with regrets.

LETTER #1: “AM I IN LOVE OR JUST OBSESSED?”

Dear Salad, I’ve been seeing someone for a few weeks and I can’t stop thinking about them. I check their socials constantly, reread our messages, and get upset when they don’t respond fast enough. Is this love? Or am I losing it?

—Watching the Typing Bubble

🕯️ MISTRESS OBSIDIAN:

Oh, darling… obsession is simply love that has stopped pretending to be polite.

Why would you not watch them? Attention is nourishment. Longing is worship. The ache in your chest is just your heart learning its place.

My advice? Lean in. Cancel other plans. Memorize their routines. Let your desire tighten like a silk cord around both your throats.

If they pull away, that only means you must hold harder.

After all—if it hurts, it’s real. 

LETTER #2: “SHOULD I TEXT MY EX ON VALENTINE’S DAY?”

Dear Salad, We broke up months ago but I keep thinking about them. Valentine’s Day feels… symbolic. Would it be so bad to just check in?

—Definitely Over Them

🍝🔪 MR. MANICOTTI:

YES. ABSOLUTELY. DO IT.

But listen—don’t just text “hey.” That’s amateur hour. You gotta hit ’em with something emotionally destabilizing. Like:

“Hey. Hope you’re alive. Valentine’s made me think of you.”

Then you wait. You let the silence ferment. If they respond fast? You got power. If they don’t? You send a second message explaining why you shouldn’t have sent the first.

Either way—CHAOS ACHIEVED.

Worst case scenario? You spiral for three days and block them again. That’s called closure, baby.

LETTER #3: “HOW DO I FLIRT WITHOUT BEING AWKWARD?”

Dear Salad, I’m terrible at flirting. I freeze up, say weird things, and regret everything immediately. Any tips?

—Accidentally Said “You Too” at a Funeral Once

🥬💘 LETTUCE HEAD:

Oh buddy. First of all—awkward is HOT. Confidence is overrated. Fear keeps things interesting.

Here’s what you do: Maintain eye contact just a second too long. Smile like you know a secret. Then say something confusing but sincere. Example:

“If there was a killer on the loose, I’d want you between me and the knife.”

If they laugh? You’re in. If they don’t? You leave immediately and never return to that location.

Flirting isn’t about being smooth. It’s about being memorable.

Trust me. I’ve been rejected professionally.

LETTER #4: “IS IT OKAY TO FALL FOR SOMEONE I JUST MET?”

Dear Salad, I met someone recently and it feels intense. Like, instantly intense. Everyone says I’m moving too fast, but it feels right. Should I slow down?

—Already Picked Baby Names

🔪 CREEPY LINGUINE RESPONDS:

Slow down? On Valentine’s Day? Oh sweetheart, no.

Intensity is a gift. Rare. Flammable.

If it feels like fate, assume it is. Rearrange your life. Make room. Overshare. Confess feelings under candlelight or fluorescent lighting—both work.

Love is a gamble. The trick is betting everything before you get scared.

Worst case? You crash and burn and write a song about it later.

Best case? You disappear together.

Either way—delicious.

LETTER #5: “HOW DO I KNOW IF SOMEONE REALLY LOVES ME?”

Dear Salad, They say they love me, but sometimes I wonder if it’s real or just habit. How can you tell?

—Uncertain but Hopeful

🕯️ MISTRESS OBSIDIAN :

Love proves itself through sacrifice.

Do they give up sleep for you? Plans? Friends? Autonomy?

If they haven’t bled for you—emotionally or otherwise—how serious can it be?

Ask for more. If they hesitate, you already have your answer.

REMEMBER, SALAD EATERS: This advice is free for a reason. Use it recklessly. Blame us later.

DISCLAIMER

Following advice from Scary Salad may result in sudden pursuit, poor hiding choices, final-girl delusions, improvised weapons, loss of limbs, loss of friends, decapitation, and realizing too late that the basement door locks from the outside.

Read responsibly. Run faster.

WARNING: BODY COUNT MAY VARY

Scary Salad is not responsible for injuries sustained while:

• trusting the wrong person,

• investigating a noise alone,

• saying “I’ll be right back,”

• or falling in love on a holiday with a kill streak.

If the music stops, it’s already too late.

🎥 VHS SAFETY NOTICE

The advice contained herein has been linked to: masked figures in the background, heavy breathing where breathing shouldn’t be, sharp objects placed suggestively, and an increased chance of being “the next one.”

Viewer discretion is strongly advised. Survival not guaranteed.

🪓 READ BEFORE SCREAMING

Scary Salad assumes no liability for: stab wounds, chase scenes, third-act twists, false senses of security, or believing love makes you immune.

It doesn’t.