Happy Flash Fiction Friday, everyone! Just a heads up, this one is a little dark.
The room is dark, just how I like it. The light hurts my eyes, makes my insides twitch.
I walk across the dark to the pantry. The power could be out for all I knew of cared. Right now, I don’t miss it.
The dark and the cold make me feel like I’m still alive, instead of this cursed, half life.
I hear the muffled screams as I get to the pantry- music to my withered ears.
I don’t grasp the doorknob like some clumsy boy on prom night. No, instead, I caress it gently, lovingly.
I want to savor the next few minutes.
Eventually, I have to open the door, but when I do all the fun will be over.
Sighing, I open the door.
Inside there’s a woman, maybe all of twenty-six years. I’ve bound and gagged her.
Her pretty auburn hair is hanging down over her face in luscious tendrils. I coax one back behind her ear. Her pale, frightened face looks at me, terror twisting her features.
I stroke my fingers down her cheek. It’s wet and clammy from all the tears she’s cried. I wipe my hand on my pants before I kiss my fingers and press them to her temple.
She squirms and tries to twist away. I smile. She can’t, the space is too small.
I reach for her gag.
I want to hear her lovely voice scream. I want her to sing out her terror.
I do, and she does.
Pleasure, rich and dark, fills my empty veins.
I crouch down before her and she spits in my face. I smile.
They always taste better when they’ve got a little spirit in them.
I tip my head back and shake down my fangs. They click into place like magazine on a gun.
I look back at her and she screams.
If I could still see myself, I’d probably scream, too.
I thrust my face forward, like a rattlesnake.
She screams again and my mouth waters. I penetrate her lovely, pale skin with a little too much pressure.
I need to learn to pace myself. Next time, I suppose.
I lap at the warm river that flows out. It tastes like heaven and hell, damnation and redemption.
As her screams die with her, I force myself to stop.
I need to remember rule one: Never drink from the dead.