The Wraith

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.

She should.

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.

1 thought on “The Wraith”

  1. Lovely writing, just the thing for a first grade teacher to read after a day like today. (More than a LITTLE dark, but well done.)

    Like

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