creative writing · Fiction · Writing

Bitten

The children dance, as children do, unaware of the predators quietly lurking in their midst. Even as the doors swing closed and the first blood begins to be spilled, the dancing continues of a different sort; panicked cries and feet frozen in fear, arms flailing as bodies amass at what should have been an exit. It is all the same to those red smirking smiles, teeth gnashing in mirth as their pray attempt to flee. There is no escape, not truly, for the teeth are everywhere.

One girl had known of the presence of such bloody thieves, and attempted to warn her contemporaries, only to be taken aside and warned of demise should she not allow what would happen. The man was older and his hands firm on her shoulder as he guided her back to the party, where she proceeded to gather what few she could and escape through the bathroom windows.

A chase followed. She did not escape, held silenced against the very creature to warn her of her transgressions. She watched as her fellow party-goers were one by one caught and bled dry to sate the thirst of such creatures, until all but she remained, held firm in the arms of an adversary she could do nothing to protect herself against.

But oh, he had so much more planned for her, he would say. Such fire would not be wasted in death. Teeth pricked the girl’s neck but she could not scream, or even cry out in pain. Her probation period was over, and she has proven to be useful.

She will be kept.

 

 


This piece was inspired by a dream I once had (during, of course, my vampire phase, where I read everything I could about the creatures). It was definitely an interesting dream, to say the least.

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