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He has chosen his victim and now he shall feed.
I wrote this for a competition and sadly didn't get very far but oh well, it's all in trial and error.

Submitted:Oct 28, 2012    Reads: 45    Comments: 2    Likes: 2   

He stared down at her with childish glee, his hollow eyes drinking in the scene of a victim yet to be slaughtered.

There was movement from the bed as she rolled over onto her side, facing him, giving him the chance to take in the details of her face as the light that came from the slit in the curtains beamed down on it. He had no doubt that she was going to be a screamer.

With fluid movement a hand like no other touched her face, strange, elongated and pointed black fingers stroking her cheek as a smirk crossed his face. The digits had no contours or features that could be described as human; he himself had no details like the human body would. In fact if a human was to lay eyes on him they would pass him off as nothing but a shadow, a black wisp from the imagination; which was perfect for him and his nightly deeds.

Humans dismissed the unknown too easily but it made his feeding so much easier.

He let a disappointed sigh escaped past his lips, he needed to hurry. Time wasn't on his side and the sun would rise soon, meaning he'd have to wait past the witching hour the next night before he could eat again…surely he'd starve if he waited that long.

Wasting no more time he placed his pointed fingertips to her temples and began to dig them into her flesh, shivering at the feeling of the skin that was enveloping them. The smell of blood reached his nostrils, making his stomach growl and his mouth salivate; this was going to be a delectable meal.

Her eyes shot open as she jolted awake, pain piercing through her skull, a loud scream erupted from her throat. Looking up she saw nothing but a large shadow looming over her, he watched in pleasure as fear filled her gaze and she began to squirm, begging to be left alone.

His black sockets took in every twisted detail of her face as it contorted with fear and agony, the best expressions any human could show. They lived their lives hoping, for some he'd even dare to say wishing, for love and happiness. He didn't, he lived for this moment, the moment his victims watched him in terror and confusion, the look which signalled the excellence in the execution of his job.

These were the moments he craved for; these were the moments he proved humans were nothing but food for beings like him.

With a dark chuckle he began to let his poison drip through his fingertips, injecting it directly into her bloodstream. In a few minutes she would be paralyzed, nothing but a frozen subject who'd have to endure the torture of his feeding long before she was gratified with the peaceful bliss death.

Once he felt that enough of his poison was injected he begrudgingly pulled his fingers out completely and stepped back to let his poison do its trick, licking his wispy digits free of blood in delight he watched her thrive around in bed. Yelling in pain as blood seeped from the wounds he had created, saliva dripping from the side of her mouth as she struggled to swallow.

As she felt herself weakening all she could do was stare vacantly at this strange shadow, a shadow that was wearing a grin invisible to her. Her breathing didn't seem laboured, only her movements and ability to speak eligible words seemed to have disappeared. Tears and sweat ran down her face as the final blow of realization of her inevitable death swamped her every thought, there was no hope for fighting; she was never given that chance.

He was almost sad to see her stop moving, he was enjoying his nightly entertainment, but with his victim now paralyzed he could feed and stay satisfied until the clock strikes midnight again.


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