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The Visitor In The Night

Short story By: Tatia Shurgaia

A visit from someone or something in the middle of the night with a strange surprise.

Submitted:Feb 4, 2013    Reads: 160    Comments: 7    Likes: 3   

The first time I met her was sometime during a cold winter night. I didn't know who she was or why she was in my home. I didn't know what she had done to me to make me feel like I was drugged or how she got in either. By the time the steam came out of the teapot, I was already headed closer to the floor. I woke up on the couch where my head pounded and I couldn't move. Everything came back slowly, but everything felt like it was going to fade. She was sitting on the arm chair across from me with her long shiny brunette hair, sharp white teeth, long legs crossed and sipping on some red wine from a crystal glass cup. Although that's what I assumed it was at that time. She seemed patient. Almost like she had all the time in the world. Did she? She did. I found that out a little later after she took a bite from my veins. Her white teeth sinking into my wrist like a delicious meal and allowing the blood to flow through her mouth. Taking in all the blood she could handle like a person who has never tasted water before. Giving her a sensation that accelerated through her body and up close, I could see her eyes dilate from the pleasure. The pain in my wrist throbbed until I could no longer even feel it. She picked up her satisfied head, revealing her chocolate brown eyes that pierced through me. She stroked my hair and gently touched my face as she placed my limp wrist on my stomach. Somehow everything seemed to be happening so slowly, and calmly. It almost felt like a dream, but it had a touch of reality. As she slipped away from me, my eyes could no longer restrain from shutting and I had soon lost sight of her. I couldn't tell if I really was dreaming or not. I woke up to the smell of wood burning to ashes and the fire illuminating the dark room. I motioned my almost lifeless body to the fireplace and placed my hands out for warmth. Two small red holes in my wrist had caught my attention. I wasn't dreaming, and my gut was telling me she would return again one day. I wanted her to visit me. I wanted to know what she was and who she was, but most of all, I wanted to know why she looked just like me.


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