an evening feast
is there room for one more?
This flash fiction was written in response to this photo prompt from Sam’s Spaghetti.
Enjoy…
The road should not have been there.
Liv could have sworn only dark, dense forests dominated this land. But she still followed it as if it had been waiting for her, a dark ribbon cutting through the trees, shadows swirling like fog, rising toward a swollen sky that promised thunder.
She ran a hand through her ebony hair and inhaled deeply. She loved the smell of pre-rain air. It promised whispers… and things that did not play so nicely.
The mansion emerged, twin towers between the trees, stone and secrets, a corpse of a house that perhaps wasn’t yet dead.
Time to explore…
She passed through the open gate, rusted iron curling inward like fingers, beckoning her, so tempting. I’ll play.
The gravel beneath her combat boots made no sound as she walked.
The door swung open easily with the gentlest push, and darkness rushed out to greet her. Or she flew in to meet it. It was hard to tell.
The aroma of dust and something much richer wrapped invisible hands around her throat. Good. She liked that.
She moved deeper, eyeing the twisting staircase, and noticed a dark stain glistening, adorning the carpet. It seemed too fresh for a place that had been so forgotten, so unloved.
She crouched and pressed her manicured fingers into it, feeling the tackiness cling, then lifted it to her lips.
Blood spilled like wine on her tongue, alive in a way nothing else had ever been. A door inside her unlatched.
The door behind her closed.
Silence preceded the figure appearing at the top of the stairs, tall and wrong, too still. Its entire presence pressed into her senses. Oh, how the anticipation filled her.
As it descended, the scent deepened. She leaned toward the lure of the pulse of blood, weaving and coursing through a living creature.
When it reached the bottom, close enough to see the pallor of its skin, the evil distortion of its mouth, something almost human stretched too far, she felt the final piece click into place.
The creature lunged, but she was faster, her hands closing around its throat as she drove it back with a force that shattered the wall and mirror behind it, holding it there as it struggled, its scent overwhelming now. It was wrong. It was intoxicating. It was dripping its way through her mind.
It was clear now who was predator and who was prey.
Her teeth sank into its neck, the blood watery and weird, spoiled yet still enough, still better than nothing. She drank with an unbreakable focus, the excess leaking out of her mouth and dripping to the floor.
Drip… drip… drip.
When the twisted one finally stilled, she let it fall to the floor with a thump.
Liv straightened, wiping her mouth, and caught her pale reflection in the shattered mirror. She had always been “too pale,” according to the preferences of others, making her too dark eyes even more ominous.
Outside, the thunder finally arrived, rain lashing the windows. She knew the main road would flood within an hour.
I guess I’ll have to stay the night, she mused, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, not entirely displeased as the shadow on the second floor twitched.
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Loved this ❤
this pulled me in instantly. “a corpse of a house that perhaps wasn’t yet dead” such a striking image 🖤