Author's note: Typically I don't start out a story with an Author's note, but, because this is unlike my other works, I thought it should come with a warning. This book is a HORROR story, in honor of the upcoming holiday: Halloween. If you do not appreciate gore, ghouls, or a high level of creepiness, please do not read on. This book was to "expand my writing genres" and is purely for fun. If you enjoy it, please note that little button on the left hand side of the screen or the "become a fan" icon on the right. Both are wonderful compliments I always appreciate. Anyways, happy reading and Happy Halloween!
The clock above the mantle ticks away the minutes, the seconds, before my reprieve. I watch it diligently, as if my life depends on it. Which, in a way, it does. Two minutes till mid-day, till freedom. I can hear the thump of my next victim walking down the side-walk. In two minutes, I'll be able to compel them to my doorstep. I shiver, a pleasurable sense that will be even more luxurious once I have a human body.
I can feel my old power, it throbs, just beyond my fingertips. It rains down, soaking the decrepit carpet, crawling towards me with such slowness that my chest aches. I groan as the first tendril makes contact. It snakes up and into me, a tingling pain that has been lost from me for a long time, too long.
It fills me and I can't help but smile. The pain is deeper now, like a knife being stabbed into me a hundred times over. My back stiffens, pops, as the bones become limber once again. My arms scream into their joints and I rejoice in the pain. When it is finished my body pulses, not just with the power, but with the need.
The human outside is closer now. I can feel its blood pumping as it makes its way past my home. I feel the vibrations as a heel strikes the cement. A woman, an easy prey. A grin slips across my features, pulling on my long dried lips. So long... I move towards the door, reveling in the feeling of my limbs obeying my command once more. My new-found power adds quickness to my step, something that will fade if I resist the call of the woman.
Outside, the sun is blinding. My eyes burn, threatening to distract me, but it isn't enough. The woman's blood thrums through my veins, pushing me along as if it is my own. She calls, not to me, but to another. It is enough to make me pause. Following behind her, so silently I missed it, is a child. A male. My teeth gnash in frustration. Which one, which one?
I know the rules of my imprisonment, I know that children should be protected, but the more I focus on it, the more I know of its presence, the more I hear it. Its heartbeat is faint and fluttering, weak. A sickly child. A burden on its parents. I can sense the woman's irritation as the child refuses her, refuses to obey. A nerve in my shoulder twitches, the one closest to the child. I slow my stride, slow my racing heartbeat. I walk towards the woman, keeping my eyes focused solely on her, even though everything else about me is zeroed in on the child.
I fall into step beside her, but she doesn't notice. Like me, she is entirely focused on the boy. "Ethan, don't dawdle," she scolds, her voice tight. I cock my head, trying to work my power into a transfer. It is harder than I remember, harder than the last time. Irritation builds inside me and I use it to push across the last few feet. Ah...I feel the woman's consciousness squirm under the pressure of my power. She stops walking and glances over her shoulder. She is now aware of me.