Death of a Nightingale

CHAPTER 41: STILL HERE

Luke rushes down the stairs, his steps heavy with the loss. Without looking anywhere but his feet, he bursts through the front door and lets it fall into the heavy lock.

BAM.

From the kitchen, Beth turns for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping her as she cleans a coffee cup over the sink.

Another few steps click behind her into the kitchen.

"Didn't I just hear you leaving?" She says without turning around.

A voice old and unfamiliar answers her, freezing her thoughts in their tracks.

"That wasn't me." The ancient monster croons and approaches a bit closer, invading her space with a threatening sense of curiosity.

"I've actually been here for quite a while now. Watching and listening." Beth turns to look at the owner of this unpleasant accent and stares into a pair of strange, silver eyes.

"You were on the roof." She says matter-of-factly and he smiles at her, letting his long nails scratch slowly across the kitchen table, leaving an easy indentation. Pure strength in small movements.

"Beautiful home. Very inviting indeed." He continues on and Beth can't stand the sound and presence of him.

She scans the kitchen as subtly as she can. Her gun is on the other side, behind the dark creature. He leans against the fridge and sniffs the air.

"So many different scents in here." He hums in pleasure, enjoying every 's' with all the sensual sweetness of brackish swamp water.

Beth's heart races. She's trying not to glimpse at the gun, for fear of giving away her plan.

"What do you want?" Her voice holds steady.

The monster smiles. Easy and a little too casual.

"I want to mark my territory."

He pounces. Wicked and quick. One jump and Beth hits the ground hard. Her head slams against the table leg and she flails her arms in an attempt to cover herself. She yelps as a sharp knife slices her arm, shooting searing pain through her body. She dares a look and blood sprouts from the bend of her elbow all the way to the wrist. As a doctor, she knows what this means and how much time she has left before bleeding out.

Beth spits in the creature's face and punches him in the jaw with the other hand as hard as she can.

The dark figure rises, inhaling sharply. Enjoying this. Beth scoots backward, cradling her arm, looking for anything to help defend herself.

The dark figure smirks. He steps back a few feet and her eyes follow him as he picks up the pistol, her way out, and hands it butt-first to her. She blinks in disbelief.

"Would this make you feel safer?" He croons and his eyes glow in their unnatural silver might. Beth understands. She levels the gun at him anyway. The bastard even has the arrogance to spread his arms wide, giving her perfect aim. She pulls the trigger down, but the weapon only clicks. Empty magazine.

The monster chuckles.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it wouldn't have done the trick anyway." He educates her like a child, watching every move, playing with her like a cat would with a mouse.

Beth tosses the gun at him and gets to her feet. Blood dripping heavily from her arm, but she continues staring the creature down in an act of final defiance.

"No screams? No begging?" He asks, cocking his head with interest that could almost resemble respect.

"Is that what gets you off?" She shoots back, trying to rattle his cage.

Beth twists sideways, jumps toward the window, and rips the curtains open. Rain and gloomy daylight greet her. But it affects the monster nonetheless.

A HISS erupts from him as he steps back. Eyes shining.

A barrier of light between them. The understanding of just what he is fully settles within Beth as her mind works through possible solutions. She can kill it, or at least slow it down with sunlight. If she can get the monster to the door, then she just might have a chance.

The dark figure smirks at her as if reading her mind. Then he slowly takes a step. Steam and pain ripple off of him but he clenches his jaw, working his way through the detrimental daylight. Another step. Parts of him ripple. Beth can only watch as he passes through to the other side and heals immediately.

"You're clever, but a little ray of light won't kill someone of my strength either."

Beth retreats another step. Blood covers the floor. She scrambles behind her, throwing anything she can at the dark figure. The hot tea kettle, plates, cutlery, the phone, and an unfortunate basil plant. But the few hits she manages to get in don't affect the ancient creature. He lets her attack subside and then pounces, inflicting another vicious slice, this time to Beth's neck.

He jumps to the other corner of the kitchen to watch her struggle and fight off her impending doom.

Beth gulps. A large, vertical wound on her neck, neatly bisecting her carotid artery, causes blood to stream freely and rapidly. Her eyes widen as if she'd like to say something, but her injury prevents her from doing so.

She tries to staunch the blood from flowing, but now both arms are sliced. He's bleeding her out bit by bit. She takes a step towards the figure and slips in her own blood. She falls and crashes, trying desperately to breathe before her injuries drown her in her own blood. Her hands fruitlessly search for something, anything, to hold onto, but all she can feel is her warm, wet blood smeared all across the kitchen floor. She stares up at the dark figure who bends down to caress her hair with a strange tenderness.

"Would you like me to end it for you?" He asks, sounding almost empathetic.

She chokes on her own blood again. Another jolt rattles through her broken body and her eyes glaze over. Her body eases into the all-encompassing oblivion of death. The monster continues to stroke Beth's hair and even wipes a few strands off of her cheek.

"I guess I won't have to." He says to the corpse and rises in one fluid motion, ready to continue his hunt. His nostrils flare just slightly and his eyes dart to the staircase leading to Ness' room. He hums to himself, savoring each second in sweet anticipation.

He saunters upwards, taking in every family picture on the wall, smiling at the happy humans. He daintily avoids the small rays of light through the curtains with loathsome distaste. He halts in front of Ness' door, letting every detail become a part of his Michelin Star dining experience. His fingertips delicately glide along the outside, tracing the adornments in the wood.

Then the monster kicks the door in without any trouble. One smooth movement. But instead of a playful, cruel hunt, an open window greets him and daylight floods the room. A loud shriek escapes the creature and he jumps to cower into the nearest, darkest corner to hide in the shadows. The dust settles. No Ness anywhere. Only the abominable, open window with flowing curtains letting in gloomy daylight.

Another scream erupts from the monster. Pain and hatred combined in one wretched sound of frustration.