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This week will feature a word prompt. Please read below for guidelines and how to submit your prompt!
WORD PROMPT:
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(Word prompt reads: As you walk down the street you hear a man's voice say, "You'd look better if you smiled." So you turn around and give him your widest grin, revealing bloodstained fangs.)
WINNERS:
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But now laid a dead body in an alley couple of blocks behind me. She was right. If I can't learn to control my thirst, I'm burdened to live with this guilt.
Walking down the street, it was then I heard him. A shadow catching up.
The voice caught me off guard. "You'd look better if you smiled." A tinge of mockery.
I've learned what to do in such situations. I slowly turned around. Shoulders hunched. My face tilted to shade my emotionless eyes. I widened out my grin towards the man, revealing bloodstained fangs.
He stood motionless for a moment before stepping up. "Now where do you think you're going after causing that back there." It was then I noticed the stake, as thick as my arm, as red as stained blood.
I tried to get lost in the shadows, but I underestimated him. Knives pierced my legs immobilising them.
"I didn't mean to!" I tried to explain. "The kid saw me. I didn't mean to hurt him. He saw me with the dog and.. The thirst was too much. I didn't mean to hur-" I stopped abruptly as a boot dug into my gut, hard.
"Tsk-tsk. Sad about the kid. If only I made it in time." He spat on my lying, shaking body. "No matter. I'll make short work of you, unlike your mommy and daddy."
My eyes shot upwards in disbelief.
He must be lying.
He has to be!
"Oh, little naive monster doesn't know the truth now, does he?" He imitates a disgusting tone as he slowly raises the stake.
"Pity you left kid, she expected more. Although, Agatha was getting tired of you." He grinned. "Why else would she call me back?"
A little more than a hundred years ago, I was a highly respected countess. But nowadays it seems I do not strike the same amount of veneration I once had which, frankly, is a shame.
I've only been awake for a little under a month, but I think I've adjusted well, considering I had risen from my crypt with not a clue of what the world was now like. Fortunately, I am very clever. Before my slumber, I left behind a servant of unwavering loyalty-- one that would come to my summons no matter where or when I called. They came to me, looking just as young and beautiful as I'd left them, and helped me grow accustomed to this new, disrespectful world. They made my transition simpler, is what I'm saying.
Nonetheless, adjusting was hard. What was especially difficult was getting off my high horse when I realized no one cared for who I was any more. Walking on the street was no longer a means to display my pride, but rather an attack on my dignity. People would no longer perceive my visage with eyes widened in awe, but instead with looks of indifference or perversion. I stalk the sidewalk with a scowl on my face regularly now.
Note my surprise and utter offence when I am interrupted one evening by a man calling, "Love, you'd look better if you smiled!"
Drunken laughter escapes him in flurries as I slowly turn to face him, eyes narrowed. The street is empty, the man is alone, and he is clearly inebriated. My scowl slowly lifts and morphs into one of sick satisfaction. The man seems pleased until my lips pull back to reveal large, twisted fangs.
