Creature

The creature sat outside in the mist, not wanting to disturb Its prey.  It was such a pretty prey.  She was young, oh so young.  This night she was dressed in bright colors that hurt Its eyes.  But no matter.  Soon, it would all be red.

It crept up to her house, smelling something sweet that It wasn’t used to.  It sneezed once, twice, three times before It got used to it.  On the counter there were large bags with more of those bright colors.  It looked at the bag and tried to read what it said.  “Kit.... Kat?”  The words were strange coming out of Its mouth, as It wasn’t used to saying things anymore.  It knew that It had seen those words before, but where....?  It shook Its head, confused.  It would get a headache soon, at this rate.

Ignoring the bags where the sweet smell was coming from, It went up the stairs to where the smell of the pretty little girl was most concentrated.  It peeked in, not sure if she was there or not.  She was.  She was sleeping, snoring lightly.  It licked Its lips.  Its prey looked so peaceful and delicious, making It want to hunt her now.  But now wasn’t the time, It new that much.  She had to ripen, when her fear was at its height.  She wasn’t afraid just then.

So It waited.  It left her house, knowing where It could find her when the time was right.  It went back into the woods, where It had first woken from Its slumber.  The slumber must have been long, because It was sore when It first moved.  And It had been cold.  When It last remembered, which wasn’t much, it had been warm.  It wasn’t used to the cold, but somehow it felt nice.

It sat in the woods for one day and one night, until the light had just gone away, replaced by the sweet, soothing light of the moon.  Perfect for the hunt.  It got up from Its spot in the bushes and crept back to the house.  The sweet smell was even stronger, as the bags were open and little things were sitting in bowls on the counter.  It didn’t know how it knew that it was a bag, or that it was a bowl.  It just knew, like It knew the rules of the hunt.

There were more children in even brighter colors.  It watched from the shadows of the house while they went out.  It crept up to the room of the little girl, where it waited.  After a short while a woman came in.  It recognized her, but from where?  The woman was just as familiar to It as the little girl had been.  If only It could remember....

It had no time to think of such things.  It could only concentrate on the hunt.  When the moon was high in the sky, the little girl came back, smelling of the sweet stuff that It knew but couldn’t identify.  She was still wearing the bright colors, and she sat on her bed, completely unaware of the creature hiding from her closet.

The woman came in and said, “You’d better get to bed, Claire.  You have school tomorrow.”

The girl, Claire, made a face.  “Mom, I’m in first grade.  Stop treating me like a baby.”

The woman smiled, trying to hide her amusement from the response.  It couldn’t tell what had been funny.  The girl was able to take care of herself well enough, and she would learn as she went.  Wasn’t that good enough for the woman?  Apparently not.

“You just get to bed.  We don’t want you falling asleep during a reading lesson,” the woman said, turning the light out and closing the door.  The girl stayed still for only a few moments until she jumped off the bed and felt under her bed.  From the shadows she pulled a small case, which popped open.  She pulled out a small, silvery disk from it.... a DTD?  DBD?  No, that wasn’t it, It knew it.  DVD!  That was it!  How did It know this?  It decided to just watch the little girl.

The pressed something on a big metal box, making the screen turn on.  Pressing something else on another smaller box, she put the DVD in.  Closing it, she pressed another button and settled into a comfortable position on her bed, waiting for the movie to start.

It watched as it went to the Main Menu.  Gothika, It faintly remembered.  A ghost story.  Perfect for this evening.  Perfect to raise the fears of the little girl until she was perfectly ripe.  It watched and waited as she first sat there, bored, and then tense with panic for the people in the pictures on the metal box.  When her eyes were wide and she was clutching the little teddy bear, she jumped off the bed and stopped the movie.

It smiled, smelling the air.  The wait was now over.  Now It could feast.

It waited a few more moments until the little girl was under her covers.  It could sneak up on her easier then.  When she had been sitting still, still afraid, for a few minutes, It silently pushed open the closet door and crept over to her bed.

It lifted a claw, putting it on her head, smoothing her hair.  It sent fearful shivers down her spine.  It breathed in deep, smelling the air again.  Even more ripe.  If It didn’t feast soon, she would be too ripe, and then the hunt would have been for nothing.

It didn’t even let her scream, as much fun as it would have been.  However, It didn’t want the mother to hear It, as he would have had to eat her as well.  It wouldn’t have liked the bitter, protective taste she would have had.  So he killed the girl quickly, but not painlessly, ripping out just her wind pipe so she couldn’t scream and watching her bleed, taking away those bright colors and replacing them with something more delicious.

She didn’t take very long to die.  Something so small didn’t have a lot of blood, so it lapped up the last of it before feasting on her flesh.  It was so absorbed in the taste of it that It didn’t even notice the door open.

“Oh my god,” the woman breathed.

It looked up, growling.  Why had It been so careless?  It hadn’t even noticed her coming.  Now he would have to eat her as well, blast it all.

She looked at him in horror.  “John, is that really you?”

John?  Who was this John that she spoke of.  It couldn’t be It... could it?  That’s when it all came back.  Himself, smiling at his new bride just eight years ago, welcoming their baby into the world just one short year after that.  Himself, dying in the forest one warm spring day and then... what?  He couldn’t remember after that.  He looked down at himself, at his claws and his cold skin.  Zombie?  Is that what he would be called now?

Then he looked at the body on the pink bed, the body of his little girl, his daughter... and all awareness that he had had as a man was gone in the agony of what he had done, taking away the precious life that he had helped create.

The last thing he knew as a man was his wife screaming.  And he had caused it.

Reviews

[halflives]

That was, well, woah. I'm amazed. I love the way that you turned it around on all of us like that. The fact that he was the old husband. But how can the girl be too ripe? Excellent and almost perfect. Few grammar mistakes. Anyway, excellent. It would make an awesome horror flick. You should propose this to Rob Zombie or something. ;)

[JulieNorell]

Wow! Thats very interesting... I loved it! But, and this may just be me being slow, how did he make his wife scream? Why was she screaming?