A Story by david jones

In a small town in Michigan lives a darkness like no other. Buried deep within the city lies a terrifying secret and an ancient evil, that when released, will bring about a battle like no other.


     The man was sitting on the bench in the middle of the park, looking up at the seemingly impenetrable darkness, spotting the small, round balls of gas that lie suspended in space. The man was wearing a red chambray shirt that was ripped at the edges, and blue jeans that were smeared with mud and dirt, the knees ripped out of them. He was a homeless man, having been homeless since he was a teenager; he had made the mistake of dropping out of high school, because at the time, he didn't think he needed school--but now, in the position he was in, he regretted that decision. The man had a scraggly beard that was matted with dirt, and thin, wire rim glasses he had scavenged from a trash barrel a while back; he had bad vision.
   The man had figured something bad was going to happen. The darkness had come to this town in Michigan several weeks ago, having not lifted except in the day time. But in the night, the darkness was impenetrable, and only on these rare occasions did one see the moon and stars suspended in the sky nowadays. He had several theories about the darkness, but he figured that everyone would think of him as the crazy old man. He slowly stood up from his perch upon the bench and walked over to the sidewalk, seeing the lights from buildings illuminating through the darkness, and seeing car headlights trying to penetrate the endless darkness. Even though the sky was littered with stars, the night was still the darkest it has ever been in the state. The man watched as people walked passed, giving him disgusted looks because he was homeless. Someone even spat on him. It was quite sad, really.
    He heard horns blaring and people shouting, sounds he had grown used to after his days and nights of sitting in the park, lonesome, by himself, nothing to do, no money, no food, not even people who would help him; nothing. He turned around and was about to sit down on the same bench he had sat down on most days, when he saw a sudden, dark image flitting across his vision. He looked up into the trees, trying to place what he had just seen, but nothing that was in the trees hinted at what flitted in front of his face. He sworn he had saw something. Something dark.
   Something evil.
   Something dropped from the trees. A grinning, pale figured. It elongated it's fangs, and the man knew what it was. A vampire. But those were only supposed to be myth. Right?
   The figure didn't talk. It just stood there as stiff as a tree and eyed the homeless man hungrily. The vampire slowly approached, hands balled into fists, fangs elongated, a look of blood and hunger in it's crimson red eyes that pierced the darkness. The man backed away, slowly. Any sudden move would cause the vampire to lunge, thought it was probably already thinking of his hot blood on it's lips anyway. He watched as the vampire continued eying him.
 And then the vampire did what the man had anticipated. It lunged. The man rolled to the right, or at least tried to, but was to late. The vampire knelt over the man, looking into his eyes deeply, before plunging it's fangs into his neck, causing blood to squirt from his throat like a ketchup packet being squeezed. The vampire licked up the blood. It used it's long, serrated finger nails and dug into the flesh of the man's chest, blood pouring to the ground. The vampire bit down into his arm and pulled off bits of worm like flesh. Hot blood stained the vampires mouth.
  The man was thrashing around on the ground in a seizure, foam coming up from his mouth like white, bubbling whipped cream that had been spit back up. Blood poured from two separate holes in his body. The vampire bit down and the man screamed.
  The vampire lifted it's head. Blood and gore stained it's mouth. The man had suddenly gone silent, the blood pumping from his body. The vampire then grabbed the man by the throat and dug deeper into his neck, digging through the flesh and blood, looking for the cardioid artery which was it's favorite part of the meal. It found the artery and bit now, a heavy amount of blood spraying the vampire in the back of the mouth. The vampire stood up.
This vampire didn't care about sucking the blood, though it did taste good.
All he really cared about was murdering and eating flesh. The vampire jumped back into the trees, leaving the ripped and torn and bloody body of the homeless man on the ground in the middle of the park for the rodents to eat.

 Thirty year old Thompson Baker stepped out of his 1995 Ford Mustang and walked toward the front door of his apartment. He was wearing a black T shirt and ripped and torn blue jeans. He produced a set of keys from within his deep pockets, stabbed the key into the lock, turned it to the right, hearing the click, and he opened the door. Thompson was a cop; he had served for years in The Grand Rapids Police department, but after five years he was demoted to this small, dusty town that was just outside of Grand Rapids Michigan. He lived alone in the apartment building, and he was always bored. He had just come back from the bar, where he had spent time drinking with his buddies, as well as playing game after game of pool. He was just a little bit drunk, but not enough to where he would have to stop driving because he was a tad under the influence.

He entered the room and threw his keys down on the couch, before plopping down and turning on the television. What he saw on the television made his heart skip a beat. Thompson was looking at a news story of how a homeless man had gotten torn into, a couple of ribs ripped out, and most of the blood gone. It had happened at the park where he lived by, so he decided not to rest; he needed to investigate this. He grabbed his keys, slipped his shoes on, pulled on his blue uniform shirt, pinned the badge to his chest, and was ready to go. He went to his car and entered it and turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot and was gone. A few minutes later he pulled into the parking lot of the park alongside a car with its lights flashing.
He stepped out of the car. "What have we here?" Thompson asked. A cop approached suddenly.

"You have to see this," said the cop. Thompson walked toward the body and what he saw sent his stomach plummeting. A body was lying there, torn into, dried blood like a halo on the top of his head, white and dirty entrails lying in the grass like dead snakes.

© 2012 david jones

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register


This is a very dark story you got here. The only bad thing I have to say about it was that it felt more like an excerpt from a novel than a short story. Besides that, good job.

Posted 7 Years Ago

david jones

7 Years Ago

I am not even done with the story. There is a few more characters to cover, and some more dark, hell.. read more

7 Years Ago

Ahh I see, good luck :)

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


1 Review
Added on December 24, 2012
Last Updated on December 24, 2012


david jones
david jones

Grand Rapids, MI

I like to read, write, play video games, chill with friends, listen to music etc. more..

Icebound Icebound

A Story by david jones