Following are two stories from my year of microfiction with similar themes. I’ve tweaked them both…
Thicker than water (redraft)
I had swum to the far side of the swimming hole when the storm broke and by the time I’d gathered my wet things I was alone. Warm drops fell from the darkening sky. Night came quickly. The forest closed in, dense and unyielding. Lightning silhouetted claw-like branches.
I saw her in a flash like a shadow. Nearby a branch fell with a clatter.
Lightning again and there she was. In front of me, beckoning me forward. As beautiful as the flower of the Bella Donna. I couldn’t run: her eyes held me. Her arms like ice wrapped around me. The body she pressed against me was as perfect and desirable as it was cold. She craned her head. I looked into her hungry mouth. Enough to break the spell. But too late. Her teeth pierced my neck. The warmth returned and with it the desire to feed her and feed with her. Again and again.
She spirited me away—took me under her wing. Our union consecrated next evening in the churchyard where she brought our prey. A pretty couple. A boy for her. For me a maiden—the first of many. The taste of immortality.
Cordelia’s MG was parked near the lake. Strange; with the sun about to set it wasn’t the place to be. The paths there were dangerous, the terrain unpredictable.
I called but there was no reply. Then I heard crackling undergrowth some distance away. I followed until brambles blocked my path. The last rays of sun streaked the tops of the overhanging trees yellow, amber, red, then faded through indigo. I found a gap and pushed through, thorns dragging at my skin. Framed by barbed and twisted stems I watched the moon rise on her. She had undressed. On her marble skin fresh cuts showed clearly. I heard panting, saw her twitch. Begin to alter.
Cordelia sniffed the air and turned. I glimpsed the face I knew for an instant—a look of pain and despair as she saw me in the moonlight. Then the change overtook her. It rippled through her and when she rose again she was the beast and I was helpless against her speed. Her power. The passion of her strike.
Now I go with her to the clearing when the moon is full. Never again shall we spend those nights apart.
One thought on “Two redrafted horror stories”
I love these, Richard