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The Night Creatures

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Allison’s tears barely have time to fall, before the frigid wind whips them from her face. Twisted branches claw at her jacket and hair. The trees are on its side, their roots kicking out at her feet,

Horror / Thriller
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Her breath is ragged, and her legs burn as she lifts one after the other. Her body cries out to crumble into the ground, and become one with the soft snow. She pushes onward solely with willpower. It’s getting closer, she can feel its ominous presence on her back, dark and heavy. Any minute now it will yank her off the path.

Allison’s tears barely have time to fall, before the frigid wind whips them from her face. Twisted branches claw at her jacket and hair. The trees are on its side, their roots kicking out at her feet, causing her to stumble. Allison swallows a sob, her heart slamming against her chest. Death is close, it whistles to her through the trees, the notes of a sad song.

House lights can be seen in the distance and she hears the impatient honking of a car. The deep snow pulls her down with every step she takes. Allison’s foot yanks clear of one of her boots. The sudden shock of her barefoot against the wet snow, startles her into a strangled scream. There is no time to try and retrieve the boot, it was closer now. Goosebumps cover her skin, as its warm breath surrounds her. It’s sickeningly sweet, almost like cough syrup. Swinging around she lashes out at nothing but cold air.She can’t see it, but it’s near. It enjoys the hunt, it could have killed her even before she started running. Allison staggers to the nearest tree, the rough bark scraping the palms of her hands. Puffs of air swirl from her mouth, as she fights to catch her breath.

A soft chuckle dances through the trees, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly where it comes from. Dropping to her knees exhausted, she’s ready to face her fate. She wonders if anyone would even find her body. Would it bury her to hide its existence?

It glides out of the shadows, a ravenous smile painted on its pale face. She could see the veins behind its paper-thin skin, at a quick glance it could pass for an old man.

“Ahh dear, I wish you hadn’t have ran.” It made a clucking sound as it’s bony hands cupped her face.

It snarls, revealing brilliantly white needle like fangs, as it yanks her thin body closer. Allison chokes on the sweetness of its breath, feeling her head get too heavy for her neck. A siren like wail escapes her mouth, the scream rages from deep within shaking her entire body.

“No one can hear you dear.” It looks at her with feigned pity, mistaking her scream for one of help, instead of sheer terror.

Hot blood splashes into her face and hair, stinging her eyes. She spits a bitter rotten taste from her mouth, dry heaving as her insides tighten and recoil. Stunned and confused, Allison stares down at the headless body in front of her. Its corpse already gathering fresh snow. A splattered pattern of black blood shows the direction the head travelled in.

A tall black man stands a few feet from her, his hands covered in blood. Allison scrambles away, throwing her hands across her face, cowering. She knows it will do her no good, this man had just ripped the thing’s head off with nothing but his hands.

“It’s ok, I’m not here to hurt you,” his voice was a deep velvet.

He steps forward and Allison cringes away with a pathetic whimper, her eyes fixate on his sharp curved claw like nails.

“Oh sorry,” he retracts his nails and lifts her gently from the ground before she could make another peep.

“I won’t say anything, please don’t hurt me.” Allison stammers out weakly.

“No one would believe you anyway,” he said in a matter of fact tone.

“I just wanna go home.” She tries again, grasping at a tiny sliver of hope.

“Yes of course,” he nods in agreement.

As if against her will, she slowly looks up at him. His tar black eyes focusing on her with intensity. They didn’t match his unlined face, his eyes carried stories of old. He takes a deep savouring breath, and tenses his grip on her wrist. He blinks a few times, and shakes his head, as if trying to clear it. A mask of painful remorse languidly covers his face.

She sees when the wheels of thought finally stop spinning, and he makes his decision.

He moves her sweat dampened hair from her neck with ice cold fingers.

“Please, no,” Allison pleads.

“I’m sorry, but I’m hungry.” He opens his mouth revealing pointed fangs much like the creature lying dead in the snow.

She’s in agony, as his knife sharp fangs sink deep into her neck. The pain radiates throughout her thin body and she welcomes death. Soon there would be no more pain, no more bitter cold of the winter storm. The silvery moon spins out of control and the dark storm clouds spin with it. She could hear her heart pounding, and it’s the last thing she hears, as her would be hero strokes her hair.

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