MicroHorror

Her first thought was, why the hell was it so bright in here? She groaned as she wedged her head under the pillow pulling it tight around her. It didn’t stop the nauseating headache from taking over. With the blackout blinds on her windows it’s never this bright. Her second thought was, why do I feel like I’m on fire? She looked under the covers at her skin. No, she wasn’t on fire but her skin burned. Felt like she’d been in the sun much too long with no sun block. She did not recall lying out in the sun lately. Which brought her to her third and most important thought: what the hell did I do last night? Like so many times, she drank until she blacked out. There’s no telling what she did this time. She sure hated the morning-afters. Not just because she physically felt the abuse she put upon herself but because of the stories she would hear. She should have learned by now but no. She just kept on. It’s a wonder she’s allowed in public anymore. It’s a wonder her husband allows her to leave the house without him. Jesus, I’ve got to stop abusing myself like this, she thought. She licked her lips. They felt chapped and she barely had enough saliva to wet them. She tasted metal. Metal? Am I bleeding? She licked her lips again and worked up enough saliva to allow it to linger on her tongue for a better taste. Yep, blood. Probably from my chapped, cracked lips.

Let’s see. She met her friends at the usual bar. They played pool, darts and did shots of tequila. Off each other’s bellies? Oh no, not tequila. She chastised herself. How did she let herself do that? She had been so good. She’d stayed away from it for a few months. Not since the last episode. It didn’t stop her from drinking but at least it kept her away from tequila.

She and her friends were pretty lit, she already in and out of the blackouts. She wondered where she went during the loss of consciousness. She wished she just went to sleep. No, couldn’t be that lucky. She had to misbehave. There was a man they hadn’t seen before and a limo. Yes, that’s it. They went with the man in the limo to another bar. Another bar but it wasn’t a normal bar. The name was cool–The Dungeon–and it didn’t open until two in the morning. They didn’t serve liquor. Then why the hell were they there? The strobing blue lights. The seductive music pumping through large speakers. Oh yeah, it was a vampire club. She and her friends laughed their asses off but thought it would be fun to go. Make fun of these idiots and their fake fangs and pale skin. Flashes of crazy orgy bloodsucking writhing black red pale bodies; laughter, no laughter; thoughts not fake. Can’t be. She brought her hand to her mouth and felt her larger and much, much sharper than before canines.

“Shit,” she said. She rolled over and shoved her husband’s shoulder.

“Hey,” she said. He didn’t move so she shook his shoulder again and again. The blankets fell away from his face and his open eyes stared at the ceiling.

She looked at him. He was a little blue.

“Mark?” She shook him again.

“Mark?”

“Oh, God.”

She wedged her head back under the pillow as tears flowed down her face. Guess I really won’t be drinking tequila anymore.