MicroHorror

It happened by accident.

It was early evening. The streetlamps cast circles of pale light at regular intervals along the street. Trent opened his front door and stepped onto the veranda with a large plastic bag of rubbish in his hand. As he walked towards the steps that lead down to his front garden he noticed one of his neighbors strolling along the footpath.

“Hello,” he called out.

Mr. Walker smiled and waved back.

Then without warning a large, dark figure flew out of the shadows and fell upon the unsuspecting man. Trent opened his mouth to shout a warning but it was too late. Mr. Walker lashed out, punching blindly at his attacker though his efforts were of little use. In the blink of an eye the creature had overpowered him and bitten down hard into the man’s neck. A spray of blood shot into the night air as the wounded man continued to struggle, but as more and more blood drained from the gaping wound in his neck his body became weaker. Within the minute, his arms were hanging limply by his side as the creature savaged his neck, tearing off chunks of flesh and spitting them aside so that it could drink the warm crimson liquid that sprayed from the torn veins and arteries.

Trent stood aghast. The plastic bag of rubbish slipped from his hand to the wooden floor of the veranda. Suddenly he had been transported to another place. This was not where he lived. Surely.

When the creature had finished it let the body drop to the ground, stood upright and licked its lips. Only then did Trent realize the danger he himself was in. Only then did the creature notice him. Their eyes met and Trent felt his blood chill. He turned and fled into the house, just managing to shut the door before the creature was at it, attacking it with talon-like fingernails and growling like an animal.

Trent ran into the kitchen to get a knife, but as he hurried towards the drawer where the knives were kept he noticed a dark blur pass by the kitchen window.

The back door!

Was it locked? A surge of adrenalin. He ran into the laundry and turned the key in the lock. Had he made it in time? He peered through the glass panel that ran the length of the wooden door, his breath fogging the glass. He couldn’t see it anywhere.

He snuck back into the kitchen and opened the utensil drawer, his hand soon finding a large carving knife. The large weapon only made him feel moderately safer. It didn’t seem adequate against the might of such a voracious killer.

He listened for any sound which might give the creature’s presence away, but there was only silence. He moved carefully across the kitchen linoleum and into the shadowy lounge room, lit only by a small table lamp.

“Looking for something?”

The voice was cold.

Trent peered into the corner.

The creature that stepped from the shadows was dressed entirely in black. Black trousers, black shirt, black gentleman’s jacket and black shoes. Its stark white face was smeared with blood, accentuating the redness of its full lips; its eyes were completely black. The space where its nose should have been was just a mass of wrinkled flesh surrounding two small holes. Bat-like. Ugly.

Before he knew it the creature was behind him, its foul breath on the back of his neck. But he was faster. Gripping the blade he spun around and dragged the blade through the creature’s neck.

As the dying creature fell to the carpeted floor Trent smiled to himself and walked over to the light switch. He flicked it on and looked at the collection of vampire heads he’d already had mounted and hung on his lounge room wall.

“Now where am I going to put you?” he thought to himself as he rested a finger on his lip.