Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Surviving the day

Surviving the day
Dreading the night
Hiding my thoughts while time passes by
Fearing tomorrow
Hating the past
Disappointment again when the day dies
Wanting to change
Not finding how
Sorrow that clouds a sore heart
Making new plans
Watching them crumble
Despair that grows stronger blinding my eyes
Fighting myself
Losing the battle
Defeat that summons dark thoughts one more time
Running from pain
Getting caught up
Fear that weakens a wounded will
Feeling the breaking
Seeing a path
Week hope that falters on insomnia nights
Accepting I’m broken
Living with that
Doubt that infects a polluted will
Owning my burden
Learning to carry it
Picking the pieces that make who I am
Patching the pieces
Starting again
A spark of bravery igniting at last
Cleaning the mess
Finding a way
Relief that impulses me through one more day
Embracing the night
Finding its beauty
Courage that grows with each won fight
Accepting my flaws
Learning from them
Knowing the war can be won and conquered
Fighting a battle
Vanquishing my fears
Finally earning the peace I long needed

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Prey: Part Two

Read the first part here:


Part 2


I remained silent the whole time I spent in the tight trunk that stank of bleach. My hands were tied almost painfully with a rope behind my back, my bare feet were free. I heard the melody of one of Elvis's songs that I least liked, and Williams’ annoying voice singing along.

The car stopped, a white light blinded me for a moment.

“Get out slowly,” he ordered in a somber voice, I felt the cold metal against my neck.

I moved slowly out of the car, felt the damp, sticky earth under my toes, the sound of an owl in the distance, the unmistakable smell of the forest. He hung the flashlight on his shoulder.

“If you try to run, I'll slit your throat, you understand?”

I laughed, loud and strong without being able to avoid it, he looked at me confused. With a swift movement of my wrists, I broke the ropes as if they were made of paper. I could hardly bear to pretend that he had succeeded in knocking me out with his silly chloroform.

He was paralyzed for a moment and then he tried to stab me, I took the knife away with ridiculous ease. For my amusement I bent it in front of him with two fingers, he gasped.

“W-what the hell?” He stuttered. His eyes were no longer cold but panic-stricken. 

What an idiot. If he’d been a bit more observing he would have realized I had stood on broken glass and didn’t have a scratch. I let go completely of my human fa├žade and looked at him with a wicked smile, he shouted at the sight of my glowing, silver eyes and tripped with his own feet when he tried to flee. I moved faster than the human eye and grabbed him by the neck lifting him off the floor, he could well weigh 1 kilo, it was nothing for me.

“Tell me, what does it feel like to be the prey?” I smiled, showing him my big white fangs. He howled, I laughed.

I liked to see him suffer, he deserved it, what I would do to him was nothing compared to what he had done. It had actually taken me by surprise that he'd attacked me on the first night of my arrival. He'd taken a bit more time with the others, but then again maybe they hadn’t provoked him as I did.

He tried to kick me, I threw him with half my strength making him fly more than 20 feet; cries echoed on the forest as he fell on the ground. Before he could get up, I twisted both arms behind him, breaking several bones, he howled in pain. Hmm, maybe I should thank him for taking us to a lonely place.

“What a crybaby!” I laughed.

“Damn bitch!” he screamed.

I lifted him by the neck again, the flashlight on the floor pointed towards me, that was good I wanted him to see what was going to happen, he looked at me terrified. I could imagine how funny I would look in my blue bolero pajamas, disheveled and without hiding the monster that lived inside me and I fought to keep locked up most of the time. At that moment I wasn't even trying to restrain myself, the adrenaline in my veins made me euphoric and the hunger merciless.

“Please,” he pleaded.

“The most cowardly of your kind are always the most wicked,” I observed, the bastard was trembling like a leaf.

“Let me go,” he shouted and whimpered. 

I couldn't help laughing again. “I don’t think so.” 

“Please, I’m begging you.”

“How many of the girls you have tortured and killed said that?” I hissed angrily as I remembered how I had tied the loose ends that the police overlooked. More than twelve young women missing, all single, all with the same signs of cruelty. Anger raged through me as I remembered the horrible wounds on the bodies of the defenseless girls.

I lost control and bit him hard on the carotid, his shout was deafening. I drained him dry in less than two minutes. I regretted not having been able to restrain myself enough to make him suffer a little more, but hey, what the hell?


I rang the bell of the blue house with a smile, in my hands the clean glass plate. Having to throw away the pie was sinful, but my stomach could not tolerate most human foods. I'd tasted just a bit of the filling with the tip of my finger. I'd suffered many a stomach ache decades before as I experimented with what foods my stomach could tolerate.

Madeleine opened the door for me, her hands trembled. She had a thin coating of sweat on her forehead, though she was impeccably dressed.

“Do you feel fine?” I asked with all the innocence I could fake.

 “My ... My husband is gone,” she said in a choked voice. “He left me, said he would never come back,” she looked at the coffee table where the cruel note I hated to write was, but it had been necessary. I placed the dish in the nearest chair.

“I'm sorry,” I said, taking her hands.

“And now what will I do? The children, the house ... I can’t ... I can’t... I have no one...”

I caught her before she dropped to her knees, then took her to the spotless white couch and helped her to sit down. Damn bastard, he'd destroyed her self-esteem. It hadn't been enough to destroy all those poor defenseless women.

“You'll be fine,” I said, squeezing her thin shoulders carefully, she hiccuped.

“Look at me,” I ordered, he glazed and teary eyes pierced through me. “It will be all right.”

Her face went blank with the force of my hypnosis. 

“You will take care of your children, you do not need him, you never did,” I pushed. Her mind held no resistance.

“He was not worth it, you're a beautiful and capable woman,” I continued with more strength, she stopped hiccuping, I let her go.

“It will be all right,” I said, she was blinking in confusion.

“What will I do to get money?” she asked calmly, I offered her a handkerchief.

“Well, you make some incredible pies,” she looked at me in surprise. “Who doesn't love a good pie?” I asked with a grin, she corresponded with an authentic smile.

“Everybody loves pies,” she agreed in a strong voice.

Even vampires, I wanted to say.

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Wednesday, May 3, 2017

Prey: Part One


Part 1


I got out of the car with a big smile on my face. The bright yellow sunlight made everything sparkle: the windows, the roof and even the leaves of the trees of my beautiful new house. Several children were nearby, laughing happily, I smiled once more.

The men who carried all the boxes inside looked at me sideways, I sat on the lovely porch pretending not to notice the way their eyes were on me when they thought I didn’t notice, and that was despite the big hat that covered most of my face.

“She’s beautiful,” one murmured.

“And still unmarried, it seems rude,” his companion replied, giving me a rather audacious look.

I looked at myself surreptitiously, the light blue dress was slightly loose, my shoes were not high because I am 6-foot tall. I sighed, it wasn't the first time I had to deal with comments like those, and apparently, it would not be the last.

Once they left I changed my outfit to something more comfortable, an overall spotted with beige paint and low shoes. I had painted the house myself a couple of nights before; the solvent tang was still an assault to my senses. I organized almost the whole house by the end of the afternoon. It was a beautiful bungalow with a white fence, the American dream, well except for the husband that I would most likely never have and the children I could not birth.

After a long shower I put on a nice yellow dress with a bow on my back; my hair fell to my waist, tied in a fluttering ponytail. Deciding that staying indoors with such beautiful weather was sinful, I went to the porch and sat on the swing to enjoy the sunset and its rich colors and aromas.

After a few minutes a couple came up my way, I leaned my head to a side with a smile. The man in his forties with black hair and cold blue eyes looked at me too, his wife in her late thirties, blonde and beautiful stared at the house.

“Good evening,” said the man. “My name is William, this is my wife Madeleine, and you are?”

“Jane Glass,” I said.

“Welcome to the community,” he said, reaching for my hand.

I got up and took his hand suppressing a wince.

“Thank you,” I said.

Madeleine handed me a provocative blackberry pie, my mouth watered, I inhaled deeply.

“Oh, it smells delicious,” I complimented her. She smiled, it did not reach her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said in a shy voice.

“It tastes even better, my dear wife is an excellent cook,” he said, putting his arm around her thin shoulders on a possessive gesture, she shook a little.

The man looked at me from head to toe, made a half disapproving gesture to see my casual hairstyle, lack of makeup and comfortable shoes. I could tell he wasn't particularly happy to have to crane his neck to look at my eyes. 

“It's a big house for a single woman,” he said, his cold eyes scanning my face. Caveman, I almost said.

“I have many books,” I replied with a smile as cold as his expression. “You can borrow as many as you want,” I said to Madeleine. Her eyes widened with both fear and longing.

“I'm sure a beautiful woman like you will soon find a husband,” he said ignoring my offer to her. His pathetic flattering making me nauseated. 

Madeleine lowered her shoulders but remained silent. She seemed to have given up on arguing with him.

“I think I prefer a Golden Retriever,” I said with a snort. William’s expression changed for an instant, something dark and twisted in his eyes. Madeleine looked at me frightened, a warning in her expression. Quickly, he controlled himself again.

“Well, let's hope you fit in well in the neighborhood,” he said, retrieving his false smile. 

“Later,” I said, taking a step toward the door. “Thanks for the pie, Madeleine”.

“You are welcome,” she said in the same submissive voice.

Once they left, I entered my house. 1972 and there are still idiots who believe women are just cleaning machines and child breeders. I breathed deeply suffocating my anger.

I put on my pajamas and went to bed a few hours later, but could not fall asleep. I got up to get something to drink not bothering to turn on the lights. The humming of my new refrigerator welcomed me as I took a glass and filled it with almost freezing water. Leaning on the counter I drank big gulps, the thirst burning my empty stomach barely receded.

Someone grabbed my neck roughly and put a cloth over my face, the glass shattered on the floor near my feet. I felt the horrible smell that burned my nose, my stomach twisted. I half shouted and struggled without much strength, fading away in a matter of seconds.


Read Part 2 here:

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