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 façade 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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Witch Awakening by Kira Morris
