Too Quiet
1148 Words
It was a rainy night.
Rain fell in thin, tapping softly against my umbrella and soaking the long stone path that led to my family’s mansion.
Normally, the walk home felt peaceful.
But tonight, something was different.
The air carried a strange stench, something thick, metallic, and rotten.
A cold sensation ran down my spine, and my fingers instinctively tightened around the strap of my backpack.
The front door stood slightly opened.
We never left it open. Ever.
I stepped closer, my shoes crunching faintly against wet gravel. My hand hovered near the doorknob and that’s when I saw them.
Dark and smeared fingerprints. They looked almost… sticky.
My throat went dry. I pushed the door open.
The hinges creaked, the sound piercing the suffocating silence inside.
“…Mom?” I called slowly
Each step forward felt heavier than the last. My stomach twisted violently, dread pooling deep inside me. I turned the corner toward the living room
A man. His back turned against me, hovering above people.
My eyes quickly spotted the tattoo on his lower back, almost like a mark….
I tried to speak but my throat couldn’t produce more than a sound.
The man turned.
His eyes bloodshot, as if he had zoned out.
My head starts to register that the corpses on the floor belonged to my parents.
Blood surrounded them like a dark
mirror. Their faces and bodies torned.
I fell to my knees, shaking uncontrollably. Tears streamed mercilessly down my face, blurring my vision. My chest heaved, each breath sharp and ragged, as if my lungs were trying to escape my body.
He moved closer. Fast, precise, yet somehow every movement seemed stretched in slow motion. I looked up at him, frantically trying to scoot backward, but my legs had already betrayed me, refusing to support even the tiniest step.
Finally, he reached me. Dropping to his knees, he stared at me, his breathing sharp and wild, like some predator savoring its prey. Every exhale carried the metallic tang of blood, and the air around him felt charged, heavy, suffocating.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling, as fear coursed through every nerve.
“You…” the human-creature whispered. Blood-soaked hands ran through my hair, almost tenderly, as if memorizing my face for another day. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes.
He was beautiful. Too beautiful. And that made me even angrier and more terrified. How could a being like this commit such chaos? How many had he charmed before striking, leaving destruction in his wake?
His hands slid down to my collarbone, tracing my neck with deliberate care. He bit his lips, watching me with eyes that were dark, hungry, and strangely alive. Suddenly, his hand struck fast, wrapping around my throat. A loud, strangled gasp escaped my lungs as I tried desperately to push him away, to claw at him, but my strength faltered.
Before I could react further, he removed my hands, his movements fluid and unnerving. He smiled fangs glinting sharply through my foggy vision.
My body went limp, surrendering instinctively, when I felt it: a pair of fangs sinking into me, burning, piercing, claiming me in an instant.
chat ver 570
It was a rainy night.
Rain fell in thin threads, tapping softly against my umbrella and soaking the long stone path that led to my family’s mansion.
Each droplet left a cold kiss on my face, seeping through the thin fabric of my jacket, chilling me to the bone.
Normally, the walk home felt peaceful, the rhythmic crunch of my shoes against the gravel almost meditative. But tonight… tonight something felt wrong.
The air carried a strange stench, thick and metallic, with a hint of rot that made my stomach twist violently.
My fingers instinctively tightened around the strap of my backpack.
The front door stood slightly ajar.
We never left it open. Ever.
My heart began to hammer against my ribcage as I stepped closer, the wet gravel crunching softly beneath my shoes.
My hand hovered over the doorknob, hesitant, every instinct screaming at me to turn back. That’s when I saw them.
Dark, smeared fingerprints streaked across the wood, glistening like wet ink. They looked… sticky. Wrong. Alien.
My throat went dry. I pushed the door open, and the hinges creaked loudly, the sound slicing through the suffocating silence inside.
“…Mom?” I called, my voice trembling and thin.
Each step forward felt heavier than the last. My stomach churned, dread pooling deep inside me like a dark, cold liquid. I turned the corner toward the living room.
A man. His back turned against me, looming over the bodies.
My eyes darted to the tattoo on his lower back, almost like a mark… familiar, yet terrifying.
I tried to speak, but my throat refused to produce more than a choked, broken sound.
The man turned.
His eyes were bloodshot, glazed over, as if he had completely zoned out.
It took a few agonizing seconds for my mind to register what I was seeing: the corpses on the floor belonged to my parents.
Blood pooled around them like a dark, warped mirror, reflecting the twisted horror of their torn faces and bodies.
I fell to my knees, shaking uncontrollably, chest heaving. Tears streamed freely, blurring the scene before me. My legs had given out, my body trembling as if it were trying to escape itself.
He moved closer. Fast, precise, yet somehow every movement seemed stretched in slow motion.
I looked up at him, frantically trying to scoot backward, but my legs refused to obey.
Finally, he reached me. Dropping to his knees, he stared at me, his breathing sharp and wild, like some predator savoring its prey.
Every exhale carried the metallic tang of blood, and the air around him felt charged, heavy, suffocating.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trembling, as fear coursed through every nerve.
“You…” the human-creature whispered. Blood-soaked hands ran through my hair, almost tenderly, as if memorizing my face for another day. Hesitantly, I opened my eyes.
He was beautiful. Too beautiful. And that made me even angrier and more terrified.
How could a being like this commit such chaos?
How many had he charmed before striking, leaving destruction in his wake?
His hands slid down to my collarbone, tracing my neck with deliberate care.
He bit his lips, watching me with eyes that were dark, hungry, and strangely alive.
Suddenly, his hand struck fast, wrapping around my throat.
A loud, strangled gasp escaped my lungs as I tried desperately to push him away, to claw at him, but my strength faltered.
Before I could react further, he removed my hands, his movements fluid and unnerving. He smiled fangs glinting sharply through my foggy vision.
My body went limp, surrendering instinctively, when I felt it: a pair of fangs sinking into me, burning, piercing, claiming me in an instant.
- Writer
