Stealing Diamonds From Eyes
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She was the only one left.
The last of the humans.
They had been turned. To what, no one knew; they were long gone and too mangled to care. She knew because it was too quiet outside, and the TV had turned to a monotonous crackle as the communication systems had been cut. She had turned off all the power in the house, wanting to stay as safe as possible. She had lit candles, and the soft glow did not sooth her beating heart as a figure approached her in the semi-darkness.
The creature was human in appearance, the body standing at just over six feet. The only thing that deemed it different was its face, and the wavering blackness that shrouded its lean figure. It had no eyes, and it was like wax, the skin smooth, and deathly pale. It wore a black suit, the shoes silent against the tiles. She knew who this was. It was her husband. He had just returned home from work.
She reached into the cutlery drawer, pulling out two knives. She gripped them tightly, staring into where the creature's eyes should be. It hesitated in its advance, cocking its head, as though to say, you silly human.
Her mouth was dry, and she swallowed, her tongue feeling like sandpaper. Her back hit the wall as the creature advanced.
She had two options.
Run.
Or fight.
She weighed up the pros and cons, the knives feeling heavy in her grip. She threw one with all her might, the blade tumbling over handle, with barely any curve to the flight. It was headed for the creature's chest, right where it's heart should be. It didn't pause in its movements, only continued to walk steadily forward as the blade pierced its body. The creature didn't stumble, or appear to be hindered in any way.
The knife came flying out the other side, the shadows enveloping the figure clinging to it for a few seconds, following its trajectory, before it was released, thudding deep into the table.
She was too scared to scream.
One option left.
She looked down at the blade.
Or the unthinkable third.
One last glance up at the creature settled her mind.
The metal bit her flesh as she plunged it towards her heart. She gasped, feeling the warm blood spill down her fingers. The creature came forward and caught her, laying her on the floor as her life poured out of her, pulsing red and thick. Her breathing became laboured, as the oxygen flowed through her lungs and to her bloodstream, only to be lost in a matter of seconds. It leaned to her ear, whispering,
'Fear me, dear, for I am death.'
The last of the humans.
They had been turned. To what, no one knew; they were long gone and too mangled to care. She knew because it was too quiet outside, and the TV had turned to a monotonous crackle as the communication systems had been cut. She had turned off all the power in the house, wanting to stay as safe as possible. She had lit candles, and the soft glow did not sooth her beating heart as a figure approached her in the semi-darkness.
The creature was human in appearance, the body standing at just over six feet. The only thing that deemed it different was its face, and the wavering blackness that shrouded its lean figure. It had no eyes, and it was like wax, the skin smooth, and deathly pale. It wore a black suit, the shoes silent against the tiles. She knew who this was. It was her husband. He had just returned home from work.
She reached into the cutlery drawer, pulling out two knives. She gripped them tightly, staring into where the creature's eyes should be. It hesitated in its advance, cocking its head, as though to say, you silly human.
Her mouth was dry, and she swallowed, her tongue feeling like sandpaper. Her back hit the wall as the creature advanced.
She had two options.
Run.
Or fight.
She weighed up the pros and cons, the knives feeling heavy in her grip. She threw one with all her might, the blade tumbling over handle, with barely any curve to the flight. It was headed for the creature's chest, right where it's heart should be. It didn't pause in its movements, only continued to walk steadily forward as the blade pierced its body. The creature didn't stumble, or appear to be hindered in any way.
The knife came flying out the other side, the shadows enveloping the figure clinging to it for a few seconds, following its trajectory, before it was released, thudding deep into the table.
She was too scared to scream.
One option left.
She looked down at the blade.
Or the unthinkable third.
One last glance up at the creature settled her mind.
The metal bit her flesh as she plunged it towards her heart. She gasped, feeling the warm blood spill down her fingers. The creature came forward and caught her, laying her on the floor as her life poured out of her, pulsing red and thick. Her breathing became laboured, as the oxygen flowed through her lungs and to her bloodstream, only to be lost in a matter of seconds. It leaned to her ear, whispering,
'Fear me, dear, for I am death.'