Just Thirst

I don’t usually play with my food, but I had to admit I was rather enjoying the look of terror on his face. Soon he would be begging for his life, but I would not spare it.

I had come to terms with my existence (I never call what I have a “life” any more). The bitterness. The loneliness. The insatiable thirst for blood. I learned to survive on the blood of animals. Livestock makes for easy meals and as long as I don’t kill them I can feed indefinitely. It had been decades since I had harmed a human. Until tonight.

I can smell people long before I’m close enough to see them. Sometimes I wander close to their houses just to take in the bouquet. The laborers are salty, the old are bitter, and the young are sweet. So I was shocked tonight when I saw the little girl playing in the barn — not just because a child that young shouldn’t be out so late. She smelled… ruined… defiled.

Even back when I fed on humans regularly, I never attacked one so young. Who could harm a child like this? She couldn’t be more than ten. And then I smelled him. His stink nearly made me retch. He entered the barn and from the way the little girl went silent I knew he was responsible. She stared at his feet when he reached down to run his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes when he pulled her into an embrace.

I could watch no more. I flew from the shadows and grabbed the reprobate by the throat. “Daddy!” the girl cried. In soothing tones I bade the child return to the house and go to sleep. She won’t remember me at all. I wish it were in my power to keep her from remembering her father as well.

“So,” I dug my fingers deep into his skin, “you abuse your own daughter?” I stopped his denial with an even tighter grip. He clutched at my hand trying to pry my fingers loose. His eyes bulged as he choked for air. I relaxed my grip to let him breathe just a little. He sought to claw at my face and I threw him to the ground. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” I whispered.

For two hours I thrashed him mightily, taking him just to the brink of death and making him linger there. Eventually, he confessed his sins easily and repeatedly. He begged forgiveness, as if that were mine to give. And, as I anticipated, he begged for his life. But there was no way I was going to allow the possibility that he would return to his abusive ways.

Finally, I tired of toying with him. I opened a vein in his wrist and took a small drink from the fountain it produced, but his blood was rancid. I ripped his throat open and left him twitching on the floor. Thirsty then and with that horrible taste in my mouth, I killed one of his cows and drank my fill. I’d have killed all his cattle, but that would have just harmed his family.

I left quickly and quietly. When his body and that of his cow were discovered the alarm would be raised. His neighbors would be looking for the creature that did the killing. It wouldn’t do for a stranger like me to be in the area. I knew they’d probably find a wolf or bear to blame for the carnage. And if not, well they all had a scary story to tell around the fire on cold nights. All of them except the little girl. She would never tell her story. But at least she had one less real monster in her life.

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