Vicious Dreams

Vicious Dreams

They devour me

Hunger claws at me from within

I am ravenous for the future

They mock me

All my vicious Dreams

Rabbit Season

The noise of glass hitting the ground sounded throughout the house like a gunshot. Maura’s eyes were ripped open in shock as she let out a horrifying

scream. The remains of the dead animal lay in a mangled heap on her porch. The animal’s throat had been ripped open, and its eyes clawed out. Red bloodstains soaked into the welcome mat, and although the creature had been ripped apart and mutilated beyond repair, the white cotton-ball tail lying off to the side gave it away as a rabbit. A dead rabbit. A dead rabbit that someone had left on her porch for her to discover. What kind of a sick, disgusting person would do such a horrible thing, She thought, and then leave it on my front porch almost like some cruel, sadistic message? She pondered over this last thought for a moment, until it became the first thing to sit right with her since the sight of the tortured rabbit; someone was trying to send her a message… or a warning. She turned to walk inside and call the police when she saw a flutter of paper stuck between two planks of wood, which helped make up the front porch. She reached down and snatched it up between two fingers. As she lifted it up to her face to read it, she realized just how clear the message was. Written messily with what looked like the rabbit’s blood, the slip of paper said: I Know What You Are. And You Know What Happens Next. Leave, You Piece Of Filth.  The paper slipped from her hand and caught the wind, flying away. She dropped the cracked handle of her broken teacup onto the ground just before she threw up all over it.

Exposed

Alicia pulled back the curtain and wrapped a towel around her naked body. She loved that clean, silky feeling she got from a nice shower. She looked around for where she’d set her clothes. Ah, there they were, right next to the sink. She took her towel from around her and stuck it on her head, in a lazy attempt to dry her hair. Slipping into her clothes, she looked up at the mirror above the sink. That was when she saw the writing. Alicia screamed.

On the fogged-up, antique-store mirror, someone had written a message: “I know your secret. If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you” Alicia quaked with wholehearted, unconditional fear. They’d been here, in her house. They’d been in here, in this room, while she was showering. Worst of all, they knew her secret. How could they possible know? Nobody who knew had survived; she’d made sure of that. She suddenly felt more exposed and vulnerable than a newborn child.

A cool breeze tickled the back of her neck. She shakily veered her head, goose bumps erupting across her skin. The small screen window sat open behind her, welcoming the winter chill. Alicia froze as she saw that the screen had been ripped away. 

Pursuit

For a recap, view posts with label "Cedric and Virginia's Story"

Cedric knelt in awe at the mystifying duchess. She lifted her head imperiously,

            “It is not him; he is not the one. Far too weak of will.” Cedric did not feel insulted, rather warmed that she spoke of him. His sudden dependence on her was sick, wrong, unnatural, but Cedric didn’t know any better anymore. The duchess lowered her eyes to meet Cedric’s gaze.

            “Is it one of your sons that I seek? How would you feel, if I took one of them? Or maybe it is your wife, sad little Virginia? Yes, maybe it is she.” Cedric suddenly had a moment of clarity. His wife and children were in danger; he had to do something. His hands searched for a weapon, anything, when he found himself hanging inches from the ground, the duchess’s hand the only thing keeping him from falling. Her voice rang out to her guards,

            “Find her, find her and bring her to me. Perhaps she is something… special. Oh, and would you please dispose of … this,” She said this as if he was an animal, a lowly, disgusting animal.

Prisoner

The light spiraled into the room like a spider spinning its web. How long had she been asleep? Was it the moon or the sun that voyaged through the small hole in the ceiling? Victoria sat in utter silence. Her ankle was stained with dark purple splotches, devoured by the pain they brought. She wished she had a knife; then she could slice it off and rid herself of the ache it caused her. She felt blood streaming from the cuts that lined her forearms and wrists, even though she could not see them, tied up with splintered rope behind her back. Her belly ached with unbearable hunger.

A loud creak resounded through the room, the wooden floor carrying the cacophony. The stone door flew open with a noisy thwack. She recognized the man that walked in as if he’d only existed in a dream. She knew his eyes, oh, those eyes. They glowed a fierce shade of yellow, like a cat’s. He had a syringe in his right hand, filled with a pale, sea-foam fluid. He was here to kill her; they couldn’t get any answers from her, so they were giving up. She started to laugh; she couldn’t help it; the shifters were always so lazy. They lacked the diligence that her kind had. They didn’t know that she wanted nothing more than to die, to make the pain of her life leave, to abandon the burning of her stomach, the stinging of her wrists, the aching of her ankle.

The witch’s cackles filled the room, absorbing every nook and cranny. The insane chuckle stole his attention. He took a step back. The malevolent face of the witch caused a cold sweat to break out. It drenched his body with sticky fear. She didn’t stop. He took a reluctant step forward, worried to carry out the job. They would kill him if he didn’t do it. Her burning laugh was all he could hear. Still cautious, he strode up to Victoria. The cackles were deafeningly loud, almost shrieking. He quickly stabbed the needle into her neck. Victoria’s vision began to fade, but her psychotic smile stayed. her last laugh stopped in her throat as the poison reached her heart. She would go where nothing, not even the pain, could follow.

Fascinated

Her sapphire eyes sparkled with curiosity. Cedric smiled back at the lady who stood before him. What reason could a duchess possibly have to require him? Cedric’s cows were run dry, his farms barren, his animals bore no meat, and he could no longer wield a blade. The noblewoman laughed as if she could hear his thoughts from where she stood. Still, he wondered. Why would such an elite lady want a mere commoner, why would she send men armed with swords on horseback to summon and fetch him? What must his wife, Virginia think? What will his children say when and if he arrives home again?

“Cedric,” the seductive sounds that rolled off her tongue caught him off guard. Her beauty was that of a siren, only to be matched by that of the Queen, Herself. Cedric looked up into the duchess’s face. She gazed into his eyes while motioning with her hands for him to come closer. He shuffled forward, unaware of the soldiers that surrounded him. They followed inwards to form a tighter arc around the poor farmer.

When Cedric was only a half an arm’s length away, the duchess reached out her hand. Cedric almost moved away, but decided to stay, compelled by an invisible force. He leaned his head in farther.

“My lady,” He whispered. She traced the scar that ran from his forehead to his left cheek, mirroring the image with the tip her right ring finger’s nail. He was caught in the magic of her spell, hexed by her perfection. He was caught in the turbulent waves of her auburn hair, which danced on her shoulder. The world spun all around him—except for the two of them, drifting in and out of existence. He was totally and utterly captivated. He repeated his words again; the fear that she had not heard his words lingered in him still.

“My lady,” He cooed, wanting nothing but to please his mistress. He was bound to her by heart, mind, and soul. He was obligated to carry out her wishes no matter the consequences. He knelt on the ground in front of her feet, tears of longing landed silently on her toes.