The blood moon lit the gentle flowing waters, the beat of the waves washing the shore and the figure lying on the edge.
She stirred as the icy waters crept further up her legs, the tides resiliently moving forward to claim the beach. Managing to open her eyes she immediately felt the excruciating pain resounding in her head. The metallic taste in her mouth and the flow of blood that ran down the back of her throat forcing her to gag.
In a confused haze she pulls herself up, trying to gauge her surroundings. This only adds to her confusion.
Last thing she remembered was running. It had been late when she had gotten home from work. All she had wanted to do was run, breath deep the night air and clear her head of that insufferable ring tone and that loud intrusive laugh of Grace, the office jester.
With her layered make-up and red lipstick which was constantly reapplied, resulting in the rouge creeping up her teeth. Grace reminded Jen of a hyena eating a pig, with her cackling laugh followed by that ridiculous snort.
She shivered, bringing herself back to her confusion. She tried to clear the fog in her mind…. what had happened?
Running, yes that was it.
She had taken the route that bypassed the harbour, the smell of fish from the auction house holding heavy in the air. The last few trawler men nodding in approval at her as she had ran past. Jen knew she could catch their eye, long blonde hair, blue eyes and a figure she had worked hard for. OK she may have put some money in there too, but who cares… everyone was doing it now.
But then something else caught her attention, the alley that went between The Port Pub and The Trinket shop. That’s where she saw the burning ember of a cigarette being risen to an unseen mouth, the dull glow becoming a fiery orange as someone drew deep on it, but that glow was enough for her to see yellow stained teeth, a sneer attached to them that threatened to engulf her. The coil of smoke was exhaled and lost to the darkness and so too was the figure.
Its eyes were still on her, she was unable to pick them out but she could still feel them, it caused a cold sweat to run from her pores. Quickening her pace she took the disused launching road down to the moonlit beach to escape the feeling.
It was then she felt she could relax, the beach gently lit my the moon. The only sound she could hear was of her feet hitting the sand, crunching heavily under her powerful stride.
She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she was not entirely sure when she had noticed the burning ember or had smelt the sickly sweet nicotine ahead of her.
Stopping dead in her tracks she held her breath… it had to be someone else, there was only one way on and off this stretch and that was behind her. Unnerved, she stumbled backwards and fell heavily, hitting her head upon a rock, darkness comes to her fast, it whispers in her ear to sleep and she listens.
Jen is now where she is, terror grips her body as she realises why she is here, where is that figure? She put herself out here, she feels foolish for her own behaviour. The impact of her situation now hits her, her body finds a renewed strength.
She finds her arms, her finger finds a solid buried deep within the sand and her legs find power.
Jen is up, her legs are moving before her mind has caught up… she hears it…
The crunch of sand behind her, it is there, its feet finding a seamless pattern behind her.
Her heart in her throat, the taste of blood still fragrant in her mouth she pushes her body to extremes, her inner voice screams… ” RUN DAMN IT”.
It is upon her, it can smell her fear and taste the blood in the air, Jen is felled….
He takes her, he knows she is now weak, nothing like beautiful in fear.
The terror is now in her eyes as he pins her down, his mouth forced on her lips and his tongue probes for her fear. He has her taste on him now, his tongue now works it’s way across her cheek, looking for her life blood.. he has found it, biting hard on her pulsating neck and the metallic taste of crimson in his mouth encourages his want for her… life is weak, he thinks as his lips lock solid…
He has taken what he needs, what is left of her remains his daemons take. The body he has left is now devoured and consumed in the slithering mass of vile malevolence. He watches over them as they feast on her. Running his finger across his lips where her crimson blood remains he feels triumphant at her soul within him struggling, sneering in the knowledge that she belongs to him now.
This is only the beginning. We watch, we taste, we shall belong again…
On the beach, in her mind and drawing her last breath, Jen hears Grace laugh… like a hyena eating a pig.