I'm hiding under our staircase. Again. It didn't work last time, but maybe they'll think I'm smart enough to find a new hiding spot. I'm not. I hear their footsteps. They could be silent, so silent. Silent enough to sneak up on a mouse. Silent enough that even with their venom racing through your veins, you think it's a dream. Nothing deadly can be that silent. Wrong. I close my eyes thinking about my sister's silence.
"Shirina," Blythe calls. "Come here. Shirina?" I hesitate. I look at all the toys scattered across my room. Momma told me to make a mess before she left so it would look like we were already attacked. "Shirina!" Blythe's voice was shrill. She's scared I realize. Scared or nervous, like at school before speeches. Momma also told me to stay in my room with the door and window locked. I heard footsteps outside my door.
"I'm coming, Blythe," I say quietly. Blythe is scary when she's mad. She screams and yells and kicks. I open the door slowly and see my sister standing there. She smiles in relief. "Momma said not to leave my room," I say. Blythe frowns. She doesn't like Momma very much.
"Don't worry, Rina," Blythe said using Daddy's old nickname for me. "Nobody will ever scare you again." I feel a gust of wind. There can't be wind in the house. I turn around to see if my window in my room is open. Nope. I turn back towards Blythe knowing she'll laugh at me. She doesn't. Standing next to her is a very old man. I start to back up. There are no old people. They all go into Great Sleep at 50. He smiles at me. His teeth are fangs. I start to run back in my room. Blythe screams. I don't stop.
"He wanted you!" She yells. "Come back here, you selfish bitch!" I turn to see the man snap her neck into an awkward angle. He looks at me, takes her body, and leaves.
Momma came home later. I could hear her wailing in the kitchen. I go down and see her over Blythe. Momma was crying and Blythe was looking at me. She didn't move. Dead.
Heavy thuds at the door bring me back to now. I hear hissing, but they won't talk. They never talk. They go through the whole house. I know it. Not making any sound, but leaving a cold trail behind them. I don't dare to move. They come every week. I feel a hysterical laugh move up my chest and I smother it.
I stay still. I wait.
YOU ARE READING
Zimnos
FantasyHe looked at me. His hair was still a mess, and in the bright morning sunlight, he looked more handsome and more human than I'd ever seen him. "I guess I'm asking you to trust me," he said. He brings his hand to my face and wipes away the one tear...