Thirsty Little Demon

The Visitor

This story gots the nasties in it. Just a warning. You no like the nasties then this isn't the story for you my fran..🖤

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"What the hell is wrong with them? When you hear crap like that, you don't go investigate, you run!"

I declare to the TV as if it would listen.

"Uh-uhhh... You won't see that shit happen to me.."

Ever since I could remember, I've always loved horror movies and thrillers, despite being terrified of my childhood Boogeyman under my bed. They always gave me a cold rush of adrenaline, so it came to no surprise when I found myself binge-watching horror movies downstairs up until 2:57 am on a Saturday.

Yes, I know what you're thinking, I must be insane.

True, I knew better than to watch horror movies around three; with a mind as paranoid as mine, any imagination became real. However, I've seemed to have lost track of time along with my mind, taking that it's almost 3:00. With that being said, right when the end credits to The Conjuring came on, I shut off the TV and quickly got up. My partner in crime who was once snuggled so comfortably against my thigh stretched with a loud silent yawn.

"Come one bestie, before thirsty little demons come after us!"
Her head tilted to the side, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Too soon?"

I think she disapproved of my painfully evident, nervous humor.
"You're right..." I say soberly.

Her eyes told me, "Of course I am, bitch..." She knew better than I did, she was the brains in this relationship.

"Come on Bib. Let's go."

At that, she perked up and wiggled her tail, following me into the kitchen in anticipation. I decided to give her a view treats for her dedication. Staying by my side up till three in the morning was a hard commitment for her. Her heavy breathing and greedy laps at the peanut butter treats brought a smile to my face.

"Ya little greedy!"

I opened the fridge only to find that my bowl of cherries was gone. My Gama must have eaten it, although I don't recall.. I mean, I'm not sure why... She said it gave her dysentery... Although I think she meant diarrhea. Her mind is starting to get scattered.

I guess that'll be me one day too.

I poured myself a glass of 2% milk and warmed it up. Spongebob drank a warm glass of snails milk to help him sleep, I just wanted to test that theory with regular milk, knowing it was probably not true. Even so, it wouldn't hurt to try.

What? I was feeling nostalgic.

Just as I pulled the glass to my lips, Bib started to growl behind me. Her legs braced, looking head-on into the darkness of the dining room and the entire space of the kitchen became instantly dark where the light didn't touch but I was too focused on my dog to care or notice.

"Bib, what's--"

Normally when I hear the eerie cry of my grandmother's warped floors in the midst of the devil's hour, I simply dismiss it by pretending I didn't hear shit -- convinced that if I ignored what my imagination conjured, I'll prove to myself that I'm not a pussy. This normally occurs when I desperately need to pee and quickly run down the hall before the demons got me.
But I wasn't in the confinement of a tiny bathroom where I knew I would be safe.