Night Hunt

• Shane Wright, Grade 7
• Short Story
• 2011

The constant onslaught of harsh icy wind rushed against my skin like an army which will never give up the battle even if there is only one man left standing. The small cottage made of stone protected the people inside it, keeping them warm, keeping their hearts beating. The thought of their hearts pounding the blood through their veins made my mouth water like a humans would if they saw a million dollars lying in front of them. I quickly remembered the reason I had come here tonight and hunched over preparing for my great act. Rain started to blast down upon me as I walked towards the oak door on it’s rusty hinges. I licked my lips as I prepared myself for a world class act. I knocked on the door and cringed as my fingers struck the hot surface of the rusted hinges. The burn was unbearable. You may think we don’t go out during the day because we are in your terms “allergic” to sun light but this is not true. We simply cannot stand heat. It burns us like a fire would burn you. It is excruciating. And the sun is just a big ball of the hottest element around so you can see my point. The small country side had few houses scattered around so I had terrible chances of someone walking in while I was feasting. I heard the disgruntled voice of Mr Doogan from inside the living room muttering under his breath. The door opened, releasing a blast of incredible painful warmth. I gritted my teeth and put on a smile.
“May I come in sir? Please just for the night I couldn’t bear to be out here any longer. This is torturing me.” I said to him chattering my teeth as I played the role I had rehearsed so many times before.
“Of course Jonathan. What do you think you are doing out here anyway?” Mr Doogan asked stepping aside so I could get through the door. I walked in and cringed. The damn fire was burning no wonder it was so hot in here.
“Mrs Doogan. Natalie.” I said nodding to each of them. I stood in the corner by the window not wanting to go to close to the fire. The Doogan’s seven year old daughter stared at him like a baby stared at candy. I smiled at her then clenched my fist. The harsh wind flew through the window and knocked the humans of their seats. The fire went out and then my eyes became useful. I jumped onto Natalie and sunk my teeth into the smooth flesh of her leg. The warm liquid filled my mouth and ran down my chin. It dripped onto the floor and stained the pure white carpet.