A Beautiful Mistake

Icy cold fear sliced through me like a knife as I stumbled. My snow drenched clothes did nothing against the cold wind that kept blowing around me. I ran and ran, glancing back ever so slightly. I could see that he was running after me again, his steps quick and sure. And boy was he fast. I stumbled through the thick trees, running as fast as I could. I couldn’t stop now. If I did, I was dead. And even though he was eventually going to catch me, I wanted to die fighting. I tripped on a gnarled oak branch as I ran and fell into the snow, face first. My body was exhausted and unconsciousness threatened to swallow me up whole - I greeted it welcomely, but yet it did not fully take over. I breathed in short gasps of air, wanting everything to stop just for one second. I heard an involuntary sigh of relief behind me. A few footsteps and I could see the outline of the stranger standing before me. I lifted my head up with all my willpower. I could feel liquid running down my head, and I put my hand up and felt that it was blood.
The man knelt down in front of me, lifting my chin up to meet his steady gaze.
“You truly are a fighter. It’s such a shame I’m so hungry, though ” he said to me quietly.
“If you’re going to kill me, do it quickly. Have mercy!” I replied. I was surprised that my voice sounded steady and sure – something I definitely was not feeling inside.
“Oh, I’m afraid I have plans for you, Charlotte.” His voice had changed now, it was sort of muffled. I wondered why, when he smiled a wide grin and I could see the long canine teeth of animal actually grow bigger. My breathing heightened and I could feel the blood rushing through my veins at a very fast speed. All the while, I was saying to myself,
This is just a dream. Don’t be stupid – you are hallucinating!
I wasn’t so sure of myself now, and I knew that my life was going to end here. I sighed, not afraid of this man anymore. I just wanted death to come easy, to not feel any pain. The man lifted me up in his arms, cradling me close to his chest. I looked into his eyes, but they never met mine. He was continually changing view from the cut on my head to my exposed throat with an animal hunger.
“You never told me your name,” I said evenly.
He looked surprised, but answered in a steady voice.
“My name is Louis. Louis Jones,”
I sighed again, wanting this to be over.
“Just close your eyes,” he said quietly.
I obeyed, and was glad that the darkness was consuming me. The last thing I felt was a sharp pinch on my neck as he bit into my throat.


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