Short Story: Karma - A Roger and Annette Bryant Short Story

There back! This time with something a little more scarier. You thought getting sucked into a cyberspace Hell was scary? Check this out...

As in previous short stories, I would like to say that if YOU, yes you, sitting there, has a short story and would like to have it featured on Scared Sheetless, then don't be shy! Just send it to me at scaredsheetlessncn@hotmail.com but please remember to put "Short Story" as the title. I get a lot of spam in my email.

Rated T for Teen

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A Roger Bryant/Annette Bryant

Collaboration

 

          The Grandfather clock ticks away the minutes. It won't be long now before my freedom. I watch it very closely, because in a way my life depends on it. Five minutes until midnight, until I'm free. I can already smell the sweat of my next victim walking down the side walk. In a few minutes I should be able to eat them alive, as it were. A pleasurable feeling comes over me, that will feel even better once I have a human body. I can feel my excitement growing as the chance to regain my old power draws nearer. There are few older, stronger, or more clever than I, yes, few, but they have not been seen or heard of in Eons.

          I feel a jolt of pain that has been lost to me for a very long time. It's very intense now, almost unbearable. I can't help but smile. It feels like a spike piercing me. My neck cracks, my shoulders ache in their sockets and I am loving the pain. My body is not only  aching with power but with the need  and anticipation as well. The being just out of my reach is coming closer. I can sense the blood pumping within its' body, and that it is female. Ah, easy prey. I move closer to the door, loving the exquisite ache in my joints and the thrill of having my limbs obey my commands once again. I am drawing strength just from the anticipation.

          It is midday and the  heat and brightness of the Sun bothers me. The scent of the females' blood is keeping me moving forward. I stop abruptly as she screams out in a tight voice, “Roger Alan, Get a move on!”  I relaxed a bit when I realize she has not been speaking to me but to someone else, someone following behind her, quietly, so quietly , that until now, I had not sensed them, this small, quiet, lagging child.

          Now I have a problem: Which one? I know there are rules against taking children, but the more I sense its' heartbeat, the smell of its' blood, the more it entices me to go against the rules. I can feel the irritation the female feels for this child, as the child refuses to obey the commands of the female, its' mother. I can feel her anger. Yes, children are against the rules, too unpredictable.

          I slow down, both in pace and thought. I am keeping my focus only on the female, even though everything else within me is drawn to the child. It must be the curiosity of it since, if I had noticed the child before, I would have targeted another. There are rules, and children are off limits so I have little experience even being this close to one. I renew my focus on the female, trying to summon my power for the transformation. It seems harder than I remember since my last transformation. I feel my anger escalating.

          As I close in, the female looks over her shoulder. I can feel her unease, something is wrong. She senses me, and turns around. I use her fear to press more strongly against the shield that keeps us out of the world of mortals as my powers are approaching their zenith. My entire self is brimming with anger, violence and hatred. The doomed female stiffens as I enter her through her eyes. I ease in, as I now have her soul. She falls to the pavement. Her soul lays in my hand.

          I feel disgust. This is a weak soul. I try to smell and taste it, but there is no smell or taste. This one will not last very long. I take her soul and let it slide down my throat. I begin to consume it, it doesn't last long. It's gone. I look down at the female. She is still. Like her soul, she is gone.

          I direct my attention towards the child. I am curious as to what he will do. He gets on his hands and knees, beside his mother. He does not check to see if she is alright. He does not weep for her. Instead he balls his small hands into small fists and punches her right in the face. She doesn't respond, not even a fraction, as she now belongs to death. I know that a body cannot survive without its soul. The boy starts to punch his mother again. If I continue to allow this, he just might ruin the body before I can make use of it. I can now break through the barrier.

          The boy stops and looks at me, he can now see me as I am. I look at him and he stares at me. He is grinning. I grin back, letting him see my oversized teeth, my fangs. He doesn't move, nor does he take his eyes away from me as I let him see exactly what I am. He finally looks away at a piece of rock on the pavement.

          I use this time to enter his mother. I slide down her throat. It is tight. I almost get stuck and I can hear her bones popping as I go further down. I am almost too much for her to take. I continue pushing until I reach her heart. It flutters but just barely. She is not  all the way dead after all. There is a spark of soul remaining. I take it as I now make myself at home in my new body.

          I then open my eyes to the world and see the sunlight and smell the earthly scents that I have missed. Then the pain comes. My new eyeball is reduced to ruin as the boy smashes the rock into my face. I try to move to get away but my new body will not respond yet. I must endure the pain. I use my power to heal this body I have taken over. My host body is bleeding badly. I am weak. I then feel the rock smashing against my teeth. My fangs. The pain is terrible. I use all my power to stand and I am finally able to begin my escape.

          Blood is streaming down my face as if it is raining. Even if I cannot take this child, even if I cannot kill him, I can at least hurt him. I can make this a memory that will scar him forever and he will never  escape the nightmares I plan on instilling in his mind, horrid enough to last a lifetime.

          I let him look upon his bleeding mother. I let him see all the blood and the ruined eyes and teeth. I leave him with the puzzle as to how and why his mothers' body will not die, to wonder if she will haunt him the rest of his life, to be haunted by the fear she may one day exact the same things upon him that he delivered to her.

          I then turn away and start down the street. I hear what sounds like a bus coming down the street. I have to get away, something is terribly wrong here. I have never had a transformation like this in my oh so long life. It must be the child. There are rules. This must be some terrible side effect of the child being involved. There are rules and I did not heed them. I will never again let a child witness my transformation.

          I need another host, this body is used up. I can feel myself falling to the ground. I can feel this females' head hitting the pavement. I can scarcely move. I  open my one good eye and the sun is blaring down on me. I can feel its warmth and its brightness. I can barely see and then the sun is blocked. I find myself in the shade of the boy.

           I focus on the boy, this small, quite, lagging boy standing above me, once again with that same knowing grin. I can feel something trying to force its way down my throat. I squirm to try and get away but I can't move. The small child stares at me and that is the moment he allows me to see his true face. To see him for what he really is. I'm paralyzed with fear. It is engulfing me. I have never known fear before. I can't resist as it snatches up my hosts' heart. Now I  know what it feels like to be possessed. I was not the oldest, strongest or most clever of my kind.