Windows, 1936


The black paint was a bad sign.

I entered the house with the Colts drawn. My experiences from earlier in the day had left me with a bad taste in my mouth when it came to the color black, especially when there was a thick layer of black paint over the windows.

I moved slowly, keeping to the edges of the floors and listening for any sort of warning.

I heard it a moment later.

There was a clank and a scuffle, as though something was rummaging around in the room ahead of me and to the right. I crept up to the doorway and peered into the room. A small girl knelt upon a chair beside a battered sewing machine. Her face was one of intense concentration as she explored the depths of a jar. I watched as she smiled and withdrew a hand, a cookie clutched in one small, chubby fist.

My eyes were locked on her mouth, searching for the telltale teeth of a vampire as she brought the cookie up to her lips.

Her teeth, I saw, were normal.

A blow to the back of my head caught me by surprise and sent me staggering into the room, twisting as I did so.

A young man of twenty or so came into the room, his hands clenched into fists, a grin full of sharp teeth cutting across his face.

The girl continued to eat her cookie as I brought the Colts up and snapped off a pair of shots.

The vampire was quick, though, and managed to dodge a killing blow. His left arm went limp as he howled and leapt for me.

I didn’t bother trying to get out of the way.

I didn’t want to turn my back on him.

Instead, I let him grab hold of me with his good hand, and I stuffed the muzzle of one Colt against his groin and pulled the trigger.

The bullet blazed up and through him, exiting his collar bone and causing him to gasp.

As he opened his mouth, I shoved the barrel of the other Colt into the back of his throat and pulled the trigger. He flopped down, sagging against me even as I took hold of his head and tore it from the few bits of flesh, keeping it in place.

A glance at the little girl showed she was far more interested in the cookie than anything else in the room.

I couldn’t blame her.

The cookie looked a damned sight better than the vampire’s headless corpse.

#fear #horrorstories #paranormal

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Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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