Bitten

by Matt Shaw

  “You have a nice home,” I lied. As a temporary guest in his house - it probably wasn’t the best idea to side with his wife.

  “That you?” came a female voice from the other room.

  Frank turned to me, with a glint of his eye, and whispered, “A real perk of being old that no one told you about? Selective hearing.” He smiled and gave me a wink.

  “Frank?” his wife called from the other room. “Frank is that you?” Her voice got closer before she finally shuffled into the room. An elderly lady with a blue rinse haircut. Definitely in her seventies but hard to tell whether she was older, or younger, than Frank. “I was calling you,” she said, ignoring me completely.

  “I didn’t hear,” Frank lied. A knowing glance to me.

  “Oh, hello,” the old lady spotted me just as I was starting to wonder whether I had suddenly found powers of invisibility. I smiled at her and waited for Frank to introduce us - an introduction which didn’t come.

  “Telephone is this way,” said Frank. He led me down the hallway and pointed towards a small table, near to the front door, where there was a white cordless telephone waiting to be used.

  “Thank you,” I said. I picked up the telephone. Frank left me to it and returned to the kitchen. I’m glad he didn’t wait to watch me make my call. I still don’t know who I’m phoning.

  “Who’s that?” I heard the old lady in the other room. “I can’t remember the last time we had someone round...So nice...”

  I froze. My mind suddenly went into overdrive. My mind or the mind of the monster brewing within? Not sure which of the minds is talking to me but it has a point; I have no real reason to leave the house. A house in the middle of nowhere. A house with limited visitors. A house with owners who won’t put up much of a fight when I make my necessary move. This could work. I put the phone down on the side and walked back into the other room where Frank and his wife were.

  “Thank you,” I said. “They’re sending someone out soon,” I lied.

  “Would you like a drink whilst you wait?” Frank asked.

  I nodded, “Sure, thank you...”

  “Tea?” he asked.

  “No tea-bags,” the old lady chipped in.

  Frank grunted, “Coffee?”

  “No beans...” the old lady chipped in again.

  “Any chance of doing some shopping this week?” Frank asked.

  The old lady just smiled at him as though she hadn’t heard him properly and, instead of asking a question, he was actually paying her a compliment. I couldn’t help but wonder whether she was playing the ‘selective hearing’ game too. I tried not to smile.

  “Water’s fine,” I said to save an argument.

  Frank nodded and fetched a glass from a cupboard next to the sink. “I’ll pop to the village later, get some shopping in...” he muttered as he filled the glass with tap water in such a way to suggest that he was embarrassed at the lack of hot drink he was able to offer. Once full, he passed me the glass. I took it and had a sip. Warm.

  “Come,” said Frank, “let’s go sit down...Downside of being this age is you get so damned tired after a little walk.”

  He left the kitchen and walked down the hall. I dutifully following with the cup of water still in hand despite having no intention of finishing it.

  In the lounge I took a seat as offered and sat there listening to the conversations between Frank and his wife. I had a fixed smile on my face to convince my hosts that I was listening to their stories but my thoughts were somewhere else entirely. Somewhere much, much darker; ranging from hitting Frank and his wife upside the head, and hiding their bodies in one of the other rooms, to ripping their throats out with nothing but my teeth. I think the dog could sense the darkness within for occasionally - from the corner of the room where it was trying to sleep - I’d hear a low growl which I felt was aimed towards me. Can it hear my thoughts too?

  Wait.

  Not my thoughts.

  The monster within.

  The monster which wonders whether their blood tastes as sweet as I imagine it would. My stomach growled. As did the dog.

  Fuck off, mutt! A harsh outburst in the privacy of my mind on the off-chance it can hear me. The dog whimpered. I smiled and wondered whether that was just a coincidence.

  “Do you think the taxi has got lost?” the old woman asked as she looked out of the window from the comfort of her seat oblivious to the telepathic conversation I might be having with her dog. “Everyone has difficulty finding this house the first time...”

  Another factor which makes this the perfect hiding place.

  “I’m sure it will be here soon,” I said knowing full well that there was no taxi on its way.

  “There’s no rush,” the old lady said, “it’s nice to have some company for a change. Would you like to stay for something to eat? I’m sure I can rustle you up a sandwich...”

  I decided, for peace and quiet, to keep up the false story of the taxi being on its way, “That’s nice but I’m sure the taxi will be here soon.”

  “I’ll make you something nice and if the taxi comes - well he can wait. It’s only a sandwich,” she argued.

  “Thank you, that’ll be nice,” I said.

  “Tuna okay?” she asked.

  “Tuna’s great.”

  “No tuna,” said Frank. “No bread either come to that.” He didn’t wait for a retort from his wife. He stood up. “I’m going to go to the shops before they shut.” He turned to me, “It was lovely to meet you but it looks as though it’s down to me to get the shopping in...”

  I stood up and extended my hand. We shook. “Good to meet you too,” I said. “Thank you for the hospitality.” It was weird saying goodbye knowing I’d be seeing him as soon as he was back from the shops. For a split second I contemplated keeping him here but I figured it would be better to let him be seen. If people see him out and about today - chances are it will be even longer before anyone comes looking for either of them. Besides - they’re only human. They’ll need supplies if I am to keep them here. At least they’ll need supplies if they’re to be kept alive and - on that score - I haven’t made a decision yet. I smiled as Frank walked out of the room leaving his wife and I together. Another reason to let him out of the house to get some shopping - other than the perk of having full cupboards? Obvious really - I get some time alone with his wife. Get her under control before I have to get him under control. One at a time. Much easier than having to deal with them at the same time Although, at their age, I’m sure it wouldn’t have been difficult to take them both down at the same time. Hell - she probably would have collapsed out of shock without me having to lay a finger on her.

  Seconds after Frank left the lounge, I heard the front door open and close. A few more seconds and the sound of a car, parked in the drive way, fired into life.

  The old lady smiled at me, “Can I get you another cup of water?”

  “Would be lovely,” I said. A lie. I’d much prefer a cup of her warm blood trickling down my throat causing all of my senses to fire up. I shook the thought from my mind as she disappeared from the lounge to fetch a glass of water. I am not that kind of person. I am not that kind of person. Not yet at least.

  Soon.

  * * * * *

  I watched Frank’s car pull into his driveway from the upstairs window of the farmhouse. A few steps away from the glass pane so as not to be easily spotted - not that I’m sure his ailing eyesight would spot me from down there anyway. Even so - better safe than sorry.

  The car engine switched off. Frank didn’t climb from his car immediately. What’s he doing down there? Just sitting there? Perhaps catching his breath from the drive and heavy lifting of the shopping? Maybe he saw me watching him and instantly knew something was up? My mind started working in overdrive but was put at ease when the driver’s door opened and Frank climbed out. He stretched his arms out and shook them before he shut the door and walked to the boot of the car. He opened it up - several large bags filled with, from wh
at I could see, various items of groceries. Frank stepped away from the car and approached the front door of the house. I heard the keys enter the lock after a little fumbling. The door opened and banged against the radiator. Looking out of the window, I watched as he went back to the car and collected two bags of shopping. Seconds later and I could hear him walking through the house - down the hallway and towards the kitchen. I glanced out of the window again. The car is nearly empty now. It won’t be long before he comes upstairs to find out where his wife is.

  Frank made a couple more trips back and forwards to his car before going out, one last time, to close it up. He closed the boot and walked back into the house. The door slammed shut. I quietly crossed the bedroom floor and waited by the door. He’ll be upstairs soon and then I strike.

  I half expected him to call up - to let his wife know he was home - but he didn’t. Instead I could hear him walking around downstairs in the kitchen. A few cupboards opening and banging shut again. Maybe he’s putting the shopping away? It makes sense. Some of it could be frozen. Okay. Put the shopping away and then he’ll be upstairs to check on her. And then I strike.

  I was shocked when I heard him call for his dog and not his wife. He really does love that thing more than his wife. Best hope he doesn’t venture out into the barn then. Might not like what he sees. Bastard thing started growling at me when he left the house - I didn’t have a choice.

  CHAPTER NINE

  An eternity passed by - at least that’s what it felt like to me as I waited to pounce on Frank as soon as he came up the stairs. In truth – it was probably more like twenty minutes or so since he had come home with the shopping. Twenty long minutes of un-bagging the groceries and putting them into their respective cupboards in silence. Not even a call out to his wife to let him know he was home. Nothing. I thought he had been having a laugh with the way he had spoken about her while we were walking in the woods, but apparently he had meant every word of it. Still...It won’t be long before curiosity gets the better of him and he comes looking for her - even if it’s just to see if she is dead or not.

  My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching the stairs. Here we go! He’s coming up. I pressed myself against the wall to try and make myself invisible as the footsteps continued to get closer. I glanced at his wife who was lying on the bed, where I had left her. Her arms and legs still bound with the tape I had found amongst the pile of equipment Frank had dug out for his D.I.Y tasks. Another piece of tape still firmly pressed against her mouth so she couldn’t scream out a warning to Frank. Her eyes were remarkably calm for someone who was bound and gagged. I turned back to the doorway in time to see Frank walk on by as though he didn’t have a care in the world. Seconds later another door slammed shut. What the hell is he doing now? I looked over at the elderly woman and shrugged. She shrugged too as best she could.

  I have to say - everything that has happened these last few days...This tops the list of the most surreal. I tilted my head and strained to listen - see if I could hear what he was doing.

  Water. Running water. He’s going to the toilet? I looked at his wife; he really doesn’t give a shit about her. I wonder - if my life continued down a ‘normal’ route - was this the kind of relationship I could have expected from my wife? The way we were, before this happened, I guess we were close to this stage already. The only difference being - we were still relatively new in the marriage.

  A toilet flushed from the other room. Finally. Okay. He must be coming this way now. I turned back to the door and waited. Here we go. Any minute now. I braced myself as the bathroom door opened and I heard Frank step onto the landing. The plan was simple - he’d come into the room and see his wife on the bed. He’d be alarmed. I’d say his name. He’d turn to me. I’d take a swing at him and knock him off his feet. Hopefully, after a punch to the temple, he won’t put up much of a fight and it’ll be over quickly. He’ll be trussed up on his bed with his wife. The footsteps got closer. I made a fist. The footsteps...went straight past the bedroom door and started to make their way down the stairs again. Seriously? Did the sight of his wife, trussed up like a chicken on the bed, not even catch the corner of his eye or did he just ignore it?

  Quickly I crossed over to the bed. I pulled the tape off his wife’s face. She took in a short, sharp breath - no doubt caused by the tape stinging her face when I ripped it off. I’d apologise but I don’t want to give the impression of caring or else I could potentially lose control of the situation.

  “Call his name,” I whispered, “and be quick.”

  She didn’t hesitate to call out, “Frank!”

  The footsteps continued to walk away from us - getting fainter and fainter as they neared the bottom of the stairs. Fuck him with his selective hearing.

  “How are you two still together?” I asked. “Seriously?” It was a rhetorical question. One I didn’t need to know the answer to. I pressed the tape against her mouth once more. If he wasn’t coming to me then I’d have to go to him. I looked at his wife again. She didn’t try and speak. She just continued to stare at me with the same look in her eyes that she had had from the moment I made my intentions clear. A look which suggested she didn’t care anymore. With the way her relationship is it’s easy to understand her lack of fight. Unless of course she just knew there was nothing she could do to stop me. “Wait here,” I whispered.

  I walked out of the bedroom as quietly as I could. Not sure why. Chances are, if he did hear me, he’d just presume I was his wife anyway. I headed down the stairs whilst straining to hear if I could tell which room he was in. Typically he’s silent now. At a guess I’d presume he was in the lounge. Maybe he’s put his feet up - tired from the afternoon shop. Especially considering the walk he had this morning too. I know I’m tired and I’m half his age. At least.

  At the bottom of the stairs I looked down the hallway towards the kitchen. No signs of movement from there. Directly across from where I was standing was the lounge. No signs of movement from there either. No sounds anywhere to indicate where he might be. A quick glance at the front door; it was still shut. He hadn’t gone that way. Part of me wants to call out to him but that would ruin the element of surprise. Mind you - again - taking his age into consideration...Do I need the element of surprise?

  “Frank?”

  Movement from the lounge. I crossed the hallway and stepped into the lounge where Frank was trying to get out of his chair.

  “You’re still here? The taxi still hasn’t shown up?” he extended his hand to greet me again but I didn’t take it. A puzzled expression crossed his face.

  “There is no taxi,” I said. “I never ordered one...”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “I want to show you something upstairs,” I said. He didn’t say anything. Still the same puzzled look. “Trust me,” I said. A funny thing to say considering what’s waiting for him upstairs. We both just stood there for a moment. I didn’t want to force him up the stairs and he wasn’t sure whether he really wanted to go. A lack of trust on his part? Hardly surprising considering he doesn’t know me and I’m still in his house despite making previous arrangements to leave.

  “What is it?” he asked eventually.

  “Come on,” I said. “After you...” I stepped back against the door and motioned for him to go up the stairs.

  He didn’t move. “What is it?” he asked again.

  “Your wife is upstairs. She’s waiting for you.”

  A sudden smile on his face. “You killed her?” he asked.

  I took a step back, “What?”

  “Did you kill her?” he asked again.

  “What? No. No, I didn’t.” I was further taken aback when I realised I hadn’t misheard what Frank had said. “She’s upstairs. She’s fine. Jesus, what is it with you people? I’m not a monster...Well not yet at least...Fuck, Frank! Go and see for yourself...” Frank walked past me and headed up the stairs with me following close behind. “In the bedroom,” I said as we r
eached the top of the stairs. Frank turned into the bedroom and stopped in the doorway. His eyes were fixed on what he saw within. I pushed past him and into the bedroom. I picked up a roll of tape which I had left on the bed, next to his wife, and threw it at Frank who - considering his age - snatched it from mid-air. I didn’t congratulate his reflexes despite the fact they impressed me. “I need you to bind your legs together,” I said.

  He looked at the tape, over at his wife and back to me again. “Can I at least lie on the bed?” he asked.

  “Of course, make yourself comfortable.”

  He walked over to the bed and sat on the edge of it. Without hesitation he started to bind his legs together.

  “Everything’s going to be okay,” I told him.

  “Are you going to kill us?”

  “What is it with you and killing?” he asked.

  “A request; can you kill her first?” He looked me in the eye and waited for an answer. I didn’t give him one but wondered whether he wanted her to die first so he could enjoy watching the act or whether it was because he didn’t like the idea of her having to see her husband brutally murdered, knowing that she was next.