Bitten

by Matt Shaw

  I twisted the tap on and let the cold water fill the sink before I used it to wash my face clean. Can’t have Frank and his family seeing me like this. Can’t be seen to be weak - not that I am. Well my body isn’t. My mind is ailing for sure.

  I pulled the plug from the sink to drain the dyed-red water. I sat myself down on the toilet next to the sink and watched as the water swirled its way around the sink and down the hole. I feel physically strong but mentally drained. Can’t seem to think straight on how best to get my way out of this mess. Thoughts get stuck on the sight of Laura in her underwear and Helen of Troy mixed with this insatiable hunger. I wish, man I wish that I could turn the clock back and do things again. I’d have gone home early. I’d have left the work for the next day. I’d have hugged my wife. Tried to make things right. We’d have had dinner together. Maybe talked. Maybe made love like we used to? None of this would have happened.

  The downstairs phone started to ring through the house. Great. Someone else trying to organise to come round? Another surprise like Laura? Someone else Frank forgot to mention that might pop over. Just ignore it. It’s probably just telemarketers anyway. I suddenly froze. A second later I sat upright. Alert. My ears twitched. I turned and looked out of the bathroom and across the landing space to the second bedroom. Oh shit. The phone continued to ring and I knew why now. I’d made a mistake. A silly, silly mistake. And just like that everything was over. I hurried across the landing as quickly as I could (but not as quickly as I’d hoped) and charged into the room where I’d left Laura. She screamed when I ran in and dropped her mobile phone on the floor. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  “What have you done?”

  The phone ringing downstairs. She’d given them the house number so they could talk to me. She’d given them the house number so they could see what I wanted and what it’d take to let the hostages go. You stupid fucking bitch. I wasn’t going to hurt you. I wasn’t going to hurt any of you but now I feel trapped. Backed into a corner. I dashed towards her and grabbed her arm. She screamed again. My initial feeling of panic suddenly turned to one of violent anger and bitter hatred.

  “Come here!” I yelled as I pulled her out of the bedroom and across the landing to the second room. “You’re a stupid bitch! I wasn’t going to hurt you! Any of you!” Frank and his wife panicked when they saw us enter the room. I shoved Laura into the corner of the room where she fell against a small make-up table - a table which splintered into pieces under her weight and the force with which she hit it. She screamed out again in pain but it didn’t matter. At least it didn’t matter to me. She brought it upon herself. I turned to Frank and his wife with the phone still ringing through both the house and my head. “This is her fault!” I yelled. “You know who what is on the phone?” They both shook their heads. I pulled Frank up and shoved him against the window. “Tell me what you see!” I ripped the tape from his mouth but I didn’t need him to tell me what he saw beyond the window glass. I could hear his thoughts - crystal clear - in his head. The police were out there. Vehicles in the drive, vehicles in the road and so many officers - some of which were armed with pistols and higher spec guns. The phone stopped ringing. They’d got the hint that I wasn’t in the mood for talking with them. The thing is - if I thought they’d have believed me - I might have been more open to the suggestion of a conversation. But the reaction of this family here told me everything I needed to know; no one would believe me.

  I heard Frank’s thoughts and turned around just in time to catch his frail fist as he swung it towards me. The officers were getting ready to breach the property. He foolishly believed a punch would distract me from harming any of his family. He was wrong. I squeezed his hand until I heard multiple cracks. I laughed. He screamed. His wife screamed through the tape. His daughter screamed. I looked towards his daughter - thoughts of my wife all but gone now as I pictured Laura in her underwear again. I’m feeling strong. No. I’m feeling invincible. I’ll deal with these officers first; squash them as though they’re nothing to me. And then I’ll fuck Laura’s brains out. Literally. Might even wear Dear Old Frank’s Face as a mask. Goodbye Humanity. Hello new me. Speaking of which...I turned around with my mouth wide open and pulled Frank towards me. He didn’t put up a fight as I clamped my teeth around his throat. Who needs fangs? Screams around the room again as the sound of the wooden door downstairs gave way under the weight of the officer’s battering ram. Frank’s warm blood spewed into my mouth. The first swallow made me gag but I soon became accustomed to the taste. Blissful. The sound of the footsteps running up the stairs were drowned out for a moment. The sound of the screams also disappeared as I experienced my first taste of human blood - my stomach growling for more. Can’t get enough of this. I tore a bigger piece from his neck allowing more blood to cascade into my mouth. Delicious. Had I know it tasted this good I never would have....I dropped Frank and turned around with the last droplets of his blood dripping from my mouth. I saw what was coming but not fast enough. Pre-occupied with the taste of Frank’s blood. I looked down in horror at the wooden table leg sticking from my chest - Laura’s firm grip on the other end of it. Her scream coming back into my hearing. Not a scream of fear as I first believed (and enjoyed) but a scream of rage. The first of the officers appeared in the doorway - guns aimed high. I took a pointless swipe at Laura in the hope of catching her throat with my claw-like fingers but missed as the officer’s took aim and opened fire. Heavy slug after heavy slug hitting my chest and throat as Laura dove to the floor to avoid getting hit - not that she was in any danger from the officers. The gunfire stopped and I dropped to my knees. Laura was wailing for Frank. Frank’s wife was on the bed, tears streaming down her face, unable to move from the restraints still in place and the officers were hurrying to everyone’s aid. Everyone except me. I looked down to Frank - his lifeless eyes staring back at me. I gave a final look to the piece of wood sticking out from my chest. Of all the things she could have done to me. She stuck me with a wooden stake. I looked at the ceiling as my eyes rolled to the back my head just before I slumped forward - ramming the stake in further.................

  EPILOGUE

  The doors to the hospital morgue swung open as a young-looking porter pushed the gurney against it. He entered the room and wheeled the gurney to the centre where he left it. As he turned back to the door it swung open again as one of his equally-young colleagues walked in holding a file in his left hand.

  “You dropped this,” the second porter pointed out. “Did you look at it?”

  “No. Not really my thing. I just take them from point a to point b.”

  “You never get tempted to look?”

  “What’s the point? It’s not going to bring them back.”

  “Morbid curiousity? To see the many fucked up ways people can die? Some of them are pretty fucking funny to be fair. Not this one though. This one - sickest I’ve seen so far.” He peered around his colleague to try and see the body. “Let’s take a look.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s take a look. I want to see. It says in this report...”

  “I don’t care what it says in the report and I don’t want to see a dead person. Come on let’s get back upstairs. It gives me the creeps down here.”

  “You can go if you want but I want to see.”

  “You’re not right in the head. Anyone ever tell you that?”

  “Frequently. Come on...”

  “I don’t want any part of this.” He pushed his way past his colleague and out of the door which swung shut behind him. For a split second his colleague contemplated following until his eyes were drawn to the bloodied sheet covering the body.

  “Suit yourself but I need to see this.” He walked over to the gurney and dropped the file on the legs of the body. “Okay - let’s take a look,” he said. He pulled back the sheet and his eyes went wide. There on the gurney in front of him was an old man by the name of Frank who’d had his throat torn out. ‘Bitten out’ according to the report he’d snuck a look at.
“Seriously fucked up!” he laughed. “How’d you even let someone do that to you anyway? Surely you’d put up some kind of fight? Crazy old fool...” He threw the cover back over the corpse and turned from the gurney, “I’d suggest a closed casket,” he laughed.

  “Thank you for the tip young man,” came an elderly voice from behind the porter.

  The porter froze on the spot. Slowly he turned around fearing for what he was about to see. His heart stopped when he saw the sheet on the floor. More importantly - there was no body on the gurney.

  “What the fuck?!” he said. In a panic he turned to run from the room and, in doing so, turned directly into Frank who’d positioned himself behind him the porter. The porter screamed.

  “If I were you,” said Frank with a sadistic tone unheard in his voice before, his red eyes managing to glisten in the low light of the mortuary, “I’d opt for a closed casket.” He opened his mouth to reveal two protruding canine teeth. Before the orderly had a chance to scream Frank sunk his new canines deep into the man’s neck and began drinking as though it were his first ever drink. As the old Frank had died, the new Frank was born.

  T H E E N D

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