Flash fiction · Photo Friday

Waiting

In the darkness I wait.

I know you are approaching. I can smell your scent.  Fear seeps from your pores announcing your presence long before my eyes feast upon your form.

I hear the thunderous cacophony playing within your chest as your heart beats ever faster in keeping with the increasing momentum of your feet.

You knew you should not walk this way, that you should have stayed on the illuminated path but your arrogance persuaded you that those few minutes saved would be worth the discomfort of the walk through the woods.

This is my space, my time upon which you intrude.  One should be wary of what one awakes in the darkness.

I can see you now in the distance, you pull your jacket a little closer as if that will protect you from your fate.  I can smell your cologne now a musk smell which mingled with your fear excites my senses. A growl escapes my lips little more than the wind through the branches but you halt.

I watch as you look round, listening for the sound to be repeated and it will, I promise, just not quite yet.

Silently I transform into the image that will bring your doom and wait as you pick up your pace walking towards your destiny.

Close enough now you will see what I want you to see, the naked female form stepping out before you on the path.  Shock, surprise then a flash of lust reflect in your eyes and you move towards me.

I allow you to gather me in your arms, your voice seeks to reassure me, your assumption I need protecting admirable though so very misplaced as you will discover.  Yours thoughts race from helping me to what you think your reward should be.  My face buried against you chest as my lips curl back in a grin that would reveal the canines that shall soon taste you flesh.

You look round for my imagined assailant, seeing no one. I shiver with anticipation, you begin to take off your jacket intent on covering me as much to relieve your own increasing lust as to provide warmth for me.

My lips press against you neck now tongue flicking out to lap the salt that forms the sheen on your skin.  intoxicated by the smell of you I can no longer hold back.

You scream briefly as I tear out your throat, your heart beats on pumping the liquid from the wound that I lap up hungrily.  I let out the call and the pups emerge from the undergrowth, tonight dinner shall be served warm I lick my lips and the feast begins.

16 thoughts on “Waiting

    1. Thankyou was one of those ideas that came completely out of the blue and I actually found I quite liked this one myself which is unusual for me normally am quite insecure about what I have written

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      1. I’m happiest when I like what I’ve written. That’s a measure of my “mood” for the day too haha On days I like it I’m good. On days I write what I hate, I’m crabby. 🙂

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