Creature of Unknown Origin


And yet, I still tried. It was meaningless, yes, but still I tried. Right now, the best I could

do was keep moving into the corner and look away from the beast. My eyes gravitated toward the

painting hung on the adjacent wall.

It depicted a man and wife, each in gothic garb. The frills of the woman’s high -necked

dress reminded me of a noose. I hesitated; my whole body locked in place. The clock unwound its

toll on the painting, only to show me the twisted souls it showcased. The cobwebs parted like

curtains for an exhibit. I didn’t like what was displayed, but all I could do was watch in horrified

silence as the painting went from old to lively once more. The colors that were once faded with

age were bright and crisp with freshness, completely alive again. The figures were eager, like they

were chanting something. The room closed in on me. The painted figures were animated, but not

to save me — no, they encouraged the demon, applauded my sacrifice even. It didn’t matter to them

that I was some poor soul. The couple smiled broadly in the dim light of the disfigured moon,

hungry for my blood.

In the blink of an eye, the gothic faces were composed once more. They no longer smiled

broadly at the dark happenings in the room or awaited the show of my death. If it weren’t for the

sweltering heat of danger suffocating me, I would’ve forgotten about the creature before me.

I hadn’t.

The floor squealed under the beast’ s weight. It rocked back on its haunches. The terror

closed in on me for what was probably the last time. I stole a glance at the painting in the

brightening light that streamed in from the outside world, the only reminder that a safe world

existed beyond this hell house.

The painting was aged as it should be, cobwebs and all. The creature stood in the only bit

of pure night left in the room, as the rest had given way to the pearly gray haze before dawn. Its

teeth snapped and glinted in the dusty light of the pre-dawn hours. I gripped at the floorboards

beneath me, unable to crawl away any farther.

The wall, with its cracked plaster and peeling wallpaper, was cold and solid behind my

back. Any hope that the wall would swallow me whole fled. Even as I tried to push myself into it,

it shoved back at me, holding me firmly in place, like it too wanted to sacrifice me to the creature.

I was nothing more than an offering, a toy.

The creature’s soulless eyes were clouded by lust. Never had I ever seen something so

starved for blood. My heart seemed to stop. In actuality, it beat faster than it ever had.

Made with FlippingBook Online newsletter