#FridayFlash - Thoughts of a Nightmare

Image by Hugoslv

It's 9pm on Saturday night...all over the country, people are out in public, spending time with their friends, and their loved ones, propping up bars or crowding into restaurants, spilling out of cinemas and flocking along rain-slicked streets lit by sputtering neon. Couples stagger along streets, clutching at each other in their mirth as their laughter peppers the November air. Groups of friends swarm from bar to club. Not I. No, the bonhomie and warmth of human companionship is not for one such as I. I lurk in shadows, watching and listening, but mostly I withdraw to the dark, damp places where no one else might go.



Yet this night is different. I smell it on the air, buried among the scents of sweating bodies and cheap fast food. There is a human, yet she is not the same as the others. She stands alone, bemused by those around her, and unable to behave in a similar fashion. She realises she is not alone, not truly, and she comes searching for me. I lead her on a merry dance, for it is not right that one of the light should come to explore the dark. We are both alone, but we are not the same.



She is persistent, and soon my curiosity outweighs my desire to protect this unusual human from the horrors in the shadows. I stand in the open, for the first time in a century, and lean against a bus shelter. I do not stand under the fluorescent street light - no, that is too much of an exposure. I choose a spot in the shadows. She sees my long limbs, and charcoal skin. The darkness hides my face but she holds my yellow gaze all the same. The scent on the air becomes one of fear, and she realises that she has chased a nightmare.



This human, the closest to my kind that I have yet encountered, stands rooted to the spot, and I realise it is time to release her from my thrall. I open a slot between space and time and slip away into a world that she should not see. Not while she is awake, at any rate. Yet even as I take myself deeper, away from the throbbing life of this Saturday night, I know I will see her again. Now that she has seen the dark, she will no longer be satisfied by the light.