Unnatural Selection
Pitiless, black holes, encircled within rings of golden fire, peered intently through the double-paned kitchen window of the small, Two-bedroom cottage. The hungry eyes followed every move when Kresha Evans’s glove-donned hands pulled the smoking tray of sausages from the oven and carried it to the cutting board. In the dark, a monstrous mouth opened wide as if on a hinge and issued a small whine. Drool seeped between yellowish-green daggers and hung from the mouth momentarily, before snapping and falling to land on a large, hairy, razor-clawed foot. When Kresha moved away from the counter, the hungry eyes followed her.
In the living room, sitting in a grey lounge-chair, an old man was snoring lightly. The book that was laying face-down on his lap was old and tattered. It appeared to be no less than a century old. Across the front of the book, the word ‘Dracula’ could barely be seen. Kresha gently shook the man awake. He started at first; nearly shaking off the thick, plastic-framed glasses from where they had been resting on the tip of his nose. When he saw her, he relaxed.
“I’ll be bringing your sausages in a few minutes, Mr. Chambers,” Kresha said and pulled the small lever on the side of the chair to bring it upright. “You want anything with them?”
“Oh, just the usual,” Mr. Chambers said. “Thank you, Hun.”
When she returned a minute later, Mr. Chambers had set the ancient copy of Dracula onto a small table next to the chair and was eagerly awaiting his dinner. Kresha sat the tray of food on his lap and returned to the kitchen while he picked up the fork and knife and began to cut and eat the sausages. When Kresha returned a minute later and set the small bottle of brown mustard on the tray, Mr. Chambers grabbed her hand gently.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” he said, his eyes beginning to water up. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”
Kresha smiled at him warmly and gently rubbed the back of his hand with her own.
“I couldn’t just leave you out there on the side of the road, could I?” She said. She pulled her hand away and touched his cheek. He smiled up at her. “I have the extra room and all, you know? Plus, it gets lonely out here all by myself.”
“Well, I’m happy that you came along,” Mr. Chambers said. He took another piece of sausage into his mouth and devoured it hungrily.
Kresha ran her fingers lightly through his recently cleaned, silver hair.
“I’m going to set up the guest room,” she said. She glanced back at him while she walked away and smiled at the look of satisfaction on Mr. Chamber’s face as he chewed another bite of the sausage.
Through the slits between the ivory window-blinds, the gold-ringed eyes narrowed. From within the muscular, hairy chest, a deep growl sent vibrations up to the beast’s throat. It watched the woman walk away. It saw the old man eating. It saw that there were no bars on the window.
Mr. Chambers poked the final piece of sausage with his fork and held it up to his mouth. Suddenly, he let out a deep sigh and his hand fell to his side, sending the fork and sausage to the floor. When the creature outside saw the old man’s head fall sideways and his eyes close, it knew that the time had come. Dinner would never come easier. It reared back on its haunches, dug its claws into the loose soil, and then launched its body through the window.
Kresha heard the shattering of the front-room window and rushed to lean against the bedroom wall. Quietly, she eased herself along the wall until she reached the open door and peered around the doorframe. The creature had drug the old man from the chair after tearing his throat out. As Kresha looked on, the beast opened the old man’s belly with talon-like claws and began to feast on his entrails.
Kresha quietly moved into the living room and stood behind the beast. As she peered down, the creature dug its clawed hand into Mr. Chamber’s belly again, pulled out another healthy portion of entrails and jammed them into its mouth. As it chewed noisily, it began to lose its balance, nearly falling to one side, then the other. It swallowed its last bite of the entrails and let out a long, drawn out howl – then it fainted, its face landing in the opening in the old man’s belly.
It was Kresha’s turn to feast. She jumped onto the creature’s back and sank her long fangs into its neck. It didn’t take long for her to drain all of the blood. She hadn’t eaten in weeks – not since she found Mr. Thompson wandering around on the side of the road.
The wolves never bothered Kresha when she was alone. They seemed to sense what she was and stayed clear of her, even though they would have no problem overpowering her. A human though…a human was just too much temptation for them. That fresh living smell overpowered their senses and made them forget that she was even there. The blood from a wolf would keep her for weeks. When she used to feast upon humans, she would get one, two days worth of blood from them at the most.
The blood was just what she needed. She felt strong again – invigorated. As for the bodies – they made good sausage.
