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To Trust a Monster

Blood in the Snow

By Jessica MathewsPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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To Trust a Monster
Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash

I cannot feel the cold or heat, but snow is my favorite thing. It makes the world quiet and calm. Many of our predators are sleeping. People take shelter, and animals rest. I step outside barefoot and walk through the trees. I love the light crunch of snow beneath my steps. I dash to a clearing and begin to sway and dance. I turn on one leg with my arms as momentum.

“Be careful love,” my mother calls quietly.

“Of course, Mother,” I reply as I spin so my skirt whirls around my waist.

I am a Draunt. We are always in danger, hunted and slaughtered by men. We were not built to kill or defend. We are kind ones that only know love. The winter is the only time we can come out. It is rare that humans find us in the frigid forests.

I see a small icy pond and delicately run to it. I lean over to see my reflection. I have sharp, thin features and big, bright eyes surrounded by purple streaks. I tie ribbons in my wavy, white hair using the ice as a mirror. I like to add ribbons onto my dresses as well. Being pretty makes the days better. I imagine that is true for every creature.

Snap.

I crouch low to the ground and spin around in one smooth motion. My eyes scan from tree to tree, and in the ocean of white and brown, I see an inapt figure. I see the shadow coming towards me. I feel fear, but I do not run. I feel calm and curious about this beast.

A man emerges. He is very beautiful. His dark eyes meet mine. I turn to run- our only defense is our speed.

He speaks, “Wait, please.”

I stop, but I am still fearful. He reaches his hand out. I look at his face and see the light of a star. I slowly put my hand in his. We walk as if we are one person, moving one direction. We stop at the pond. He leads me onto it. We slide on the ice together. I lean backwards, my head almost touching my back as the wind finds its way through my hair’s textures. I lift my arms gracefully and slowly rise. I rise straight to his face when he kisses me.

“You’re spectacular,” he whispers by my cheek.

I smile and close my eyes. His voice makes me feel warmth like the sun that I cannot feel physically. I felt life in my body, real life. I grip his muscular back. I finally feel open and complete.

I open my eyes to look at his face again when a sharp, crippling pain tenses my body. Limpness takes over, and I fall to the ground. The stranger does not panic, but smiles brightly, a shiny black dagger clutched in his left hand. He kneels beside me and inhales my scent. Horrified, I cannot move-only watch as he slices a clean cut from my neck down my chest. His face begins to change from beautiful to pure horror. His teeth grow longer, and his hair falls out strand by strand. His muscular body twist and distort into a scrawny, hunched monstrosity. He metamorphoses from a magnificent human to a grotesque horror. My vison began to cloud as I fade out of consciousness. As the clouds began to cover his face, I realized why my elders have been so cautious. As my heart touched his lips, his eyes glazed as he floated into the snow in a hallucinogenic trance after only two bites of my heart.

Horror
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About the Creator

Jessica Mathews

I am originally from Louisiana. I currently live in Oklahoma with my husband and son. I am a senior at the University of Oklahoma. I love grammar and proofreading, and I'd like to pursue that as well as professional writing.

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