Posted in Stories and Poems

Horror Flash Fiction #4

This is my attempt at The Horror Flash Fiction Contest hosted by Lucy@Lucy’s Works. The prompt is:

“Isn’t this…. Romantic?”

“You’re a psychopath.”

Here is my piece, hope you like it.

She took a deap breath and opened her eyes. She looked him right in the eye and said, “I can’t do this anymore. I want to break up with you.”

“Break up with me? But it’s Valentine’s Day and I brought you a gift,” he said, looking hurt.

“You did?” she asked unbelievingly.

“Yeah, I did. Of course I did, dear. Not like you, you don’t even care about me. I bought you something red as it’s Valentine’s Day.”

He put a bottle at the center of the table. It did contain a red liquid. She picked it up curiously and examined the contents. Suddenly, the curiousness in her eyes vanished, to be replaced by horror.

“Wh-what is this?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“Blood,” he said, smiling evilly. “And you have to drink it.”

“D-drink it? Are you mad? I can’t drink blood,” she said, terrified and threw the bottle at his face. But he just catched it with one hand and frowned.

When he spoke again, his voice was threatening. “You will drink it. Or I’ll bite you. You can’t run away from me, dear.” He smiled again, showing his sharp, white teeth.

Bite me?”

“Yes, bite you,” he hissed. “And if I do that, you will become a vampire, like me.” He removed the lid and shoved the bottle into her hand. “Drink it.” 

“You’re a vampire?” she whispered, scared.                                                     

“Yes,” he snarled. “And if you don’t wanna be one too, you’ll drink this.”

She looked down at the bottle in her shaking hand with disgust. Drink blood! She can’t do that.

“Make a choice or I’ll kill you, which would be even worse,” he growled.

She used her other hand to steady her shaking one. She heard him chuckle. “Why are you doing this to me?” she asked sadly. “I thought you loved me. You said this meeting was supposed to be romantic.”

“I do love you, honey. Isn’t this…. Romantic?” he asked smirking.

“You’re a psychopath,” she said quietly, sniffling as she shut her eyes, and raised the bottle to her trembling lips.



Welcome to my site where I talk about all things bookish and from time to time, put my writing skills to test.

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