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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1872208-Shadow-of-the-Soul
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1872208
What lurks in the shadows...
Shadow of the Soul


It is strange how the shortest distance seems eternal in the dark when a Killer stalks his prey. The distance between a brightly lit house and the night shrouded gate stretches on forever when the gate needs to be closed after the sun has set and the world settles down to sleep.

In the moonless night the Killer crouches under cover of some bushes, a predator patiently waiting. There is no rush, the slightest noise will warn the hunted and there will be no kill tonight. The wind rustles the leaves and kisses the Killers hair. He waits camouflaged in the shadows, his home. The Killer is a creature of the night, the lord of darkness. He does not run from the setting sun switching on lights and lamps to smother himself in artificial light. He feeds on the darkness and clothes himself in the shadows, the night is his kingdom and he is the Lord of Death.

The door of the brightly lit house opens and a blade of brightness slices the night as the women steps outside. The prey has entered the shadowy world of the Killer. The woman moves slowly her eyes adjusting to the darkness after the light of the kitchen. She glances up looking for a moment for the stars that have been hidden behind a layer of clouds. The darkness is unrelieved, tonight the killer can play to his heart’s content.

The woman moves along the path. She is not afraid, why should she be? This is her home; she is on her way to lock the gate, to lock out the killer that has haunted the town. She is going to lock out the monster that has everyone whispering. The demon that has spirited away so many women, left no trace, vanished with them into the night. Even with the fear and the horror hanging over the town the woman is not afraid. Why should she be afraid with the brightly lit kitchen just behind her, the smell of dinner cooking mingling with the sweet scent of flowers on the cool breeze? How can the killer be so close to home, there is no place for him to hide? The woman knows every inch of the garden and nothing stirs. How can the Killer be here when her husband is here to protect her?

The killer crouches in his hiding place as the women closes and lock the gate. He smiles as he sees her make sure that it is properly locked. She is afraid of the killer after all. The Killer has taken ten women taken in the last two months. The killer knows where they are, he spirited them away into his world of shadow and darkness. He has fed on their terror, he has relished in their plea’s to see the light just once more. He has delighted when the have begged him to kill them just to put them out of their misery. While the rest of the world move in their sunlit world the killer falls asleep to the screams of his prey, lost souls asking to be set free of their torment. They sold their souls to him and now they belong to him for eternity.

The woman pauses at the gate checking the mail box. The killer feels his body tense in sweet anticipation. She will pass within kissing distance of his lair. Desire courses through the Killers body like a current of electricity; desire to magic her away to his world. The world of shadows and where all games are his games and only he wins. The killer pulls out a thin silver cord, as delicate as a lover’s gift. The woman will wear it for him and scream for him so beautifully. He watches her move back towards the light.

The Killer prepares to attack. The woman stumbles and the killer sees a glittering object fly out of her hand and land on the grass. The woman falls to her knees and hunts for the fallen key. The killer knows his time has come. The woman will not notice him now, not until he fastens the necklace around her neck and by then it will be too late. The woman’s soul will belong to him, just like the other ten. Pleasure at the thought of her screams run through him, He is energised, alive. His blood burns and hisses in his ears. The delicate rope in his hand, he stands up and walks towards her where she is crawling around on her hands and knees looking for her lost key.

As the killer approaches the woman looks up. A gasp escapes her as she chokes back a scream and her face becomes a mask of terror.

“Peter you scared me,” the woman’s voice trembles, “I really wish that you would lock the gate at night, you know I hate being alone in the dark with that demon running around.” The killer’s wife is on her knees as the killer stands in front of her. How easy it would be to drop the necklace over her head and choke her to silence. Not too much, just enough to make her easy to move.

The killer reaches down and helps his wife to her feet and bends down and picks up the fallen key and slips it with the silver rope into his pocket. He puts his arm around her. There will be no hunting tonight. He puts his arm around the woman’s waist and smiles down at her. He can feel how her heart still races; he can take her any time he wants, there is no rush. The killer smiles down at his wife.

“Don’t worry my dearest, I will lock the gate tomorrow night,” he kisses the top of her head as she snuggles closer to him, “no one will spirit you away but me.”

Word count 989

The End
© Copyright 2012 Vicky bornman (vickyb77 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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