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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/718667-Night-Eyes
by Native
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Thriller/Suspense · #718667
It stalks the prey...
It sits in the darkness, a predator of the night; more deadly than any other, for this one hunts not for food, not for survival, but for the thrill of the kill. Eyes gleam in anticipation as it watches the prey. The heart beats faster, the breathing more shallow, as excitement pulses through its veins. A feral smile tugs at its mouth, a smile of pure malicious delight. It knows it must wait. Now is not the time. Oh, but when the time comes…the thought causes it to shift restlessly. It thinks of the last one, forcing the attention to the past to calm jittery nerves:
She was younger, maybe 17. Her long auburn hair flowed freely down her back, and she had the kind of laugh that brought sunshine to the dreariest day. Everyone thought she would go somewhere. Everyone was wrong. They found her the next day, bloated from the days heat, scratch and bite marks marring her once translucent skin.

Caitlin’s head snapped around at the odd sound, heart stopping for a moment. She knew, realistically, that it was probably nothing more than the wind rustling the shrubbery, or the towering pines knocking against one another. Still, ensconced in the darkness of night, set apart from her closest neighbor by miles of forest, and most importantly, the recent threatening calls and notes, she found that she saw evil lurking everywhere. She surveyed her deck with a practiced eye. Extending off the back of the small cabin, the deck was set high and with a fence like railing. The design was specific to keep the large, predatory animals from having access. She was safe.
What if she wasn’t safe though? The thought flew through her mind before she could squash it. What if the cause of her recent terror was out there watching her? A cold shiver racked her body. The notes had begun three weeks ago. The first one she dismissed as a joke. The second one she saw as a sick joke. The third, the fourth, finally convinced her that the threat was real. She spent hours trying to figure out the source. All the notes spoke of a specific knowledge of her, but then, in a small town like Joseph, OR, everyone had specific knowledge of everyone else. There were no fingerprints, no identifying characteristics or phrases that jogged her memory. There was only that vile stench, the smell of something rotten that permeated the plain white notes. Her peaceful perusal of Wallowa Lake was shattered by the intruding thoughts. With a sigh, she turns and heads into the cabin, making sure the door is locked behind her.

Watching the woman retreat into the darker recesses of the house, the figure curses itself for its carelessness. There was no way she could see through the clinging shrubs and the inky blackness of night. Still, she sensed something was wrong, and all because it shifted. Damn! Now the wait would be longer. Attacking her when she suspected it, held no excitement, no fun. The excitement came from the hunt, the game of picking the right moment, that one time when the guard is finally dropped, to reveal itself. That was when the fun began. Knowing that the prey was fighting back their fear, and asking themselves over, and over again why they weren’t careful, blaming themselves for what was about to befall them.
It was a sport really. A chance to pit mind against mind, something that only other humans could do with any effectiveness. Animals were instinctive, but dumb. They could be booby trapped easily. Humans were less predictable. One may go the same route to work, day after day, after day, and then the day a surprise is planned, on a whim, would take another road. Humans usually were smart, but ignored instincts. This one though was different. She succeeded in life by using her brain, and her instincts. That was why she was chosen. She was the final challenge, the ultimate prize.
Timed ticked by slowly. Seconds, minutes, hours, it did not know. Time wasn’t relevant in terms of the clock. What mattered what at what point she would block the tense thoughts reeling through her mind and begin to relax. It could not see her, could not judge by sight, but it would know. The moment came unexpectedly. It did not question how it knew. Moving swiftly, it makes its way to the front door, and using the tools, lets itself in silently. A few seconds later, it heads down the hall to the prize….
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/718667-Night-Eyes