An amusing tale of terror.
Every time Halloween comes around, I plan the most innocuous looking staging to trap some horrid stranger into my chamber.
Hello, my name is Tara. My friends like to call me "Tara-Rizer", because I am a frightfully prolific hunter. I am a diminutive, dark pixie, who sold my soul to the fiery pit's gatekeeper. Each year I am required to feed upon the spirit of a stranger and frighten him into madness, or death. Extra points are given for soul harvesting. Last year I made it to fifth place on the point tally sheet. This year I shall be the winning Pixie of Darkness.
Life is eternal for us dark pixies, so long as we never cross paths with our only enemy...the vampire! It is not difficult identifying the vampire as he is always a gentleman, so pleasant and kind. He needs to be that way in order to seduce his prey. Therefore, we never travel in the same circles. Dark fairies prey on the souls of the lowest form of human existence, thus, we actually do society a favor. Our pixie appearance gives us the innocent look needed to be great bait.
My trap takes place in a well-staged room of a condominium basement in Seattle. The rental of this unit is a small price to pay for the satisfaction I shall receive at the end of the hunt. I love the softness of the creamy raspberry colored carpet on the basement floor. I recently painted the walls a soothing turquoise, reminiscent of a childhood room I had when I was human.
The only object in the room is a child's pony rocker. I staged the prop carefully on the floor so it would appear like I had accidentally fallen while standing on it, as a child might do. All I need is to find my victim, which is easy in a large city. I, appearing as a little girl walking alone at dusk, barefooted, wearing shorts, in the fall, will easily attract the unworthy human to follow me home.
I make eye contact with one of society's classless humans. He is hanging out at the front of a massage parlor in the neighborhood known for its x-rated attractions. His clothing is ugly, dirty and wrinkled. He is a perfect victim.
I can hear his footsteps behind me. I walk faster; he walks faster. Yes, I definitely have my victim. He is following me right toward my condo. I run faster to get inside, purposely leaving the door ajar so he would enter. I hurried down to the basement, and positioned myself on the floor, remaining perfectly still.
He is taking the bait! The excitement is too much to bear. Soon, I would suck the dark soul out of him and get my pixie points. He is coming closer, but not speaking a word. I find that odd, because usually a victim calls out to the "little girl" checking to see if anybody else is around.
Here comes the good part; he is finally kneeling down at my head. He just needs to bend over a little more so I can latch on to his face and steal his soul. I keep my eyes closed so he will continue moving closer toward my face. I wait and wait some more, but he does not move. Finally, when nothing happens, I decide to open my eyes and leap upwards toward him, and finish the business.
As my eyes slowly open, I see those frightening, gleaming fangs. I have come to the end of the road. The vampire has outwitted me at my own game. The last thing I shall ever see is his eerie grin and sharp teeth.
Word count, 624