The Spirit

"You can run from pirates," it said to me, the blood and spit churning in it's mouth. It's tongue lolled around, slipping between teeth and licking those razor sharp fangs. It continued, "You can run from bears, lions, and beasts." It paused, staring at me with rigid frozen eyes that never blinked. I held onto a nearby lamppost to steady myself. Putting both arms against the garbage can and leaning closer, the spirit laughed, "Run from anything you want. But you can't run from me." Its voice dropped to a whisper, and thick blood began dripping from the corners of its mouth. I held my breath for whatever would come next. "I've been hot on your trail, behind every tree you've seen. I follow you wherever you go, and you see me when you least expect it." I took a few steps back, with hopes to get away from this possessed creature. But it took steps forward, and began to pursue me. "Today is the day!" it cackled. "You can never run from me!" and with that, it began to chase me, gliding along the stained alleyway. "Run!" It shrieked, "Run all you want. No messiah or king or godmother is coming to save you!" It's scream pierced through the cold air of the night.

I ran, fast as I could. I couldn't feel my legs, and my beating heart drowned out all other sounds except the shriveling screeches of the spirit, gaining on me by the second. A quick glance behind me told me I was doomed. It aroused from behind, rising countless feet above me, and made the dive. I fled, the tips of my toes now barely touching the ground, wind gushing against me. But it was too late. Unpredictably, I felt sucked in, the power of the spirit undefeatable. It enclosed around me, I felt a sharp stab of pain beside my collarbone, and fell unconscious.

My eyes slowly blinked open. Where was I? Faint memories of the spirit had left me slightly dazed but terribly shaken. Had it all been a dream? As relief washed over me, the memories began to fade, and my sight adjusted to the lighting, I caught a shadow looming over me. Rolling onto my back to take a look, the spirit startled me with its face to face appearance. It's blood spattered white robe hung in shreds and it leaned over to me. My mind froze, and my mouth was paralyzed. Whatever I was about to say was quickly thrown out the window as it began to speak. "I told you, nobody can ever run from me." Blood oozed between its jagged teeth and dripped onto my shirt. I could feel as the warm liquid soaked through and touched my skin. "I got you. To think I wouldn't be able to? Oh, that is so stupid of you. Those bite marks..." It nodded to my collarbone, and I lifted a weak hand to touch the puncture marks. "You will not last very long." My hand came out bloody. Bloody with my blood.

"It's bleeding now but it appears you have gotten used to it. You don't seem to be feeling any pain."

I regained some of my senses, enough to ask, "What are you, anyway?" Though the question came out croaky, and not as strong as I had estimated, it felt comforting to hear my own voice. It leaned closer, so close I could smell the rotting blood of the once alive humans inside of it, and the stench of decaying flesh. The spirit licked its lips as blood leaked from its mouth. My heart beat faster and faster as the tension in the air grew and grew. "So happens I have not yet chose the one for breakfast yet." the spirit said. It was now almost lying on me, floating just inches parallel to my body. "This will be a messy job," it said, "but I think you can stand it." and, without warning, it dove right into my living body.