Story #3

As I hide behind a chair, I watch her try to look for me in disarray. She runs around, tossing every item that she gets her hands on. The noises that she makes as if she is a banshee and the darkness that lingers in this living-room is my source of protection. Simply because it makes her powerless in finding my whereabouts. 1

She craves me and the longer she has to wait, the more hysteria she develops. I continue to stay in my hideaway so that the desire to capture me can implode inside her. It’s my tactic and weaponry in casting her down. 2

For such tiny figure, she emits an hideous sight. Her clothes are dirty with blemishes of blood and her hair looks like the hair the belongs to the goddess; Medusa. I wouldn’t be surprise if she was one of the Gorgon sisters.3

As quickly as her back is turned, I attack. In a subtle yet rapid shift, I come out of my nesting ground. I’m précised in what I‘m about to do. I have to be. This is my one chance for victory against her. With one blow of the hatchet in my hand, I crack her skull open and she slowly slide down to her knees to meet her final destination; the cold, hard wooden floor. 4

“Did I win?”, I ask myself. 5

She proceeds to lay on the floor without movement. But, I want to make sure. I firmly kick her for assurance and just for retaliation. 6

That is when the realization came to me. It’s them against me. It’s humans against these cannibalistic beings. It’s either us or them. I, along with others like me have to fight. Or encounter trouncing death. They’re beseeching us against our will and we have reached our zenith. Enough is enough. Time for the battle to begin.7

I whisper, “Survival of the fetus.” as I look down on this lifeless female creature. I spit the collection of saliva that was in my mouth on her chest and I walk away. 8

When I reach the outside, I now know exactly what to do. 9