TMS 30 Day Writing Challenge #1

Choose a song at random and write a short horror story inspired by it.

Fearless Vampire Killers – Maeby


Every night, she danced her way through my dreams, luring me along and stealing away all hope of a peaceful sleep.

We first locked eyes in the town’s ailing dance hall. She had been centre stage, her hair, skin and dress all the same ghostly shade of white, gliding along like a swan on water. I was captivated instantly. She was so enchanting that I found it increasingly difficult to untangle her from my gaze. When her cool crystal eyes found mine from across the room I flinched as if burnt by ice, embarrassed to have been caught prying, although the prime purpose of her being there was to be seen and adored. It was from that moment that I was cursed.

Following that night, whenever my eyelids dared to droop she would appear, cutting me with her icy stare, enticing me to approach her with a curl of her index finger. I’d obey and attempt to reach out to her, but the action was as futile as clinging onto smoke with your bare hands. Whenever I drew nearer, she would pirouette just out of reach, so that only the tips of my fingers had the luxury of grazing the coarse frill of her dress.

With each night that passed and every hour of rest lost to her, I found myself gradually disconnecting with reality. She started manifesting herself in my waking life; I would catch a glimpse of two oceanic orbs peering at me from within the shadows of my bedroom and in the street, I’d see a flicker of white lace disappearing around the corner.

Every ounce of my being ached for her, yet simultaneously recoiled at the thought of her touch. She had the face of an angel but the lure of the devil. In my sleep-deprived stupor, I decided that I had to have her just as desperately as I needed to be rid of her. Every second I spent chasing shadows was another night wasted. I had to act immediately.

On the night that I finally willed myself to return to the dance hall, I had stood watching from the side of the stage as she swirled across the floorboards, casting her spell over the captivated spectators. This time, her movements were less fluent – or perhaps I was only just starting to notice her faults. Her footing was inelegant and messy, but mesmerising nonetheless.

As she neared my end of the stage, I emerged from my hiding place and intercepted her as she twirled blindly into my arms. She was a little startled, but didn’t resist me. Electricity coursed through me as my skin finally became acquainted with hers. She was as delicate as I had imagined, it was as if I was dancing with a spectre.

I took her tiny dove-like hands in mine and allowed our bodies to become entwined as we swayed like reeds in water. The crowd watched on in awe, unaware that my intervention was unscripted and blissfully ignorant to what I was about to do next.

Using one hand, I spun her around so that her back was against my chest and her head nestled under my chin. We both faced the audience but were blind to them, lost in our own rhythmic movements. The dancer was so engrossed that she never even noticed as the dagger that had been concealed within my sleeve slid out and into the palm of my hand. There was an audible gasp as I brought the blade to her throat and drew it neatly across her porcelain skin.

Her blood christened the front row of spectators, there were a few screams but most remained seated. They thought it was part of the act. The girl then turned to face me, her eyes filling with tears. She clutched at her spluttering wound, coughing up more of the vile gore through her mouth. That’s when I took her chin between my thumb and and index finger and reeled her into me, kissing her blood-slicked lips and stealing her last remaining breaths.

Once her body had spilled lifelessly on the ground, the audience erupted in a chorus of applause, many of them giving a standing ovation. In my sleep deprived state, the many faces blurred into one distorted image. Their claps echoed on in the distance as I felt myself drifting away.

I regarded the girl with a hazy eye. She had fallen face down. The temptation to turn her over and view her pretty face one last time was over-whelming. Instead, I brought down a heavy booted foot onto her skull and felt it crunch sickeningly like a beetle beneath the sole. Tiredness overcame me then and willed me to lay down next to her, using the yolk of her skull as a pillow.

The applause gave way to chaos then. The curtain was drawn and I was finally able to succumb to a dreamless sleep.

By Tyler Turner



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