Your Worst Nightmare
He squirmed and screamed but he wasn't going anywhere. My left arm was securely locked around his upper body. The claws of my left hand had perforated his upper abdomen and were interlocked with his lower ribs. With my right hand, I slowly shredded his skin and flesh.
"Who are you?" he managed between screams.
"I'm literally your worst nightmare," I laughed.
"It's the job. It's not personal."
The scenery around us flickered and shifted but I waited. He continued to scream. He kept trying to escape my death grip, but it wasn't going to happen.
"C'mon," I muttered, lengthening my claws just a bit and digging them in deeper. I jammed my fangs into his neck.
The scenery began to fade. When the tunnel of light appeared, I threw him into it. The tunnel closed to a pinpoint and then winked out of existence and I faded as well.
Shortly after awaking, I called my client.
"It's done. He died gently in his sleep. Wire the fee to my account."
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
Average reader rating 5.00/5
I don't remember you writing horror all that much back in the day so this was a real, well I was going to say treat but that seems inappropriate given the torture. Like some many good works here, it raises questions that can only be answered by sequels and prequels and such: Is he the only one that can do this? What defense is there? What is his personal cost? Always good to see more work from you.
- #3799 Posted 1 year ago
- Published 1 year ago and featured 1 year ago.
- Story viewed 14 times and rated 1 times.
All stories on Ficlatté are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License. What does this mean?