One Last Smile by Blake Pierce

One Last Smile by Blake Pierce

Author:Blake Pierce [Pierce, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blake Pierce
Published: 2024-07-01T00:00:00+00:00


***

I gasp and moan, “No, no, please, God, no…”

I feel something warm and coppery on my tongue and cry out, sitting bolt upright in the bed. My heart pounds in my chest, and my head turns wildly, looking for any sign of my tormentors.

They’re not there. The bedroom is empty.

Bedroom. I’m in my bedroom. I’m not in the forest. I’m in the Carltons’ house. It was only another nightmare.

I collapse back on the bed and pull my pillow over my face to cover it while I weep. Most of my nightmares do me the courtesy of leaving my memory when I wake, but this one remains vivid. I can still taste the coppery sweetness of Minnie’s blood.

I feel something wet on my chin and lift my hand to it. When I pull it away, a smudge of scarlet remains.

I sit upright again and look at the bloodstain on my pillow. I move my fingers slowly over my lips and wince when I reach a cut on the lower one. I bit my lip while I slept. That’s the blood I’m tasting.

It’s a macabre thought to feel relief that the blood I taste is my own, but the image of Minnie’s bleeding throat is still vivid in my mind, and having something concrete to hold onto that proves that the dream is over is a godsend. I take a deep breath and stand, and when I am on my feet and moving toward the bathroom, I am finally able to shake the terror that follows me upon waking.

I clean myself as best as I can, and when the alcohol sends a sharp sting of pain through my face, I cling to the sensation and allow it to drive the horror of the dream even deeper into my subconscious.

That was the worst one in a while. I had nightmares for years after Annie’s disappearance, but when I finished school and took up teaching, they receded and eventually disappeared. It wasn’t until I took the job at the Ashford estate earlier in the year that they returned.

A thoroughly unpleasant recollection comes to mind of visiting the local doctor in the small town outside of Buffalo where the Ashford estate was located. I went to be treated for a burn on my hand, but while I waited, the doctor there began questioning my mental state. She brought up an alleged hospitalization that I have no recollection of, a three-month stay in a sanitarium that supposedly took place shortly after my sister’s disappearance.

I didn’t believe her at the time, but then the Ashford family psychologist, an equally unpleasant man named Harrow, told me that I had complained to him of my nightmares, a conversation I am quite sure I didn’t have.

And now I’ve bitten my own lip to support a nightmare of vampirism brought on by my own guilt at losing Annie.

I think of Minnie’s accusation that is really my accusation. I’m only doing this to feel better about myself.

Is that true? It’s hideous to think so, but why am I concerning myself with her? I didn’t know her.



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