Author: Kristen Wallen PM
Seth Green, a little boy, ignores the call of his mother to come inside. When she finally leaves him outside he spots a man across the street. A stranger. The old man presses him to come over to him until he finally does. Seth is in deep trouble now......Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Horror/Tragedy - Words: 1,102 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 2 - Published: 02-01-09 - Status: Complete - id: 2629944
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"Seth, it's time for you to come inside, Honey," Mrs. Green called out to her son from the porch of their house. The young blue-eyed boy merely glanced at her upon mumbling "Not yet. Two more minutes". Mrs. Green grimaced. To Seth, two more minutes meant two more hours. "You get your butt in this house this instant, Sethaniel Anderson Green!" she said, her voice so low it was menacing. Seth ignored her until she got frustrated and stomped back into the house. Just as he was about to get up, something eerie caught his eyes. He looked across the street and spotted an elderly man who had cold gray eyes, a long white beard, and a lanky figure. He would have ignored him and went inside but he saw that the old man was smiling at him, revealing a set of yellow crooked teeth. There was something about this particle man that made Seth not be able to stop staring at him. Was it his skeleton-like face? The devilish grin splitting his face? Seth didn't know. Whatever the reason was, he just had to smile back, putting up a tentative hand in the air to wave.
"Hi," Seth said, gulping loudly. The elderly man's smile grew until it was half-way across his face, the thin skin around his cheekbones seeming to tighten as he did so. "Hello, Young man. How are you?" the man said in a small, cracked voice. Seth could only blink, for he was nervous. "It's alright, Young man. There's no need to be afraid. Could you come here for a minute?"
Seth's throat tightened, a knot tightening in his small stomach. "O-okay," he stuttered, his breath coming out hard now. He moved a little closer to the road that was separating him from the old man. "That's it. Now a little closer, my son. There's no need to worry. I won't hurt you," The man cooed, the ends of his lips curling up towards his eyes.
"You promise?" Seth regarded him strangely.
The old man laughed briefly, a sound like scratch paper. "Of course, young one. Now just a little closer…"
Seth stepped a few more steps closer to the road and soon he was standing beside the old man. "Take my hand, Young man. There's something I need to show you," the man said hoarsely, the tone of his voice no longer friendly but cruel. Before Seth could react he had grabbed his hand and began tugging him into the dark alley behind them. "No! Stop!" the little boy cried out in panic, looking at his house. Unfortunately, his mother was still inside, oblivious to the fact that her precious son was about to be taken away. The old man looked down at him, his eyes turning black and empty. Seth noticed the change and began kicking and screaming. "Let me go! I want my mommy!" he cried, desperately trying to get away.
"Shut up!" The man growled. Poor Seth continued to scream and kick, regretting that he had ever seen the old man. "You're mine now!" was the last thing Seth heard before he was knocked out with a metal shovel.
Three hours later…
Seth woke up in a dark room that had a fireplace and very little furniture. He didn't know where he was and he didn't remember why he was there. It all seemed like such a blur. Poor Seth rubbed the side of his head where a trail of blood was spurting and where a huge, nasty cut lied. Confused, his head throbbing, he peered around the musty room.
"Looking for me?" he heard someone purr from behind him. Startled, he whipped around, his hair sticking up. Seth couldn't remember who or…what the man was. The man standing before him revealed to him a set of sharp, yellow teeth, had pale white skin, cold gray eyes, and black wings that had green veins all over them. He gasped.
"Ah, yes, I presume you don't remember a thing, yes?" the man inquired, his eyebrow raised. "W-what are you?" Seth stuttered, his mouth opened in horror. He'd never met anything like him. He had only glanced at people that resembled him in magazines or books. "I am Vladimir III," the man replied, his voice a soft purr. "And…lets just say I'm not from here exactly…" his voice trailed off as he gazed upon the boy with a hungry, sadistic look in his eyes.
"Where am I?" Seth asked, his voice cracking. He wanted his mother and he was scared of the creature—if not human—standing before him. Vladimir ignored his question. "I'm thirsty. Do you wish to be my eternal slave?" he said, glaring at the little boy on the floor. Seth could only stare at him, eyes wide, not knowing what he was talking about. "I asked you a question". Vladimir gritted his teeth, his face gleaming in the light of the fireplace. Seth shook his head. "Sorry, but I have to go home. Have you seen my mother?"
Vladimir's eyes darkened. "You mean the old prune that I saw on the front porch?" he said. Seth gulped. "Y-yes". Vladimir scowled. "She won't be able to save you, Seth. No one will be able to". Seth's blue eyes grew plate-sized. "I just want to go home. I won't tell any I promise," he promised, his eyes watering. Vladimir threw his head back and laughed, a sound like deep bass. "Yes, I'm sure…and I'm the king of Ireland," he said sarcastically. Seth, not understanding, allowed his mouth to pop open in shock. "Really?" he blurted out. Vladimir glared at him. "Shut up, you poor excuse for a human being!"
"What's a human…beaning?" Seth asked, looking up at him, confused.
"It's called a human being, you brat!!!!"
Vladimir couldn't stand him anymore. He just wanted to do what he had to do and get over it. "Seth, I'm truly sorry but…your time is up!" Seth didn't have time to answer, for a sharp pain entered the back of his head, followed by a powerful blow to the stomach. Soon, the little boy laid facedown unmoving and quiet in a puddle of his own blood.
Vladimir seized his lifeless body from the ground and dragged him in a dark room, a room and place where he'd never be seen again: the boiler room.