Red

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Death, Dark themes, Mature, Asian Horror folklore

Author’s Note: The story written here is not intended for all to read. It is very mature in content as it deserves to be told, and there are several reasons why immature eyes should not come upon the content.

I can’t deny of a presence watching me constantly from outside my bedroom window. It chills me to my very bones and I keep hearing voices speaking things to me, but it seems too distant and unclear for me to hear it.

My bedroom is the only room in my flat that faces the tall hideous looking tree, distinctly old and it is especially haunting in the middle of the night. Usually these trivialities don’t affect me, but there is an especially demonic feel to how it looks like near dusk when the sky is red and orange, like a huge looming beast looking in, leering at me through my room. And that presence resides there, on the thick branches of the tree.

There are certain times when I lay on my bed trying to fall asleep but it always leaves me even if I’m so tired. There is a dark figure from the corner of my eye, and I can’t make it go away even if I clench my eyes shut and try to forget everything…

It gets especially threatening when I have my red days, and the thing closes in upon me as though it wants to suck my blood from down there and I’m scared. It isn’t so obvious and ever-present in the day and I get to have some peace of mind, but after the Maghrib prayers resound and it turns to dusk, that thing always come into my room. I can’t see it naturally, but its there, watching over my shoulder, sometimes staring right into my face; and I close my eyes and hope it can go away – but it only continues to smile at me.

No one listens to me when I tell them of this thing haunting me. I can hear its inhuman cackle from outside, especially at midnight, making the hairs on the nape of my neck stand even if I shut my windows as tight as I can. It can come into my room as it pleases and I have no control over it, and my family only scolds me to quieten down when I cry from fear, and I am sobbing and trying to tell them desperately of the problem I face. It never disturbs them, only to me! It’s forcing me to become mad, become crazy from its endless stalking, that’s what I’ve decided to call it, this formless thing which I never see and which makes me shudder in apprehension when I step into my bedroom.

It was hot even in the late evening, and I had to open my closed door and window to let some air in. I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling and hoping the thing wouldn’t jump on me. God knows it had done this before, lying on top of me so heavily until I lose breath and beg for it to let me go.

A sound disturbed me, and I tilted my head, and I gasped seeing myself walking into my room. It was the exact replica as me, and it was grasping the doorknob with slow movements, closing and locking it, leaving me staring in dumb shock at the other figure.

It was around this moment I noticed the other’s feet didn’t touch the ground, and its eyes were dangerously red, and its lips – my lips, smirking at me. But how is this possible? I don’t have a twin… and that exact feeling seemed to consume me each time I felt the presence near, as the other climbed onto my bed and got on top of me, straddling my hips. My eyes widened – what was it doing? This was an intimate position and no one had ever been on top of me like this, ever--

My mouth grew dry, because I felt a weight on me even if the figure was see-through, realising that this must be the thing stalking me, taking on my form. And for what…? It is odd to say why I couldn’t scream, couldn’t react, but looking into those disgustingly red inhuman eyes only served to render me helpless. It was strong and it was pinning me down so forcefully the white of my eyes showed in pain.

I only started screaming when the other’s hands moved down my body, touching me – What was this?! – and tugged down the shorts I was wearing, undressing my lower half. It glared at me as I screamed and my mouth instantly closed, though my breathing was harsh and I was whimpering from fear. How could I not? And I hated those weak sounds coming from me, my head lolling back as though succumbing to my fate, whatever this being wanted to do with me.

It began lowering its head down, spreading my thighs – another weak whimper coming from me, and its disgustingly long tongue began sliding against my womanhood, parting my virginal lips and I gasped, my legs kicking against it, but it was helpless against its ministrations.

What did it want?! I was having one of my red days, didn’t it understand that?! – but it was lapping the red liquid up like it loved it, and just – oh! The sounds it was making was obscene. The act was disgusting and foul and I couldn’t scream, it was drinking my dirty blood from me, the tongue probing at me relentlessly and I struggled under it until I grew tired, my eyes unable to open any longer.

I felt odd and filthy when I woke up. I recalled what it had done to me, and my skin even flushed slightly at the memory of what had transpired. It was disgusting and sinful, and a spiritual being had done it to me, making myself shiver from the thought. Apparently this thing lusted me, but it still didn’t retract from what it always did, watching over me, stalking me and scaring me with its facelessness. It haunted me, and I couldn’t stop it, not even with prayers. They were useless.

My bedroom was devoid of that presence and I was thankful, because I was embarrassed with my own state of undress. Its mouth had been down there, for god’s sake, and it had breached me like nothing else. Had it taken my virginity, then? Even thinking of this question being spoken aloud made me flush even more. And what was it? A vampire of sorts?

The day passed by uneventfully and this nothingness didn’t act as a warning to what was about to come. My red days had stopped unnaturally quickly, and it was odd to realise this since it usually lasted for at least five days, and it had only been two. I found myself on my bed again, looking at the blank ceiling aimlessly and humming along with a song from the radio.

Thickening air, distinct to only when the presence was near – was felt once more, but I felt partly immune to this. So many times I had felt it, yet it didn’t show itself. I sat up and lowered the volume of my radio, flushing slightly because the being had seen me nude down there and I knocked my knees together so as to not feel any embarrassment rise again from the reminder. I had scrubbed myself raw but I could still remember that long tongue and what it had done to me.

It was the last thing I wanted to do, yet it just spilled out from my mouth, questioning words.

“Who are you? Why are you always looking at me?” Surely it understood my language. “Why did you do that to me?” The questions came in a flood, and I was finally able to speak in its presence, able to react like a trigger had been released. “Why don’t you let me see you? Are you a boy or a girl?”

It stayed there for a long while until I gave up on eliciting a response from it. I sighed angrily and got off my bed, just about to get out of my room in a tantrum when it pushed me back forcefully into my room, landing hard, painfully on the floor on my carpet. I scowled up at it and was about to get up – and really! Trust it to do all these stupid meaningless things to me for its own selfish pleasure and I hated it so much! I wanted to run away from this haunted place and go somewhere where it could never find me!

“I hate you!” I screamed at it, and I was feeling that hatred so thickly, quickly swarming upon me and I didn’t care if it wanted to kill me next, and if I died at least I would be free from its constant gaze which I couldn’t see!

I grabbed my bag and was about to fill it with things, clothes – anything, my family out of mind now, they couldn’t help me. They didn’t. Never did… and I hated them for it. I hated everything at this moment including this being who had pushed me to my limit, drove me insane with its relentless stalking and I have had enough, frantic thoughts racing through my mind until I felt my back slammed up against my wardrobe, making me gasp in pain. My grip on the bag had been slack, and I glared angrily up at the empty space.

Even without it being there, from this position I knew I was facing it. How could I help but not be consumed in this anger? “Why don’t you show yourself?” I taunted it, “You hide from me all the time like a coward! I hate you!”

I felt myself slide against my wardrobe down onto the floor and realised the thing had loosened its grip on me. What was it planning--?

The fragrant scent of frangipani was overpowering and it didn’t come from outside – because I knew I had latched it tight. It was choking me and I coughed from the intensity, made my eyes water slightly and I clenched them shut.

I wish I hadn’t opened my eyes and I couldn’t help but to scream again in fear and shock, because a hideous long haired thing was staring at me with dark eyes, its dead pale face mangled with scars and disgustingly congealed blood was trickling down its hideous skin, and the form was vaguely resemblant of a woman. A disgusting entity, no wonder it took on my form several nights before. I shuddered at the memory, and my body tensed in fear. All this, and still that frangipani smell was still there, the flower of cemeteries… I whimpered in the face of this horror and covered my face with my hands.

The white cloth over its body, the cloth used in the time of its death told me of what it was – a pontianak. I never thought the female bloodsucking spirits actually existed, until it came right in front of me, appearing in front of me and its deformed lips were curving up into a grin, its hideous mouth… and that long tongue that had touched me down there! It was disgusting and I couldn’t help but to cry, unable to move because it was holding me there with its own spiritual force and I was helpless to it.

When the fear abated slightly I opened my eyes to look at it. It was still there. Black eyes looking at me like that and I whimpered again, trembling, shaking my head as though to clear it. My chest heaved slightly, shuddering when I looked at it, tears lining my cheeks. “Why?” I asked, sobbing quietly. “Let me go…”

“Because I love you,” the creature said to me in that surprisingly normal feminine voice, and my heart nearly stopped at this admission.

She sounded human – and I suppose it was only right I refer to her as she and not it, and I wiped my tears away and shuddered when I looked at her deformed ugly face again. Deformed with what she had become, she must have been human once. I caught myself thinking this, justifying herself – and she was an evil spirit! A blood sucking monster, and I was thinking about how pitiful she was, and how I felt sorry for her? What was wrong with me?!

“Love…?” I asked her, trying to quell my sniffles because I was face to face with her after all, this spirit stalker of mine. There was a trickle of congealed blood dripping from her eye and I whimpered at the disgusting sight, shivering in her presence because I didn’t know what I could actually do to protect myself.

It was touching me now, stroking my cheek with that disgusting mangled hand and I clenched my eyes shut. It felt like a caress from a cold wind, and I shivered again. I didn’t think I could stop trembling. I wasn’t thinking, my mind blank with fear like a slate wiped clean. What was this? I hated it, hated myself, hated this nameless thing for saying stupid things which I don’t understand at all.

I was starting to be less afraid because she only seemed to want to touch me and nothing else, not to claw her sharp fingernails into me and kill me… which she could, ever so easily. I knew this reality.

Stupid of me to open my eyes because she was getting even closer than before, my heart thudding painfully, staring at me with those depthless dark eyes that dripped blood from the sockets. I cried in fear again, and she just sat on my lap – too heavy, she was crushing me, my thighs about to break and I gasped from the pain. Sudden realisation hit me, she was going to kill me and it was all coming to this, all those months of being afraid and leading to the finality of my death… She never wanted me! She only wanted my body and my soul! Her disgusting serpent mouth lied to me!

Her black claws sank into my navel and blood spurted obscenely, and she leaned over to feast over me with that deformed ugly mouth, and I bled and bled and gasped and nothing else crossed my mind, only this pain. My internal organs were being ripped by this demon, and my tears ran non-stop, my mouth open partly, wheezing for breath fruitlessly. The pain made my blurry vision cloud over even more and I moaned agonisingly for her to let me go. My vocal chords felt like they had been ripped, and she had dug into me and torn my body into half, feeding from me with her tongue slurping at my blood and at my insides.

I gurgled in pain, having bitten down on my own tongue and blood trickling down my mouth. My eyes could only look at her lifelessly as she resurfaced with my blood on her lips, those lips that curved into a smile. My heart was slowing down precariously, body already so weak… Only the faint scent of the frangipani wafted to my barely responding senses and I succumbed to the awaiting darkness.

Footnotes:

A pontianak is a female bloodsucking vampire well-known in Southeast Asia parts, known to have long hair until the waist and wearing a white cloth covering it from its own natural human death. It's usually females who die in childbirth who turn into pontianaks. Their presence is associated with the scent of frangipani, the place where they usually hide in the day.

And I creeped myself out writing this. It's nearly 3 a.m. and I'm writing about things like this... wow. I'm weird.