The Blood Seeker

The Blood Seeker

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This is a recount of all that I am able to remember before my time runs out. If anything should happen to me, I hope that at least, this would offer some help in explaining what had transpired.

It started on a Wednesday, I remember the night fell with signs of a thunderstorm and the wind was howling while the trees danced and the air was cold as a stale puddle. Yet, as I looked out the window after 4 hours in the library writing my assignments, not a single drop had fallen. It was almost 1 a.m. and so I decided to pack up and leave before it did. I exit the library and headed into the hallway towards the stairs that would lead me 3 floors down and out of the university. I lived in the apartment right across the road, and the brief exercise would work up the heat I need to braze the chilling weather outside.

It was when I was halfway across the hallway that I saw, the girl in the red shirt, with pitch black hair that ran down almost to her waist, as she hurried out from one of the doors into the hallway, carrying her books she rushed towards the stairs. In her haste, I noticed she unknowingly dropped a white ribbon, and after I had picked it up I chased after her in hopes of returning it. But when I reached the staircase, I could neither see her nor hear her footsteps. I turned back to the room she exited from to see if she had friends that could return it to her instead, just to discover that the room was vacant.  I continued to make my way back home, fiddling the white ribbon between my fingers. The moment I stepped out on to the road, the rain poured down heavily.

I had completely forgotten of my encounter with the girl in the red shirt, and bringing home the white ribbon on the next day. I do recall waking up to soreness on multiple sites of my face, and later that day having several people point out the unusual paleness of my complexion, to which I casually disregarded by attributing it to the piling amount of work and lack of sleep. In fact, it was one of the very rare times I had such a statement made about my façade. After 3 days, the remark had become a normal greeting, and the intensity of the sores had increased so much that they felt like bruises. Each day I was more tired and lethargic than the day before. I could barely climb out of bed, or find the strength to even stand.

Each day I was more tired and lethargic than the day before. I could barely climb out of bed, or find the strength to even stand.

Eventually I sought medical assistance, but they could find nothing wrong with my physiology. My face was decolourised and I was evidently exhausted, but there were no bruises on my face despite the constant pain I feel, and there was no anaemia. Regardless, I was advised to rest at home, and that’s when it all began.

Even after the first day of resting I felt worse than before. I decided I would try to get some simple house work done with what strength I had, and so I headed to tidy up my desk. As I rummage through my desk, I came across a red ribbon, lying beneath some paper notes. Upon closer inspection, I realised it was the same ribbon belonging to the girl in the red shirt. At that very moment I heard a brief but quick shuffling of footsteps, leading from my room and into the living room. Slowly I followed the supposed direction of the sound, but I found no one there in the living room. Instead, in front of the ground before me I found the red ribbon, lying there before my feet.

The next day I found the red ribbon suspended in my container I used for drinking water, together with it were some flies and cockroaches, and an assortment of other common small insects, drowned and floated on the surface. I decided to lock the red ribbon in a lock box by my bedside. That night as I was falling asleep, for a moment I could hear a deep breathing in my room, the sound was resonating as if it was trapped in some place, and it paced faster and faster. As I was pondering whether to trace it to the source the breaths had ceased. The next morning, I found the red ribbon lying beside me, and the box was still sitting locked in its place.

Yesterday I asked to stay over for a night in a friend’s house after I threw the red ribbon out of the window of my room on the 16th floor. Taking one look at me he of course could not turn me away, I was essentially a red eyed white zombie with eye bags. I of course did not disclose the true reason in fear that he might worry that I was losing my mind and my health.

That night, I dreamt of the girl in the red shirt. She was standing over my friend while he was asleep in bed, and she raised her hands and half clenched her fists and her nails broke and blood poured out from them. Her wrists broke open and long leech-like things slithered out from there and they flayed violently towards him. I was awoken from my sleep by some faint screeching noises, and I opened my eyes to find a figure making its way halfway up the wall across my bed. It was her. One hand after the other she clawed her way up the wall while with her legs aided her ascent to the ceiling. Her long black hair fell backwards as she crawled across the ceiling. With each movement her nails softly scratched the surface, until she was directly above me. In the place where her face should be, fresh and shimmering bright red, there was a disfigured and violated remain. I watched as she continued moving down the other side of the wall until head was above mine. A slit opened from the center from one end to the other, and revealed 2 rows of curved yellow fangs, drips of blood came gently down, and the stench of decay filled my every breath, as she moved closer and closer to my face.

…I opened my eyes to find a figure making its way halfway up the wall across my bed.

I have no memory of what had happened after. This morning, the ribbon had once again appeared beside me in bed, my friend appeared to be unharmed and I immediately moved back to my home.

Tonight, I exhaust all strength and vitality I have left in me to write this. My mind is unable to give in to my urgent need of sleep after what I’ve witnessed. As I write I listen closely to the tender scraping inching closer towards me…

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Crow (BM113)

Scholar. Gentleman. Handsome. Also a bird.

 



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