Day 26 – Blood

Had a busy day out of town, so less than 400 words when I need 4,000.   But still plugging away.

The creature was finding it less and less fulfilling being a solitary being and taking more and more chances coming into the open.  No longer content hiding out in caves and deserted cabins in the mountains he was edging closer to civilization.  He had acquired a taste in his exchange with his two attempts at friendship, doomed as they were.  He required contact of some kind.  No matter how small.

And he spent considerable time looking at his notebooks wondering yet again, if anything in the drawings lived.  Were there others like him and if there were, were they loved?


Victor now spent most of his days lying in his bed drifting between waking and sleeping.  At night he wandered the streets certain he was being watched.  The creature had found him at Planpalais — he was obviously following him.  The closed gates of the city provided him no sense of security, they could just as likely shut the monster in as out.  It seemed to him that night would be the time to find him for clearly he would fear the light of day, such as he was.  Every now and then he spotted him, but only for a moment.  He carried one of his father’s heavier walking sticks, prepared for their eventual meeting.


Elizabeth found herself woken from her sleep at 2:00 on a Thursday morning.  It was Therese who shook her and whispered that she was needed in the kitchen.  She got up quickly, the urgency evident.  It was Victor, Therese told her.  She went downstairs where Gerta was sitting with him in the kitchen wiping his face with a cloth.  He had blood on him.

“Victor, what happened?”  Elizabeth asked.

“He won’t say, Miss.”  replied Gerta.  “Harold heard him arrive and put him in here so as not to wake the house.”  She paused and lowered her voice.  “I have found no injury, Miss.”

“I found the brute, but I lost him.  I got him though, got him a few times.” He looked at Elizabeth, momentarily afraid.  “I think it was him.  No. No, I’m sure.  I’m sure it was him.”

No other explanation could be pulled from him.  They cleaned him up as best as they could and put him to bed in hopes that more information would be forthcoming once he had slept.


Author: karensnovemberbook

I am a textile artist, cafe owner and mother of two who has decided I don't have enough to do and so am going to write a novel in a month. Hey, it's easier with a clear deadline, right? Here goes. . .

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