I'm Thirsty

I was alone. The road was foggy and dark. A single street light flickered in the distance. There was not a building nor car in sight. The murky air cloaked the stars making their light shine dully. A cool breeze brushed itself through my hair. It was dead silent. Confused, I turned every which way, looking for some clue as to why I was there. I had no idea where to go. Then I heard it. A strange scraping sound. Again my eyes search the area, looking trying to place the sound, but I could not locate it. Then I saw him.

The strange silhouette of a man sitting on the road, staring intently at it. I called out to him but he offered no response. I realized it was him making the sound. He dragged his knife across the surface of the road. I called out to him again, this time he reacted. He slowly lifted his head and looked at me. I could not make out his face, it was too dark and he was too far. One more time I called to him. He stood up and started walking toward me, saying nothing. He clenched his knife and like his life depended on it. Suddenly I had a horrible feeling in my gut, so I turned away from him and ran. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me. Yet, every time I looked back, he was closer. Winded, I turned back to face him. He was within arms reach of me now. I tried backing away but I didn't get anywhere.

Finally, I admitted defeat and asked, “What the hell do you want from me?”

His blood shot eyes burrowed into my soul and his yellow teeth smiled at me. His breath was awful, and made me sick. As he smiled, the scar on his face bent at a disturbing angle. His rough voice sounded like sandpaper and rocks, “I'm thirsty...”

Before I could respond he grabbed my hand and used his knife to cut off one of my fingers. He painfully squeezed the blood from my hand into his mouth and let the finger drop. I tried to scream in pain but no sound came from my mouth. Again he cut off a finger and drank the blood from my hand. I begged him to stop, for him to have mercy but no mercy was had. Again and again he did this until I was drenched in sweat, unable to even struggle. Then, to my horror he dropped my hand and started to reach for the other, and I blacked out.

When I woke, I was at home on my own familiar bed, with all my fingers still attached. I took only a moment to catch my breath. Then I got up to go and get breakfast, but the door was locked from the outside. I turned around and saw the man. Sitting on my bed, smiling. I screamed for someone to come to my rescue but no one came. The man uttered only two words, “I'm thirsty... ”