You arrived in a flurry of blood red cloak, wielding smouldering knives. I watched as your body came to a stop. You were used to making extravagant entrances. I looked into your blank face, turned and ran through deserts which blistered my soles and left an aching dryness in my throat; through forests so thick the darkness was impenetrable, through cityscapes teeming with blind humanity. I shouted for help, yet no one came.
My journey stopped where it had begun, I knew I could never outrun the inevitable. Home would never be the same once you entered and took up residence. Desperately, I still tried, running through the house, slamming doors in your face, but like a scarcely remembered childhood dream, you walked through every defensive wall I hastily threw up. I stood in the center of my bedroom, my safe haven, and turned around. You were leaning against the doorjamb, your hands slid nonchalantly into deep pockets.
“You thought you could run,” he smirked. I nodded, unsure of whether my voice could ever be found. My heart was beating wildly in my chest; I put a quivering hand over it to steady its beat.
“No one escapes.” It was merely a statement and I watched helplessly as he threw his head back and laughed uproariously. He stopped abruptly, his gaze sought mine and in their brown, muddy pools, things moved and screamed silently.
“Ready or not, here I come,” he whispered and padded towards me.
“Do you realize what will happen?” he asked. I knew that he needed me to vocalize the inevitable; every soul sucking vampire needs their own form of invitation.
I nodded, forcing my vocal cords into the semblance of a voice.
“I know you are going to stay,” my voice sounded as hopeless as I felt.
“Welcome, Pain, my constant companion, I know that your visit will be agonizingly long. I never really had a choice, did I?”
He merely shook his head and took up residence.
Humoring the dark 
Well written piece – scared the crap out of me when I read this. “I shouted for help, yet no one came.”
Oh my shall send the calvary. Appreciate it
As always, you are my biggest supporter- hugs.
The storyline was so colourful and captivating. This is a very well written story, i really enjoyed reading it to the very end.
Thanks, Harry, certainly means a lot to me…
I’d forgotten how much I love your writing. It reminds me of Poe and Lovecraft and you. Like Linze said, it scared me, and I love a good scare (said as I check over my shoulder…”
I made you look over your shoulder, booyah! Glad you liked it!
Wow…this was so vivid, I could feel my voice leaving me too. Reminded me of those dreams where I try to run but my feet won’t move.
That was exactly the feeling I was going for, Christine. Where you slam the door and the bad man simply walks through it- we all have them.
Indeed the imagery here is phenomenal! You had me at “smouldering knives,” before I even knew what they were. The hand-in-pockets lean against the doorjamb is chilling, especially once we know who’s doing it. I hate that you know him well enough to write with this degree of vivid familiarity. I have one question, which I’ll private message you about. Nicely done.
Thanks a million, means a lot to me.
I have to agree about the imagery. Wow. Seriously powerful stuff.
Thanks so much, Debbie, really appreciated
Gad – I’m loving the imagery in this, even as I’m shuddering in empathy. Powerful, vivid, heart-squeezing stuff, this. Loved the “smouldering knives” and I loved the inevitability, the agony the reader knows is coming and cannot avoid. Wonderfully written, suspenseful. Please tell me there’s more to this??
Thinking of expanding it into a novella called Mr. Pain, stealing a little from Stephen King aka Mr. Mercedes. Thanks so much for the wonderful comment!