The Hungry Dark
​By: ​Henry Rohling

Short Fiction

      My eyes shot open, but I wished they'd stayed closed. I wished that I was back home, in my own comfy bed, with him next to me. Get up, Mia, or it’ll get you, just like it got to him. I slid out of bed and began to walk forward, my heart pounding as I walked down the hall of an imitation of my home.
 
      “What are you doing up this late, babe?” came a voice, his voice. I wanted to scream at it, but I knew that I couldn’t, or I would end up like the voice’s original master. I stopped, and attempted to mimic a drowsy yet upbeat tone, like the one I had the first night we stayed in that same room.
 
      “Can’t sleep. Thought I’d go eat some of the leftovers from dinner the other night.”
 
      “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. I had that for lunch today.” Of course you did.
 
      “Then I’ll find something else. I’ll be back in a minute, I promise.” I began walking again, careful not to let my actions mimic what I felt on the inside. All you have to do is get downstairs to the car and get out of here.
 
      “Hey sweetheart?” This time, the voice was closer, not to mention more vibrant. “I was thinking about inviting Harry and Eliza with us for date night tomorrow. Would you be ok with that?”
 
      Aww. But I wanted it to be just you and me,” I said in mock disappointment, trying to hide the quiver in my voice.
 
      “Anything for you, my queen.” It was much closer now. I could feel its breathing down my neck, begging for me to lose its little game, and the way it called me queen. Only he could do that. It was his thing. Calm down, Mia. Don’t let it get to you. I took a deep breath and continued.
 
      “I mean, if you want to invite them, I’d be ok with it.”
 
      “You’re perfect, you know that?” It backed up before continuing, “Well don’t take too long, after all,” the voice hitched slightly, his voice replaced with a deep, unearthly sound, “That’s what killed Frank.”
 
      I continued my pace from before, my heart attempting to break out of my chest. Time for the second phase, Mia. Don’t let it break you.
 
      “Do you wish to learn of his last moments? How he begged for his life?” My vision began to blur slightly as it spoke. “Or what about all the wrongs he had done, pleading for forgiveness?”
 
      I tried to appear brave, with my head held high, but his words were like daggers cutting into my heart.
 
      “What about how your name, along with calls for your help, were the last things to leave him?”
 
      Now the tears were falling freely, my head lowered, but my pace continued.
 
      “What about how I ripped him to pieces through all of it? How much pain he was in as he was butchered? Or of how delicious his bones were as I licked them clean?”
 
      I could just make out the car’s outline in the distance, begging me to run to it and leave this place.
 
      “What about the details of what I’ll do to you?”
 
      I began to run, the thing letting out a loud, guttural howl as I did. I could hear thumping behind me, getting louder and louder as it got closer and closer. The car was right there, no less than a few feet ahead of me. I pulled out my keys and hit a button, the car letting out two high-pitched beeps. I stuck my other hand out, reaching for the handle. I grasped it tightly and yanked the door open; then a large hand with claw-like fingers exploded through my body as I was raised off the ground.
 
      “Not this time, Mia.”
 
      I sprung up in bed and screamed. My breathing was ragged as I placed my hand over my chest and found no claw nor any mark. It’s been years since all that happened. Doctors say I was in a bear attack which claimed Frank’s life, though they never found his body. They also said my mind came up with something less horrifying than a bear mauling Frank, but I knew what I saw, and what I continue to see when night falls. The only thing that didn’t happen in that dream was the fact that I escaped. I’m alive. I’m safe.
 
      “You’ll never escape, Mia, your fear is just so… divinely scrumptious to feed from.”
​      I turned to my left and saw it. The thing sitting next to me. it’s rotting, scarred flesh accompanied by those same, piercing amber eyes, before its visage faded.
 
      ​“Until next time, my queen.”
 
      I sat in silence, then cried as the sun began to rise.

"I wanted to write a horror story where the main character was more relatable to the reader, and I hope that readers would come to understand that the character is more than the typical 'final girl' in a horror movie" --Henry Rohling from STEM School Highlands Ranch