Night. Part 1. Anna Fox

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СКАЧАТЬ her fear was definitely justified. She bumped her head against the wall, causing hundreds of nasty annoying bells to ring in her ears. The stranger moved closer and leaned directly into her face. But Francesca still couldn’t see him: he squeezed her throat too tightly with his tenacious fingers so that her eyes were covered with a whitish veil and beads of tears stood out in the corners. She opened her mouth convulsively in a silent scream and pounded her feet on the stone wall and the pavement. He kept looking at her, as if studied. Her fear gradually turned into colossal horror, madness raging in her head.

      But less than fraction of second his nimble hand slipped from her neck, grabbed the girl by the waist, and the stranger pressed burning lips to her carotid artery. Francesca didn’t even have time to make a sound and at first didn’t understand. She began to push him away desperately with her elbows, but then she felt sharp pain and instantly enveloping weakness. He bit her! He bit through her skin… to blood!

      Suddenly, thoughts began to scatter, as discovered traitors, and the strength to swim away with blood flowing from a wound. She distinguished the quiet sounds of sipping among the indomitable noise created by a panicked brain. The stranger drank slowly, and with every drop of life leaving her, her eyes more and more closed.

      Am I dying? … this last horrifying thought came and stood at her right before she lost consciousness. Her body went limp in his arms and her mind helpfully sailed into a deep black abyss.

      * * *

      Francesca woke up early in the morning, before sunrise. From a sudden impulse in the body she suddenly opened her eyes and sat down on the bed. What a horrible dream she had tonight. So frighteningly realistic. She could still feel the thin fingers clutching her throat.

      “Ugh,” Francesca shook her head, trying to banish the thought of the dream. But still on a skin the small shiver has swept.

      Head was spinning, the blood was throbbing in temples. She carefully put her feet on the cold floor, afraid that it would slip out from under her feet.

      Looking around a modest room, she noticed that her things were hanging peacefully on the back of a chair in the corner. And then Francesca realized that she didn’t remember how she got home. She began to think hard, trying to remember last night: she came out of the bookstore, said goodbye to Tammy, and walked down the street toward the house. She walked… walked… walked… That’s all, everything she remembers – nothing.

      Reflections tired her and, in order to relax a little, she began to massage the back of her head with her fingers at the base of the skull. But after this simple action, the hand involuntarily slid across the neck and touched the two small wounds that failed to heal.

      At that moment it seemed to her that she was hit by a pile of books on the head. Eyes widened in surprise and fright. She rushed to the mirror, in a moment throwing back the hair from shoulder. On the other side of the glass the pale seventeen-year-old girl was looking at her, with long golden-dark hair that fell to the middle of her back, and fathomless gray eyes. Glancing her neck, she saw two red dots that brazenly flaunted on her skin under her ear. Hands fell limply, and mouth opened in a silent exclamation.

      The gift of speech didn’t return immediately, only after some time.

      “Nonsense! After all, it can’t be!” she told herself. “It was a dream! Doesn’t it?!”

      Francesca sank down on the bed with frozen face, plunged into a maelstrom of disorderly thoughts.

      Confusion swept her with such persistence that she didn’t notice how the sun rose and beat to her window. It seemed that unless an earthquake or flood occurred, she would never recover. But the earthquake wasn’t needed. Just a monotonous rattling of a phone. And that trill made her turn around. On the nightstand was a black machine, signaling her with a red light, announcing the incoming call.

      Francesca picked up the phone, but she didn’t speak first.

      “Good morning! Wake up, sleeping beauty!” Tammy’s cheerful voice was heard. Francesca was silent.

      “Hey! Can anybody hear me?” receiving no answer, cried the friend.

      Francesca rubbed her temple nervously.

      “Tammy, I need to talk to you…” she only squeezed out of herself.

      “Speak.”

      “Uh…” stretched the girl. Probably not on the phone…”

      “Well, let’s meet after school?”

      Tammy was talking about Francesca’s school, of course. She had finished her studies a year ago and had a work now. For now, in a bookstore, but she always said with burning eyes that someday the whole world will know about her. Tammy dreamed of becoming a dancer. And I must say, she was really amazing at dancing.

      “Okay.”

      “In the park?”

      “Agree.”

      “See you then!”

      “Yes…”

      There was a long pause.

      “Franky, are you all right?” finally asked the friend.

      “Mmm…” Francesca ran her neck with the tips of her trembling fingers. “Yes.”

      “Okay. See you!”

      “Yeah.”

      Francesca put down the phone and twisted her face again. Unbelievable…

      At breakfast she drank two cups of tea, but ate almost nothing. Thinking about what had happened, she paid no attention to anything around her, as if she was present in some other reality.

      What kind of person could bite her first, and then bring her home, undress and put her in bed? At first, bad suspicions arose in her head. A man undresses a girl and puts her in bed… Francesca threw a stern, as if accusing, glance in the bedroom. But for some reason, an inner voice assured her that nothing of the sort had happened.

      It’s also possible that she unconsciously got to the house… took off her clothes… and went to bed… Hmm, not very believable. Maybe she hobbled back to the house, and there the neighbor found her, Mrs. Brown – an old, kindhearted woman living on the floor below – and helped her get into the apartment? Yes! I like this version. I’ll have to ask Mrs. Brown.

      Then her attention finally got to the word “bite” and she was horrified as soon as she realized its meaning. Before eyes immediately began to appear the images of bloodsuckers from old legends and tales, which she never really believed. Well, let’s say he bit her skin. Then, most likely, he could be banal psychopath – this is a more like the truth option version. But he drank the blood… Francesca felt a pang of nausea.

      “Okay, I’d rather think about it as little as possible,” she dismissed her anxiety from herself and went to school.

      In the first two lessons, the girl couldn’t gather her thoughts and concentrate on her studies. Every break Francesca sat in a school cafeteria, which she usually did only after school. But now she was a little worried. It’s not every day you get attacked СКАЧАТЬ