The beautiful stranger


There is something notably therapeutic about the rhythmic movement and sounds of a train. Especially if the view is one like I am lucky enough to witness today – pleasing country side scene, green fields, clear blue skies all just whooshing by.

I had almost forgotten about the book in my lap. It is one of those cliche romance novels, which I would rather not name. My best friend is making me read it. I should’ve said no, but I don’t like saying no to people. Such a pushover,I know. I wonder if it’s the effect of the novel, or reality but the girl sitting opposite me is really gorgeous. Long wavy black hair, red blouse that perfectly complements her pale white skin and somehow brings out her hazel eyes. She seems rather lost in her own thoughts.

I almost freeze in panic and look away as I realize she saw me looking at her. I am surprised by the sound of her giggling, like tiny bells. Okay, that was cheesy.

To save myself further embarrassment, I offer her my hand and introduce myself as Richard,to which she politely smiles (damn, she’s beautiful) and shakes my hand and says she’s Ellen.

We spend the next hour of the journey talking about our selves, where we are going, our lives etc. Turns out she is a hematologist. Pretty cool right?  I tell her I’m a photographer and she seems really excited by it.

We had to get down at the same stop. Right before we part our separate ways and I get the chance to ask her out she says ‘I know this seems a little forward, but would like to have coffee with me? My house is not very far from here.’

‘Only if you promise me that you aren’t a serial killer’ I joke.

‘I promise’ she laughs

Her apartment is immaculate with classy furniture. How much do hematologists make? She asks me to make myself comfortable and puts on some loud music. Weird huh. After sometime she brings me some coffee and slowly closes all the blinds as I sit sipping it.

I ask her nervously about why did she draw out the blinds, to which she whispers, ‘I wouldn’t want anyone to see what we do’

My pulse quickens. Is this for real? She slowly comes near me, her eyes almost dark somehow. She takes my face between her hands, her grip is surprisingly strong, and says in the most softest earnest way possible, ‘I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You never asked me if I was a liar.’

Before I can comprehend what she means, a sharp pang hits my neck as something tears my flesh apart, her teeth presumably. I lay there writhing in pain, screaming my heart out, struggling to go free as the beautiful vampire I met on my cursed journey sucks out my life.


Copyright © Sneha P [Rights Reserved]


9 thoughts on “The beautiful stranger

  1. Chandan Sinha says:

    Whaaattt!!! The story was proceeding so elegantly and suddenly boom. Vampire! As soon as I finished reading, I started panting – that was scary!

    It was way different than your usual soothing poems but great though. You certainly caught on the nerve 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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