Why do you hardly ever come see me anymore?

Why do you only come at night?

Why do you look so sick all of the time?

Why are Mommy and Daddy afraid of you?

When you go see your special friends will you take me with you this time? I miss you.

These questions my little sister keeps asking me, I'm tired of them. Sick, sick, sick of them.

Sick to death.

I was going to wait. Wait to show her my "special friends," the special places I go during the Day. I was going to wait until she was older. But I cannot any longer. The thought of sharing the dark spirit with such a child, the little girl I love, is repulsive. But seeing those hurtful eyes every time I swoop out of her bedroom window at night, those tears... I cannot stand that more than the thought of bringing her into It.

So I've decided on sooner rather than later.

So tonight I sneak up behind her as she stands on the edge of her elementary school parking lot near the bushes. Oh, it was perfect, I could not have asked her to be standing in a better spot! I silently come up behind her when nobody is looking at her.

I tell her Hello, I tell her she was wonderful at the recital. Then I tell her I'm finally going to show her my friends. At first she's excited, but then I sense her fear as I bring my fangs to her neck.

She screams, but not for long. I feel her grow cold as I steal her heat, as we fly up to the stars.

Oh, you'll grow used to the cold, Delia. You'll get used to it. Now, let's go and see my friends now that you've been dying to meet.

For the 2006 Quest for Fear