All Things Lost
Dusk in a bustling metropolis. It could be any big city in any number of countries. A young girl in a white sundress is wandering down a busy street with a wide-eyed, searching expression that is synonymous to LOST. It seems that she will be okay however; there are various shops on this thoroughfare that regularly help misguided tourists and such.
But she makes the mistake of turning down an alleyway that is dark, albeit not deserted. There is a dingy pub at the end, although the likes of her would not be welcomed there. Before venturing too far into the alley, she realizes her mistake and turns around.
Hurrying back the way she came with a clatter of heels that gives her away all too well, it appears she has almost made it. Somebody has noticed her however, and as she reaches the friendly corner he emerges from the shadows and blocks her path. A risky character this one, with a mean look and grime on his skin that suggests bathing is something he prefers to do without. His leering smile reveals numerous teeth missing from quarrels and more unpleasant affairs.
In a simpering voice he asks what a pretty young thing like her is doing alone in these parts. Doesn't she know what danger she is putting herself in? She proceeds to tell him of her plight, and asks if he can be of any assistance. Of course he can; in fact, he will bring her to his apartment, where she can use his phone. The two walk out of the alley into the dark street. His gritty arm slips around her slim waist. The girl looks uncomfortable but says nothing.
After wandering for about thirty minutes in what seems an aimless pattern, she is starting to get apprehensive. They pass a pay phone, could she not call from there? It is completely dark by now; the single old street lamp does little to illuminate the dark corners. Ah, here it is, just down this pitch-black street is the entrance to his apartment. The girl asks the man if he is sure. Oh, he is quite sure, just around the corner.
He lets her go ahead, ladies first. She turns the corner hesitantly, and he pins her against the slimy brick wall. What is he doing? Fear and the pain of something sharp digging into her back cause her to scream, but it is too late. His eyes have lost their benevolent look and her dress is torn.
Didn't her mommy and daddy teach her never to talk to strangers?
But they died centuries ago.
What? The ugly man backs off confused. Why is she smiling like that? Now he is the one scared.
Then he sees the teeth. They have grown about two inches and look razor sharp. Yet it is the eyes that convince him there is a hell and he is headed straight for it. No longer are her eyes like the pretty blue sky. Black they are, darker even than this street, not a fleck of white to seen, and no reflection.
For him, there is no time to scream. Her teeth enter his neck. A burning pain is consuming his body. His veins are on fire, surely there can be nothing worse. Oh let it stop. And then it does, and he is dead.
She leaves the old man's body to rot with the roaches and the rats, he deserves no better.
The tinkle of laughter fills the empty street, and one person peeking through their curtains sees a beautiful sight. A young girl, dressed in a white sundress in the middle of the night, cheeks flushed with blood, prances down the sidewalk with a clatter of heels, turns the corner and disappears.