Creative Writing: False Diaries

Decent Essays
Claire set the paper cape across the empty syringe on the tool tray. “All done.” Corbin stood, his tongue making a bump in his cheek as he worried his fang. “Doesn’t catch anymore…how about that”, he murmured. “You are good, Doctor.” He spotted the vase holding Beau’s flowers. “Lily of the valley. Such a lovely, delicate flower. Legends say it sprung up wherever Mary’s tears fell when her son died on the cross. Did you know they’re also poisonous? Even deadly if ingested.” His lips parted, revealing the newly sharpened tips of his fangs. “Are you poisonous, Claire? Will I die if I taste you?” “I prefer Dr. Hasselman.” She slipped her hand into her lab coat pocket, clasping the stake nestled there. He made a small moue then rubbed his hands…show more content…
“Oh, darlin, it’s gonna take at least an hour.” The lights in the office dimmed then returned to full strength. Corbin’s smile faded as he glanced at the ceiling. A piercing scream ripped through the office, followed by another and another. Corbin’s glittering eyes riveted to Claire. “What’s happening?” “Your friends are dying,” she replied, voice expressionless. “How can they—“ “Ultra violet lights. Installed when I started up my practise. I set the timer when you walked into the office. They’ve switched on.” His eyes bulged then he flew to the door, trying to turn the knob. He howled, his left hand holding the wrist of his smoking right hand. “Silver alloy—remember?” Corbin charged the door, his shoulder down like a line backer. The door repulsed him as if he ran into a force field. “Solid white ash…” she said softly. The screams dwindled into one final whimper. He came to her, fangs long and gleaming, eyes flame red, veins standing out on his face and neck. She yanked out her stake, but he swept it out of her hand as if it were a twig. He grabbed her neck and slammed her head against the wall. Black spots rained down before her…show more content…
We’ve unofficially designated the perp as a vampire serial killer—though it’s up to the vamps to investigate. A monster who kills monsters. Kind of ironic when you think about it.” She looked up, her blue eyes black. Gillis cleared his throat. “Alright then.” He turned to leave, but stopped at the door, his hand resting on the knob. “For what it’s worth, Beau was okay as far as vamps go.” The door closed with a soft click behind him. Claire watched him climb into his unmarked car through the window. She turned off the “Open” sign. Locked the door. Shut the blinds. The front office sank into shadow and stillness. Carrying the white teeth cupped in her hands, Claire walked past her dental treatment rooms, past the vase of Lily of the Valley that perfumed the air, past the restroom. Carefully. Reverentially. Like a bride. She stopped at a recessed door at the end of the hall. An electronic lock glowed red in the dark of the door well. She typed in the code--her father’s birthday—and the door swung
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