[TALES OF DREAD] ‘Beatrice’ by Michael Vlastnik
Tales of Dread is an ongoing series dedicated to showcasing the best works of terrifying short fiction from underrepresented and emerging voices within the horror community.
Story Three: Beatrice By Michael Vlastnik
Beatrice awakens late at night to the realization that something has infiltrated her home.
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Beatrice woke up and immediately knew something was wrong. She stared into the darkness for a moment, attempting to focus on the void beyond the open bedroom doorway. Something was out there, she could feel it more than hear it. But she knew something was out there. Her senses told her that. Something that didn’t belong. She took a moment, considering her options. She could just lay her head back down, close her eyes, and go back to sleep. Whatever it was, it was not in the bedroom and maybe it would stay out. Going back to sleep was certainly more appealing than crossing the bare floor, exposed, and dealing with some unknown invader. Monsters from under the bed, shadows sliding in from the windows, taking advantage of the lack of light and rational eyes. Always in the latest hour of night, just before the world realized it had turned the corner on a new day. These were the moments when the monsters came out, when imagination came to life, when Beatrice had to fight back the invading horrors.
It was in these moments that the instinct within her came to life. Primal. Ferocious. She uncoiled herself from the warmth of the blankets, a huntress in the night. Silently, she stretched herself as she stepped from the bed onto the cold, bare wood floor. With nerves wound tightly like spring-loaded steel coils, and an almost giddy reaction to the fear crawling over her skin, Beatrice slowly padded her way toward the open doorway, the portal between safety and unknown dangers. Nothing ever came into the bedroom, never crossed the threshold into the most secure and comfortable part of home. Because she ensured it never happened. When something dared to invade her home, some beast or creature or being of the beyond, she was there to stop it before they were able to worm their way into the walls and nooks and imperfections and eat away at the security of the place. Monsters came. Beatrice beat them, every single time.
She stopped. One foot raised above the ground, mid-step, ears straining for any sign of where this unknown horror might be lurking. She stood on the precipice of the void. Somewhere, a black shape among a backdrop of black space—a couch. To the left of that, an easy chair. Between them stood a massive coffee table—wide and flat, made of sturdy, tan wood, its legs scratched and clawed from a tumultuous past. Nearer the far side of the wall, a lone chair—the last remaining solder from an ill-fated battalion, weathered and beaten but still an important fixture of the—
Something stirred on the other side, to her right, much closer than she had expected. She strained her eyes, her ears, every fiber of her muscles and every ounce of her senses. Far off in the distance, an eerie green glow emanated from the kitchen and with just enough determination and dilation her eyes found the source of light and began to adjust. Skittering, rapid, multiple light and alien footsteps all at once coming toward her. Crouching low, a stance both defensive and primed for attack, heart racing, Beatrice searched direly for the source of the steps. She began to panic and pushed the panic out, her mind went blank with everything but survival—deadly, vicious, savage instincts. A shape came into focus. It darted to the left, to the right, to the left again, and then straight at her. She let out a sound of fury and fear and pounced. Her full weight behind her attack as she collided with the beast, its many legs folding under her body at the impact, she caught a glimpse of eyes, too many eyes, eyes to match the legs. The collision was hard. In the dark, she had miscalculated, and now Beatrice found herself on the far side of the room, frantically searching for the beast’s body. A low sound escaped her, almost a growl, frustration and rage all at once.
Suddenly, the world went bright white. Her eyes flared up in a brief second of blindness, as the living room lights snapped on. She shook her head to clear her vision as she heard her own name spoken in a sleepy voice.
“Bea… what are you doing out here?,” Mandy asked, still half-asleep. Her hair was frizzled, more than usual, and some strands jolted out of her head at odd angles. Disheveled, rubbing her eyes, she came toward Beatrice. Beatrice was distraught to realize that during this sudden interruption she had lost track of her quarry. She began to walk in small circles, searching for any sign of the monstrosity she had been fighting, looking for any indication that she had wounded it or maybe even killed it. There! A leg. One of the creatures’ horrible, multi-jointed legs lay in the middle of the floor. So, she had wounded it… now where had it gone?
Ignorant to this, Mandy had made it across the room to where Beatrice paced in angst and worry, reached down, and lifted her up into her arms.
“Come on, back to bed,” Mandy said softly with a stifled yawn. She stroked the cat’s ears and scratched under her chin as she carried her back into the bedroom, clicking off the living room lamp in the process. Mandy lightly dumped Beatrice on the bed before crawling back into its warmth herself. For a brief moment, Beatrice stared watchfully over her owner, and looked back through the once-again dark and empty bedroom door. After a moment’s reflection on the brief battle, she decided the creature had been sufficiently wounded. It had probably crawled off somewhere to die—never to be seen again, and certainly never to cross the protected threshold into the sleeping chambers. Satisfied with her vigilance, she curled up and fell fast asleep… quite unaware of the thread of silk being spun on the ceiling above her.
Michael Vlastnik is a journalist, podcast host, and aspiring author & poet. He wrote his first novel in 3rd grade about the Loch Ness Monster and has pretty much focused on the wonderful world of horror ever since. His newest podcast Listener Beware will be launching this Fall.
Follow Michael online:
Instagram: @Thevlaz Twitter: @Mikevlaz
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