1 comment

Fiction Fantasy Horror

The tea has always worked before. And nothing has changed. I measured the required aromatic ingredients, ran the hot water through it for precisely three minutes, stirred in the dollop of honey, and served it immediately, placing the steaming brew under her nose until her eyes flew open.

Normally, it’s all that is required. Her hands would begin to quake. Then her shoulders would noticeably stiffen, and she would grasp the cup. A small sip, and she’d smile up at me, a dark crumble of blood dislodging from her lip. From there, everything would go smoothly.

But today she did not stir. The hot vapors wafting under her nose had no effect. Did I measure it wrong? Was my timing off? I had no choice but to start over.

I took the beverage back into the kitchen, sat it on the counter and scrambled in the cabinet for the canister. Where had it gotten to? Now I couldn’t find the damn mixture. Hadn’t I just used it?

I peered over both counters, carefully moving aside the sugar, the honey vat, the coffee can, the clotted cream and the butter jar. Nothing behind the mint box, and the spice bottles all sat lined up on the shelf above the cryonic composter as they should be.

I sighed, about to give it up, and looked to where I had put the cooling beverage cup. Now it had disappeared!

Things had begun to go wrong again. It had happened hardly a week ago. What I can only describe as the state of my being had begun to shift inexplicably, and subtle changes shook my state of perception. It became hard to predict what would occur from one moment to the next.

I would need another session with the discriminator. It always brings stability—for awhile, at least. An unpredictable while. But some amount of stability is all that can be had these days. I prayed the discriminator would be in the front closet where I had last encountered it.

And it was. I punched in the code and undid the latch, swung open the transparent bubble top and clambered in.

I don’t know how long the session lasted this time, but everything appeared muted, like twilight when I emerged. I felt a bit dizzy, but that didn’t last. I flipped on the light when entering the kitchen.

The tea canister sat where it should, in the cabinet on the bottom shelf. I breathed again in a relaxed manner and began to make the tea. The precise amount at the correct temperature for just the exact brew time.

When I brought the steaming beverage into the bedroom, she surprised me by lifting her head from the pillow and rising on an elbow.

“Who are you?”

“I’ve brought your tea, my love. Please drink it.” I held the cup close to her nose for her to smell, and possibly awaken a familiar sense.

She took a whiff and smiled. “Oh, I remember you now. You’re my keeper, and you always bring an elixir, thinking to bind me to you and this world. But this time you’re too late.”

And she was correct. I had been fooling around too long in the phase-shift and the discriminator, and now would have to take corrective measures. I backed slowly out the door and closed it behind me. Then I threw the dead bolt to slow her down and give me some time while I attempted to come up with some way to make her cooperate.

The first alternative that came to me called for going back to the discriminator to attempt a do-over. But that would be chancy. It could turn out to be even worse the next time around. She could already have freed herself, or worse yet, not have been there in the bedroom at all today. Who knows how I’d be able to salvage anything from that!

I finally decided I would have to use the alteration drug directly on her. A tea wouldn’t work any longer, since she has caught on to what is happening. It will have to be an injection, given to her on the sly. Fortunately, injectors are everywhere what with the pandemics, and the Alt medicine on hand should do nicely. I’ll sneak it in on the pretext of bringing her a meal on a tray. She should be terribly hungry by now, and will let me serve her a tray of fruits and other eatables. I’ll secure the injector out of sight under the tray.

Back in the kitchen, I located the necessary items and made the preparations. I used the same drops I used for the tea. A very small amount, five CCs, should do nicely. It would be quick. So quick she wouldn’t know it had happened. Then life could get back to normal, the way it should be.

The fruits and sweet rolls arranged pleasantly with an eye to shape and color, then the injector taped underneath the tray so as not to be dropped inadvertently, I made my way carefully back to the bedroom, holding the tray low with both hands.

Upon reaching the room, I unbolted the door slowly to keep from startling her. I peeked in to find her lying back on the bed.

“I brought you something to eat, my love. You must be terribly hungry by now!”

She turned her head to look, then struggled to sit up, her arms shaking as she propped herself. A smile curled her lips. “Yes, I could do with a bite.”

I moved close and made to put the tray in her lap as I deftly retrieved the small injector. Her eyes darted over what I had prepared, and she selected a purple plum while I reached behind her, pretending to adjust a pillow.

Then she abruptly twisted, throwing the tray to the floor and wrapped her arms around my neck. I lost my grip on the injector, which flew into the air and clattered against something. I jerked back, trying to break loose as she opened her mouth wide and sank her fangs into the side of my neck.


January 08, 2022 22:34

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

1 comment

Dinendra AV
04:52 Jan 20, 2022

The story has hit the brief and it is very good especially the last 2 lines👏👏👏... But still got to do a bit of clarification on some of the loose ends you got there.

Reply

Show 0 replies
RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.