Abigail

The smell of soil did not reach her nostrils, despite the fact she was surrounded by it. It clogged her throat instead, not allowing her to breath. She didn’t need to breath, though, it was just a reflex. But now this reflex was destroying her, hurting her, and there was no help coming.

Abigail’s parents had tied her up screaming, and buried her alive. Well, not quite alive, but not quite dead. They were religious people and when the local priest told them that he could not exorcise the demon possessing her, they tried to kill her themselves. When all their attempts to kill her failed, they buried her, hoping that she’d be smothered, the demon leaving and their daughter put to peace.

A new strength coursing through her veins, Abigail stopped trying to breath and became to writhe herself out of her chains. Soon enough, her arms were free and she was digging at immense speed out of the ground. Coughing up the soil that had blocked her throat, Abigail inhaled this new world of fantastic scents she had found. Cracking her neck, she stalked over to the kitchen window and peered in silently.

There, peeling potatoes in the sink was her mother, Mary, looking sickly as ever. Abby tilted her head, a sly grin dancing across her features. She tapped on the window gently, loud enough for her mother to look up. The sheer shock that seized Mary caused her to slice her hand open with the knife she had been holding and step back from the side, slipping on the water that had spilled out of the sink to the floor.

Abby’s smile grew as she heard the satisfying slice of her mother’s hand and the crack as her head connected with the stone floor. A new and much more desirable sent entered into the air and Abby shuddered with anticipation as she recognised a much more magnified scent of blood. In an instant she had smashed through the kitchen window, ready to mercilessly destroy anyone and anything with fresh blood pumping through its system.