An Unwelcome Surprise

An Unwelcome Surprise By Susanne Leist


Lights sparkle like stars on the walls.

Spots of color guide my journey.

Past closed doors, I walk, my head lowered, my steps slow.

I feel my way along the walls, the lights warm beneath my fingertips.

A cold wind hits the back of my neck.

I turn to the dark corridor before me.

Dark shadows twist into shapes, and an arm beckons to me.

Heart pounding in a tempo matching my chattering teeth, I stand frozen against the wall.

A knob hits me in the back.

My arm reaches behind, and I twist the knob.

I step back into the room.

The door shuts in my face.

I turn around.

Water flows beneath my feet.

An azure sky surrounds me.

I walk forward. The scene fades to black.

A brisk cold wind replaces the warmth.

In the distance walks a woman wearing a yellow raincoat and black rubber boots.

She approaches me with an ax in one hand and a black garbage bag in the other.

I back against the door, jiggling the knob.


She stands before me and smiles.

I lift my eyes to eyes shimmering blood red.

“Would you like to fill this bag for me?”

She raises the empty black bag.

I swallow the lump in my throat and shake my head.

Dots of lights shoot before my eyes.

The room swims.

I shut my eyes and fall to the ground.




The winds have taken their victims.

Tree limbs lie scattered across the grass.

A quiet descends upon the land.

Animals peek from

their hiding places.

Birds chirp in unison,

happy to be free again.

The sun will soon shine.

The clouds will clear.

The darkness will leave.

The earth regenerates itself,

preparing for the new day.




The night is here.

Dark shadows appear.

The full moon spins on its axis.

Creatures settle for sleep.

The wise owl opens yellow eyes in defiance.

Who are the shadows that interfere

with the peace of the night?

Who dare to leave dead bodies

along their nightly path?

Hide ye beyond your closed

doors and shuttered windows.

For THE DEAD own the night.






1 PREY FOR THE DEAD hide.jpg


I walk quickly this night

from those who lurk from sight.

The wind gives a whistle, a sigh,

as the strands of my hair lift high.

The moon hides its face.

I quicken my pace.

Shadows surround me.

Footsteps behind me.

Hands circle my neck.

Is that a love peck?

He takes my blood.

I fall in a red flood.

Will I belong to him?

He watches with a grin.

I’ve become a nightwalker,

a present from my stalker.

PREY FOR THE DEAD by Susanne Leist