They call me a freak.

I live in the old church surrounded by crosses and hang garlic cloves from every stained-glass window and revel in the sunshine that pours through the coloured panes.

They call me a freak because I’m not like them.

They’ve stopped visiting now. I never invite them across the threshold. I know they only came seeking answers. I was a science experiment, a mutation. I could have been their future, instead they see me as a threat.

They call me a freak.

The humans still come though, and when they do, I take my feed and savour the sweet taste of blood, just like them.

Copyright Dale Rogerson

Written for Friday Fictioneers hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the photo prompt (above).

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.



94 responses to “FREAK”

  1. Great last line. This reminds me of “I Am Legend.” I’m not into vampires, but that’s a great book. It’s so much better than the horrible, terrible, awful movie. I don’t remember the details, but Richard Matheson breaks down the science of vampires. How they became vampires. Why they’re “allergic” to certain things. It’s set in a cool post-apocalyptic story. Like your story, it takes out the ghoulish horrors and replaces them with scientific horrors.

    Liked by 1 person

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