A darkling drabble offers a shiver of horror in a hundred words…
She picked up the little ghost in the hospital mortuary. It was barely more than a toddler and had been so severely brutalised in life that it couldn’t find any way forward.
When she beckoned, it came, with loneliness furrowing its insubstantial brow.
“There’s room for a small one,” she smiled and it hopped on board quickly as if afraid she might change her mind.
When they touched, the little creature’s loneliness brought her as close to tears as she was able to be.
“Can we find him?”
“I think we can, and you shall watch me drink his blood.”