My kids are always bugging me to "guest blog".  This is my daughter's eighth grade competition "Little Tale of Horror".  I loved it.  She did a wonderful job and so I promised her I'd put it up.  I hope you enjoy it.  She is amazing to me. 

The park was dark and silent. She pulled her shrug closer around her shoulders and shivered. Somewhere off in the distance a wolf howled, causing her to jump. Swearing softly to herself, she continued to walk briskly through the deserted park. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she barely heard the man’s voice calling out to her.

                “What?!” she asked crossly, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear what you said.”

“I said,” the man answered calmly, “What is a pretty girl like you doing out all alone on a beautiful night like this?”

“Oh,” she felt herself blushing, “I’m just on my way home. I missed the bus and I have to walk. My brother will be here in about an hour, but I don’t feel like waiting,” while she was talking, she pulled gently on her blood red hair. She had dyed it to help attract victims. It was working. She hissed, and lunged, baring her fangs.

Horrified, the man leapt back, and tried to flee for his life, but by then it was too late. She had him by the arm. He began to shriek wildly, trying to free himself from her clutches. She was too quick for him. With one fluid motion, she bit him. The blood that flowed into her mouth was sweet and tasted like gold. She drank greedily, gulping in the precious liquid. She felt his feeble attempts to free himself grow weaker and weaker, until they stopped all together. He was dead, she hissed, and then she hid the body behind some bushes.

She walked on, trying to ignore the hunger in her stomach. A soft voice drew her back from her thoughts. Spiraling around, she bared her fangs, only to find a small child staring at her curiously. Retracting her fangs as quickly as she could, she made her eyes appear welcome and friendly, instead of cold and hungry. She walked closer to the child, her nose picking up on the scent of another potential meal. The child spoke to her, and she nodded, unaware of what he was really saying.

Then, as quick as a flash, the child lunged. In his fist was a small dagger. He ripped the dagger downward, and she stifled a gasp as blood seeped from the open wound. The dagger plunged into her skin again and again, ripping and tearing, but she was an immortal. She would not die…. At least that’s what she thought. The child then brought a small match to her face. The pain she felt when the match neared her face was so immense that it made her actually blister. She fell, a shredded, bloody mess at this little boy’s feet. The last words she ever heard were; “That is for what you have done to my father!” Then her eyes closed forever…

So the child thought.