The Guest. Paulina Melikhova

      The Guest

      – 

      Let's have sex?

      – he asked it somehow timidly, casually, so that Olya did not even immediately realize what he meant.

      – We? With you? Come on …– Olya agreed only because there was nothing to do anyway. You can't go home, it's too late, and outside the window was pouring down pouring autumn rain.

      Anton made the bed. And with a gesture he showed Ole to the sheet.

      – Make yourself comfortable.

      Olya obediently sat down, throwing off her shoes and starting to take off her socks.

      – And you yourself, why? So are you going to stand dressed?

      – Of course not. I'll just bring us a drink.

      Anton left the room, Olya pulled off her panties, bra and climbed under the covers.

      The covers were warm and damn cozy.

      Suddenly, strange sounds came from the kitchen. Olya at first did not understand what it was, or the sound of a falling object, or whether it was Anton stumbling over something. Checking now was out of hand, she lay naked under the covers.

      She called softly:

      – Antosh? Everything is fine?

      But no one answered.

      Olya again fancied some kind of fuss in the kitchen.

      She carefully wrapped herself in a nearby towel and left the room into the corridor.

      The hallway was dark, and she could barely make out a female figure in the middle of the kitchen. Olya resolutely walked down the corridor, getting closer to the kitchen with every second.

      The woman stood with her back and looked like an ordinary person. Olya called her:

      Who you are?

      The woman turned around and Olya screamed.

      It was not a human. It was some other creature, but the whole horror was that instead of a face she had some kind of bloody mess.