Stumbling out of the library, he noticed blearily that he was missing a chunk of his hair. It probably had to do with the woman chasing him and the grip she now had around blonde curls. He was bleeding too, a trickle from the top of his head down to his chin.
The marble column was cold under his hand. He grabbed it and tried to clear his vision.
“Get back here!” The woman was hell-bent on getting his attention. He didn’t even know her name. He had been sitting in the library, studying for his finals. One minute he was alone and the next he had the woman’s thighs on either side of his legs, straddling him – and not in the good way.
“You’re blood!” She screamed as she ran by the circulation desk. “I need it for my spell. I already have the hair!”
He looked out over the field in front of the library, students sitting on blankets, some threw around a Frisbee. No one noticed the screaming from the library or the sophomore clutching one hand to the marble column and the other to his head.
The door behind him opened and he tensed. He knew it was the woman.
“I have the salt and your hair; now give me your blood.”
“Is this an episode of Supernatural?” He asked through his daze. The woman replied by pressing a vial to the trail of blood.
When she stepped back he could see the lines of age on her forehead, stray white strands falling from her bun. She smiled toothily. “Your blonde hair for my new form, I thank you.”
Then she disappeared, “poof!” right from the spot. He slid down the column, face falling into his hands and wondered if finals had finally turned him insane.
Written for this week’s FinishThatThought.