The Night Nurse’s Secret

I dropped the plastic clipboard, scattering papers as I reached for Grandma May’s unnervingly lucid arm. Her eyes, usually clouded, fixed on me with an intensity I hadn’t seen in months. ‘She’s been coming at night,’ Grandma whispered, her voice surprisingly strong. The faint, sweet scent of antiseptic stung my nose, making my eyes water.

Just then, a new aide I’d never seen burst through the door, her smile wide and artificial. ‘Everything alright here, dear?’ she chirped, snatching scattered forms before I could bend down. Her hand was firm as she guided Grandma’s gaze away. ‘No need to bother yourself, Mrs. Miller, it’s just morning rounds.’

A cold dread settled in my stomach. ‘She just said someone new is here at night,’ I stated, watching the aide’s eyes flicker, almost imperceptibly. The humming fluorescent lights overhead made her face seem stark. ‘Grandma May sometimes gets confused, bless her heart,’ she replied, her tone hardening. ‘It’s just medication changes.’

But Grandma May suddenly squeezed my hand, her grip tight. ‘The other one,’ she rasped, pulling her arm away from the aide’s light touch. Her trembling finger pointed to a small, shiny object tucked under her pillow. ‘She left it.’

And then I noticed a faint, dark smudge on Grandma May’s inner elbow, barely covered.

👇 Full story continued in the comments…I ignored the aide, my focus locked on Grandma May. “What is it, Grandma?” I asked, trying to sound calm despite the frantic pounding in my chest. The aide, however, was moving with a speed that seemed unnatural, her hand clamping down on my arm. “Now, now, let’s not upset Mrs. Miller. She needs her rest.”

“Let go of me,” I snapped, trying to pull free. The grip was surprisingly strong, almost bruising. I saw a flash of something in the aide’s eyes – not friendliness, not concern, but something cold and utterly devoid of empathy.

Ignoring the pain in my arm, I lunged for the pillow. The aide tried to stop me, but I was quicker. My fingers brushed against the smooth, cool surface of the object. It was a small, silver pendant, shaped like a crescent moon. It felt heavy, almost leaden.

As I pulled the pendant out, a glint of something else caught my eye – the dark smudge on Grandma May’s arm. It was more than just a smudge; it was a small, almost perfectly circular puncture wound, and around it, the skin was slightly discolored. I recognized it instantly, from documentaries. A vampire bite.

The aide’s face contorted into a mask of fury. “Give that back!” she hissed, her voice losing all pretense of sweetness. She lunged, nails extended, and I barely dodged. The pendant clattered to the floor.

Suddenly, Grandma May let out a piercing scream, followed by a series of gurgling gasps. I turned back to her, and saw her eyes roll back. She was pale as a sheet. I looked at her inner elbow again, and saw a new, fresh puncture wound.

Ignoring the aide, who was now snarling, I scooped up the pendant. As my fingers wrapped around it, a wave of cold, familiar terror washed over me. The silver was cool against my skin. I raised the pendant and shoved it into the aide’s face.

The aide froze. Her eyes widened, and she recoiled, her face twisting in agony. Her skin began to smoke and blister, the flesh bubbling and turning to ash. With a shriek that echoed through the sterile room, she disintegrated into dust before my eyes. The scent of antiseptic mingled with a sharp, metallic tang.

I turned back to Grandma May, my heart sinking. It was too late. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing had stopped. As I cradled her frail body, I knew the night nurse was gone, but the nightmare was just beginning. I was left holding the silver pendant, with a chilling knowledge of what had happened and a new, terrifying fear of what was still to come.