This is the Swedish original text. An English translation is provided here.
Detta stycke fan fiction baseras på John Ajvide Lindqvists roman Låt den rätte komma in. Element som hämtats från romanen är hans verk, emellertid ska han på inget sätt hållas ansvarig för nedanstående text.
This is the English translation. The Swedish original be be accessed here.
This piece of fan fiction is based on John Ajvide Lindqvist’s novel Låt den rätte komma in. Features that have been fetched from the novel are his work; however, he is in no way to be held responsible for the work below.
This is the Swedish original text. An English translation is provided here.
Detta stycke fan fiction baseras på John Ajvide Lindqvists roman Låt den rätte komma in. Element som hämtats från romanen är hans verk, emellertid ska han på inget sätt hållas ansvarig för nedanstående text.
This is the English translation. The Swedish original be be accessed here.
This piece of fan fiction is based on John Ajvide Lindqvist’s novel Låt den rätte komma in. Features that have been fetched from the novel are his work; however, he is in no way to be held responsible for the work below.
The little thing shuffled sideways. I caught the movement at the periphery of my vision. Slight. When I turned and could get a better view I could see the figure was short and indeed a child. Its thin arms were spread out from its body, crooked at the elbows. It was ready to dart yet I could see a confidence to its composure that told me it was not afraid.
Fire is my greatest concern. For years I took the same risk day after day of seeking shelter under roofs or in cellars. But I found that I was entrusting my security to structures created from wood. Accidental discovery, my then primary motivation, had driven me for years to make decisions on where to shelter myself. And too often I found upon review that I had been subjecting myself to poor decisions.
The patter of the rain continued for a long time. Ships moved against their berths. Canvas creaked. Men sang. The water slapped against the piers and the hulls. Through it all I remained quiet. Over and over, the breeze delivered and then stole away the harbor stench and the stench of the men and the stench of the dirt.
I had found long ago that down by the waterfront in Malmö life stirred for at least a short while after dark. And so I became a regular.
A backstory for the encounter by Eli, late in the novel, with a vampire woman. Some dialog is directly from the English translation of the novel and is formatted in italics here, where used.
Billy looked at the clock on the gas stove. He had an hour to kill before the saucer came. He went into the living room, swinging the bottle like a dinner bell, turned on the television. He came slightly unstuck in time, saw the late movie backwards, then forwards again. It was a movie about American bombers in the Second World War and the gallant men who flew them. Seen backwards by Billy, the story went like this: American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses took off backwards from an airfield in England.
