Meeting Mr. Vampire

~4~

~Chapter 4~

My body went still, and the terrible ringing from the phone echoed in my ears, I heard my mothers voice recite to leave a message, and all hope of living left me. Suddenly I felt the phone being plucked from my hand at the same time as something cold and sharp burned against my throat, I wanted to scream and cry, but fear kept every instinct I had paused.

The abrupt crackling sound caused me to flinch against the metal on my throat allowing it to bite into my skin. I saw specks of black fall next to my feet. When I forced my eyes to look down, I gasped. My phone was crushed to bits, the inner workings of it exposed. I whimpered, if this man can do that to my phone, imagine what he could do the me. Tears pricked at my eyes, and next thing I knew horrible sobs escaped my mouth.

"Please...Don't....Hurt me." I exclaimed through sniffles.

I felt his head move forward so close that I could feel his hot breath on my ear.

"Now why would I hurt you?" His voice confirmed that he was one of my kidnappers, causing my fear to increase. "You're my little project.", he ended his statement with a sinister chuckle. Just as I was about to let out more cries he forcefully turned my body around to look at him. His eyes were the first things I noticed, they were vivid blue. His red lips outlined the dark smile he wore. The contrast between his dark hair and light skin was like I was watching an evil villain in a black and white movie. My eyes widened as I finally realized how cold his hands were.

"Now," His voice almost made me flinch again, "where should I make the first cut?" He glided the tip of his knife down my arm, arising goosebumps of disbelief. I shouldn't have trusted him. Why would he bring a knife if he didn't want to hurt you, I internally scolded my naive self.

"Here?" He pointed the knife at my wrist forcing enough pressure for droplets of blood to bubble beneath the razored edge. The pain came an instant afterwards, generating a pathetic whimper to push past my lips, uselessly I tried to rip my arm free away from the pain. Almost as if he expected it he held my arm in place and his strength preventing my whole body from moving.

 Tears obscured my vision, forcing me to blink them away to keep me alert on what this man intended to do with me. "Does it hurt?" His voice was wickedly low and quiet. My wide eyes were transfixed on the hand that held the knife. A growl, almost inhuman, made me flick my attention to his face. His brow was furrowed and his teeth bared like a wolf threatening it's prey. "I asked you a question." 

As the last syllable fell from his lips the knife bit deeper into my wrist, A high pitch scream sounded from my mouth for an instant until my brain told me to shut up. In any horror movie the ones who scream are the ones who die. Yes relating this situation to a movie is morbid but its the best I could stand on. My thoughts flew around in my head, leaving me unable to grip onto something reasonable. 

"Yes." I squeezed out through gritted teeth. "Yes it hurts", my voice cracked upon the last word. Amusement lit up his face and next thing I knew my hand was released and the knife was withdrawn from my flesh. Next blink, I was on the ground clutching my bloody arm to my chest. Sobs shook my entire being the pain finally erupted, but the violation was worse. I wanted my safety back. I wanted to know everything is okay. But the fact of the matter is - these might be my last minutes alive. 

I looked up through tear wetted lashes to the intruder. "Why?" I sniffle. I watched closely as the smile fell from his face, the menacing look of dominance vanquished from sight.

A sigh slipped past the red full lips as if I was a child bothering him with ignorant and minuet questions. I flinched away from his body as he sank to his knees next to me. The knife, now slick with crimson, was still clutched in his hand, leaving me no chance to slink away.

Surprisingly he wrapped his fingers around my wrist carefully and pulled it away from my now stained shirt. "Look." Instead of following his instruction immediately I kept my eyes trained on his face until his eyes fell to my mangled arm. I watched the blood slowly ooze over my ripped skin. Whimpers relentlessly slipped out of my mouth. The pain didn't match how it looked, though. In fact the pain was barely there. My breathing slowed as some panic found its way out of my chest. 

But soon it came back, hit my chest hard stopping my breathing all together. My skin folded over the blood and meat of my arm. Invisible hands pulled the pink flesh together completely leaving my hand healed, leaving only a pale, jagged, line as proof of the knife ever being lodged in my arm. 

At first I thought I was floating, the surreal scene was enough to make me want to vomit, but soon I felt my brain pulled back by gravity reality smacking me awake. A sudden and short yell, I did not even recognize as mine emerged from my mouth. It was then that I realized the situation, I pushed my nausea aside and scrambled away from the man in front of me. He almost took my life twice, this time he did something completely more frightening. 

He, somehow, managed to keep me alive. 

My breathing leveled out to a fast pace that still allowed me to focus. The only time I let my eyes leave the man sitting just a few feet from me was when I flicked my eyes to my arm, astonished by the severity of my situation. One of the times I let my eyes linger a little to long at my scar, a deep voice pulled them back, like a metal marble to magnets. "Before you hit a state of panic of which I will not be able to bring you back from, I'm going to explain."

As if on cue my brain yearned for explanation, the sweet sense of reality now seemed a luxury. I let my eyes steady on the strangers bright iris, the only light thing about this man was his eyes. Everything else was dark and sinister; from the curl of his lips to pull of his voice.

"Take a picture, it would last longer", I blinked to gravitate my thoughts back to the situation and waited for him to start again. "You're going to experience a few differences from your previous life."

The words sounded so casual, but to me they hit like a brick wall. My life shouldn't be put into the past tense. So wrong and cynical to express. But the way the words sounded seemed to hold some truth in it. I, moving my arm for the first time, grasp the bloodied carpet beneath me, allowing me to conclude that I am still in my own body. The ghost of nausea settled in my stomach like a boulder.

"Strength, Smell, Hearing, Sight, Speed, and most of all, Thirst." He counted off the meaningless words with his long fingers. I furrowed my brow to express my confusion, afraid of how my voice may sound if I audited it.

"You'll figure it out. You're smarter than you think, Sandra." He rose to his feet, resulting in a violent flinch from me. Either he didn't notice or he didn't care, because he strode over to my window. His fingers lingered under the latch and he let his final words carry out before he crawled through the hole.

"See you soon."