𝘽𝙤𝙤𝙠 #1 𝙑𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝘿𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨 •'¯'•»
Growing up on the rough streets of western Sydney, seventeen-year-old Helena Callahan has always been a fighter. Her philosophy was simple: be sly, agile, and never get caught doing something...
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I awoke with a sharp pain in my skull.
It felt as though there was a weight on it. And the further I came into consciousness, the deeper the pain struck. I clawed my sharp fingernails through my hair and applied pressure on my head. This seemed to relieve some tension, but not much. I groaned as that pain shifted throughout my entire body. My muscles tensed as I cried out in sheer agony, and then I grit my teeth as the crushing sensation slowly dispersed into something similar to extreme growing pains. These weren't so bad by comparison, just more or less unbelievably uncomfortable.
Slowly, I gazed around the room I was in and struggled to remember how I got here. The room had ruby red walls, with a modern version of an old, high-structured ceiling, and dark polished furniture. I rested on a black, metallic-framed bed. It had luxurious red silk sheets and hard pillows. Admittedly, this was not the first time I had woken up in some stranger's bed with a massive hangover, but whatever drug I had taken must have been insane because I didn't recall a single thing.
What was the last thing I did?
I struggled to remember.
It wasn't until a dark figure walked into the room that I felt as though these blood-red walls came crashing down around me.
Suddenly, I remembered.
I remembered everything clearly. I recalled the girl being killed in the dark alleyway, running into Lester who then tried to rape me, and finally the psycho killer that saved me and forced me to drink his blood. What I recalled the most, however, was the sweet taste. My mouth started to water at the thought.
With a lot of effort, I forced myself to focus again.
"What the hell am I doing here? Who are you? What do you want from me? And what happened to my clients?"
As I spoke those words, I remembered that they were dead. Well, aside from Lester, but he got lucky.
"Clien—" His words cut off. "Oh God, I turned a hooker!"
Fear jolted through me when I realised that I hadn't inhaled a single breath since I had woken up. This, clearly, was very odd. I felt weird, obscure, and different from my normal self. It almost felt as though I was dreaming because I was surrounded by this surreal sensation, but at the same time, my mind seemed clearer than ever before. Actually, it surpassed my thoughts and moved throughout my vision. The world appeared clearer.
I could see every crack and indent on the wall while still focusing on the flawless face of my captor and saviour. The pain made me realise that I was not dreaming, that I was, in fact, wide-awake and coherent.
Something was different, but it definitely wasn't the world I was living in. It was just me, I realised. There was something a little off about me.
