The Donor to a Vampire (Donor #1)

Chapter 10: In The Dead of The Night

My heart raced as my back pressed against the wall, and I yearned to blend in with my surroundings like a chameleon. Suddenly, the mirror shifted under my weight, and I nearly stumbled. Whipping around on my heels, I came face-to-face with...myself. Startled by my own reflection, I stared at my wide-eyed, frightened expression in the mirror. It rotated on its axis as I touched the glass, revealing a hidden room beyond.

Thank you, my Guardian Angel, for paying attention to me at this moment and not getting me killed.

The sound of approaching footsteps grew louder and louder, thudding on the marble floor like gunshots in the otherwise silent room. With time running out, I knew it was now or never. Sneaking into a hidden chamber, I carefully placed a mirror in its primary position, leaving just a small crack so I could observe without being seen. I didn't care who or what was approaching; whoever it was seemed confident that the room would be empty. Peering into the pitch darkness, I waited for the person whose footsteps could awaken the deepest, most evil souls in hell. In the shimmering light of the water, I could barely make out two figures standing just beyond my line of sight. The dim illumination provided only a small amount of visibility, leaving me unable to discern their identities.

The first shadow's voice broke the silence, a deep and unmistakably masculine tone that sent chills down my spine. "Is he going to be a problem?" The sheer coldness of his manner made me tremble on the spot, goosebumps rising on my skin.

Talk about serial killer vibes right there.

"In my opinion, no," answered the second figure, her voice soft and submissive. I could tell from her tone that she held a deep respect for the person she was addressing.

As the conversation progressed between the two shadowy figures, something in the woman's voice tugged at my memory. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I was sure I had heard it before. However, her reply was spoken in such a hushed tone that I only caught snippets of it. She mentioned something about the man being too busy and occupied with his donor, but her words were muffled and hard to hear.

Despite the difficulty in hearing their conversation, I caught a few more phrases: "Wasn't followed", "not suspect", and "too blind to notice." These words made me feel as though something was not right. The other figure mainly remained silent, yet his presence alone was enough to make me feel uneasy. Every fibre of my being urged me to run, to get as far away from these shadows as possible. I could feel the beating of my heart in my chest, so loud that I feared the figures might hear it.

Suddenly, the man spoke again, causing my breath to hitch in my lungs. "Hear that? Were you followed?" he asked, and my fear only intensified.

I held my breath, waiting for the woman's response.

She sounded alarmed as she replied, "Impossible."

I stealthily moved away from the peephole, taking care not to make any noise. With my hand covering my mouth, I ensured that even my breathing couldn't be heard. It was clear that if I were to be discovered, my time on this good Earth would be limited.

"The Rogues. It is time; you understand what to do?" With his question lingering in the air, the man began to fade away into the darkness like a phantom.

"Without a fault." Was the womans' reply as she followed him.

The footsteps faded away, leaving the room eerily quiet. Fear paralyzed me, rendering me motionless in my hiding spot. I couldn't bring myself to even consider leaving; the thought of being discovered was too much to bear.

If I was a villain, I would wait in the darkness to see if someone would emerge from their hiding spot and then attack.