Take My Hand Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

            Carson swam out of a haze, his mind not entirely comprehending where he was. He lifted his hand to hold his pounding head, only to discover that his arms barely functioned and would only reach half way to his head due to the heavy iron chains that hung awkwardly from his wrists. He dropped his hand in dismay, the chains clanking loudly as he wobbly raised his head to look around. His eyes blurred and his head swam with the movement. The room was pitch dark, but his enhanced vision allowed him to make out details of the room.  Manacles and chains hung from every one of the four cement walls. The room was simple, ghastly, and smelled of sweat, blood, and mildew. It was small, and the air was thick and musty. There were no windows.

            As Carson’s vision began to clear, he could see that thick manacles wrapped themselves tightly around his wrists and ankles and were connected to chains that could be no more than two feet in length. He tested the strength of the chains and found them to be much more sturdy than expected. He sighed and slumped against the wall, cringing as his head tapped the wall with more force than could be considered tolerable with his pounding headache.

            Memories began to sweep into his mind as his eyes closed. Jocelyn. Amaya. Amdis.  The fight. The pain. Blackness.

            He realized he must be in Dania’s possession. He sighed in resignation, awaiting the consequences to come. His eyes snapped up as a thought occurred to him. Where was Jo? His breathing shortened in worry at what had become of her. He searched for her essence, but he couldn’t sense her. He prayed silently that she had not been harmed, knowing he would do anything in his power to protect her or avenge her, be the situation what it may. Tears formed in his eyes in abject fear that he had failed her and lost the only light that had been guiding him from the darkness.

            Dania leaned toward Jo as the girl trembled before her. She inhaled the scent from her skin as she trailed around her.

            “Do you know what I am?” she whispered as she leaned toward Jo’s neck, her nose grazing her shoulder.

            “Y-yes,” Jo replied, her breath hitching in fear.

            “So he trusted you enough to tell you. Is he in love with you?”

            “N-no. We…we just…met recently.”

            Dania relished the fear in her voice. “Hmm. Why is it that I don’t quite believe you?” She paused and moved Jo’s hair from her shoulder. “Nevertheless, I shall make use of you regardless,” she added with a sinister grin and a feminine disdain to her voice.

            She glanced up to Jo as she revealed her glimmering fangs. Her eyes snapped back to Jo’s neck as she froze in utter fear, her trembling gaining a more frantic rhythm. The smell of her fear was like exotic perfume to Dania’s hunger, and she bent her head to the crook of Jo’s neck, allowing her fangs to snap through each layer slowly, loving the snapping sound it produced and the cry wrenched from Jo’s lips as her body convulsed and sagged as the girl passed out in her arms, as her sweet, untainted blood flowed warmly between her lips and pooled upon her tongue. It gathered slowly before she finally swallowed and felt the warmth suffuse her body, causing her skin to blush in healthful pleasure as it absorbed the giving warmth of Jo’s blood.

            After a few moments, she’d finished with the girl and called Lira to remove her from the room and deposit her in a chamber upstairs behind a locked door. The girl was to become a donor of sorts and would live in elegance, though freedom was certainly not within that definition.

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