Blood Bound

Chapter 3: The lair of the vampire

I can hardly believe my ears. She killed him because of bad drugs? Over such trivial matter? Sophie can probably see the mortified look on my face because she continues on with her absurd reasoning.

"I mean, if anything, I think I did a good thing by removing him from society alltogether. One less problem from the drug world," she says while striding along the shack and rummaging through the bundles of rags, apparently looking for fresh clothes. Somehow I have a feeling she will find nothing fresh in those piles. I detect blood smears on most of the clothes.

"Ma-Maybe he was doing it on purpose?" I suggest, inching my back closer to the wall when she draws near. "You know, to wean addicts from the drugs?"

Sophie throws back her head and laughs. She always had a pretty laugh that would sing through the air, making others join in on her merriment but the mocking tone that accompanies her laugh now is not contagious.

"I can't believe you're still so fucking naive, Leia," she says and shakes her head, fragments of her laugh still shaking her small shoulders. "No, he was doing it because he wanted more money from his clients. The good, old greed. Never fails. He sold me some bad drugs filled with non-smelling laundry detergent and he thought I wouldn't find out? So I drained him and ripped his head off for good measure. Should send a message to other dealers in the neighbourhood, wouldn't you think?"

"And the other victim?" I ask, trying to push the image of other dealers being dealt with in a similar, gruesome fashion out of my mind.

Sophie shrugs. "Nothing personal there," she replies. "I was just hungry and the guy happened to be at the right place at the right time. Although I might have not been able to control my urges at the end." She adds matter-of-factly but I detect no remorse in her voice, in her whole demeanor. If anything, I am the one to feel pity for the unfortunate man to have stumbled upon her.

"Now then," Sophie turns to me again, admitting defeat of finding no clean clothes around her, and leans against the wall opposite me with her arms folded. The condescending smirk is back on her lips. "You owe me a word of thanks, if I recall correctly,"

I gape at her. We were arguing about two deaths just a minute ago, something that she did not really care for and even have the slightest regret, she even ambigiously threatened my life and the life of my family, and now she wants me to say ‚thank you' for her action two months ago? Even for a vampire, all covered in dried blood, she is unbelievable! She raises an eyebrow when she sees my incredulous expression and my silence so I hasten to answer her.

"Thank you," I mumble into my scarf, avoiding eye contact.

Sophie says nothing for a while, then scoffs. "You're lucky that I've got a keen hearing," she says.

"Look, I'm not here for that," I huff while taking off my schoolbag and grabbing a bottle of water. I hesitate before I toss it over to Sophie. "I'm here because you promised me that you would explain everything. But first, would you please wash yourself? Your look is making me nauseous."

Sophie catches the water bottle as she answers. "I don't remember ever promising you," she drawls but opens the bottle and douses herself in water nonetheless. The dried blood becomes moist, mingles with the water and dissolves into a dull pink liquid as it runs down her mouth, neck and chest. She pours the rest of the water over her hair and sleeks it back, making it seem like she had just risen out of the pool. I suddenly become worried that she might get hypothermia because of the obvious March coldness.

"Aren't you cold?" I blurt out, wishing I had brought a towel or blanket for her. A fresh one, at least. I wouldn't want to touch the dirty piles around us with a ten-feet pole. Imagine the grime, the blood, the germs! I shudder at the thought of it.