Code of Conduct |18+ (Ménage)✔

⊰4⊱

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I can faintly hear the sounds of water dripping in the distance. The sound of it pinging off a hard surface echoes through the enclosed room I am in. There is no wind, silence. The silence only broken when another water droplet reverberates the space in which I reside. Opening my eyes, the repercussions of being thrown from a moving motorcycle can be felt through my aching bones. The searing pain where the deep gashes on the sides of my hands had been, were all but fading away, angry red skin left behind.

My eyelids blink open, noticing I am not in an ordinary type of prison cell. This cell contains me with clear Plexiglas, like my captor is afraid of what I could possible do. After all, it's not like a human to fight back, even on their death bed, they always succumb to the darkness and welcoming it like a warm blanket. Even vagrants break, having once been owned, they know exactly the power a vampire holds over them and when caught, they beg for their life and return to one of servitude.

I never wanted that.

I begged him to take my life, to kill me.

He didn't.

Bastard.

I must be amusing, the spark within my soul would be one that a vampire should crush and extinguish. Hope is not something they wish humans to believe in, breaking away from this code that has been instilled into them all. After all, what would happen if everyone stood up for their rights? Their freedom?

That's right, humans have no rights or freedoms, only those bestowed upon them by their masters.

Sitting with my legs straight out in front of me, the clothes I wore were not the ones I had previously been wearing.

Bastard vampire probably enjoys stripping girls.

I was wearing tight black pants that resembles ones made for a woman working in a firm, along with a nice plain black t-shirt. Socks and dress boots were similar colors to this blatant black wardrobe that sucks away individuality. I bring my hands up near my face, examining the sides, affirming the very angry red skin left behind from the open wounds. Using one of my hands to touch where the vampire had thrown my dagger just under my collarbone, it was still tender, but there was no bleeding. There was bruising, that was the only thing I was sure of.

My heart skips a beat, my right wrist is not bare. It has a silver bracelet, the locks in place and allowing for very little give. Turning my wrist, I read the name that is engraved upon the silver plate.

Starr

What, one 'r' isn't enough? Or was that just a typo? Better go back and get his money.

I breathe in deeply, calming myself from trying to break my wrist and attempt to remove the binding element.

The floor that I sit on is also made of Plexiglas, seeing the stone beneath of which it sat upon. When my eyes take in the room encasing the clear cell I sit in, I see that it is very much a dungeon, a sink on the far wall the cause of the dripping water.

Someone should really turn that handle tighter.

My eyes didn't linger on the many torture devices that were easily seen, my soul focus was that of the malachite eyes of the vampire who knocked me out sitting on a chair in the far corner. He holds something in his hands, running over the object a few times.

It struck me then, the words he said to me before I was out cold. He wants me to die a coward and begging for him to kill me because I can't handle everything that is likely about to happen to me. My life needed to end on that road, then at least I would have been reunited with my mother, Laura, instead of spending more time on this miserable messed up world.