Blood Trade│Vampyre Series #1│DISCONTINUED

Blood Trade : Chapter 26 (part 2)

Chapter 26 (part 2)

unedited

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‘It’s Gisela… your Gisela, grandma. Don’t you remember me?’

 Trying to imitate Gisela’s sweet voice wasn’t hard for Aura. The vampire always had her in the back of her mind. The way she carried herself, her smile, her fragrance, the feel of her skin, it was all burned into Aura’s mind. Imitating her voice was similar to imagining her Gisela standing in front of her, in her all her glory, while they explored each other.

The tempting thoughts of their intimate moments last night began to slip into head, but Aura refused to let them take control of her. She had more pressing matters to attend.

‘Gisela? Who is she?’ the old lady asked while she squint her eyes at Aura’s tall frame, trying to see her more clearly, even though it was obvious she was partially blind and couldn’t see more then two feet in front of her.

Aura stood near the door, her face hidden by its shadow. She hadn’t planned on impersonating the human even though it was the best choice for her. If the woman somehow managed to recognize her it would be too much of a hassle and she would have to erase her memory before finding the truth about the vampire from Maria’s past. Aura didn’t want that. She didn’t want to be the villain in her life, not if there was a small chance, some hope that Gisela’s great grandmother might know something about this mysterious vampire and recognize her family.

‘You don’t recognize me…grandma?’ Aura kept up with the act and took a step into the room. She added more emotion into the fake voice, trying to pretend to be hurt and sad about the whole situation. To a certain extent she succeeded in acting the part as the old woman’s expression softened and her unnaturally white eyes turned to look at her.

She still couldn’t focus on Aura’s face but the widow managed to make out the outline through the hazy film that covered her eyes. There wasn’t much distance in between them and the woman took that opportunity to hobble closer towards Aura and stared up at her with those same milky eyes. It wasn’t a pretty sight, watching the once pretty pupils bore into her face while Aura tried her best not to flinch at the closeness between the two of them. The lady seemed to have a serious case of cataracts that had attacked her left eye, but kept her right eye in good condition. It was with this eye that she continued to survey Aura and her black leather outfit.

After what felt like an eternity but was merely a few minutes, Maria gave a brief nod in Aura’s direction and then dragged her feet back to the unkempt metal bed at the back of the room. It was a slow process, given her hunched figure and the uneven breathing that whizzed within her chest and Aura knew it knew it would take a while to actually sit down and have a normal conversation with the old lady.

‘I am sorry child. I don’t recognize you.’ Maria whispered and sat down on the bed. Her skeleton hands moved besides her, searching for something within the folds of the murky bed sheets. From where Aura stood she couldn’t see much of the items that were spread in front of Maria except for a deformed brush that looked centuries old and a pristine white handkerchief which Aura presumed was the only clean thing that the servants had given her.

Maria’s sorry state wouldn’t have been a surprise if she had been living inome rundown institution that had no financial backing and was drowning in its losses. But the Sloan’s Nursing Home wasn’t, in fact it was one of the most luxurious nursing homes she had seen after a long time. And being the owner of this trust, Richard Emerson had left no stone unturned when it came to planning such a huge infrastructure. So why had his own grandmother been forced to live in this state? Why was she living in such a filthy room that was devoid of the most basic furniture and sanitary facilities that the institution was famous for?

The more she thought about it, the peculiar it seemed to Aura. It distinctly remembered the change in expression of the guard as he had showed her the way to Maria’s room. It hadn’t crossed her mind then, but now as she pondered over that one little action she began to piece the two things together. The man had shaken his head in disdain when he had entered Marias’s room, as if he regretted leaving her in this condition. What did that mean? Were they helpless regarding Maria’s state? Where they being forced to do such a thing? But, by whom?

‘Ah..!’ the childlike cry of happiness reached her ears and Aura turned back to the woman, who she had silently ignored till now.

Maria was holding on to a piece of paper, which looked like it had been torn from a kid’s drawing book. Her thin fingers clenched onto it, making indentations on the back of the page that was already smeared with black blotches and dirty fingerprints from Maria’s previous assault. Aura couldn’t see what she kept staring at since the part which contained the drawing was facing away from her. She could only make out the dark outline of a face, a face that had captured all of Maria’s attention.

‘Maria?’ Aura called but her voice fell on deaf ears. She was fixated on that face, her fingers roaming over it as if caressing the face of whomever it was she fancied.

‘Maria? Can you hear me?’

Aura covered the rest of the distance between them and stopped besides Maria, peeking over her shoulders to see what it was that had fascinated her so much. But before she could get a good look at the face that Maria’s eyes were glued at, the old lady shifted her weight, hunching over the picture and hiding it from Aura’s sight, like a small girl afraid to show her secret. A soft whimpered slipped from her lips as she pressed the paper against her flat chest and closed her eyes, shaking her head at Aura’s advances. The woman began to tremble and continue to shake her head, forcing the vampire to take a hasty step back and create some distance between them.

Only when Aura had stumbled back, removing her shadow from Maria’s quivering figure, did she stop the pitiful kneeing sounds and went back to gazing at the painting in her hand. The fearful expression had vanished from her face and Maria’s eyes once again glowed with the unusual light of longing and want.

‘You’re so weird, Maria.’ Aura whispered to herself and groaned in frustration.

How was she supposed to get her answers if the woman herself was this preoccupied by something else entirely? At this rate it would take her more then a few weeks to get a syllable out of Maria’s mouth. And seeing as she had now instilled doubt and fear in the old lady’s heart Aura would have to renew her approach and think of other ways to coax her out of the protective shell and spill the beans of her past.

Just as she made up her decision to leave the old lady and visit her the next day, her boots came into contact with another piece of paper, the singular crunching sound echoing throughout the room and stopping Aura in her tracks. She bent down and removed the crumpled paper stuck in between her heels and straightened it out, wondering what else could this woman be fantasying about.

It was another painting, just like the one in Maria’s hand, only this one was clearer, with sharp charcoal lines as outlines, depicting the various features of a man’s face. Aura wouldn’t say it was the best of the paintings, but it had a certain appeal to it and it had more to do with the face that had been drawn rather then the painter themselves. There was some level of mystery to this face, to the sharp jaw-line that stood out against the white page and the eyes that seemed to pierce through her. The face was familiar, very familiar like a long forgotten name that is at the tip of your tongue but you have yet to spell it. She knew there was some connection between the face staring at her, Maria and the person in her mind.

Those hooded eyes, the way his hair had been cut, shorter in the front and longer down his neck. Something told her it ended in a ponytail, giving the man a rock band appearance.

That particular thought lingered in her mind for a little longer, taking the form of a person, a vampire whom she knew all too well. Even before the image had formed before her eyes she knew who it was, she knew who the stranger was that had ruined Maria’s life all those years ago.

‘Shit!’

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