Lord Motte's Vampire Bride - Version 1

Jasmine's Father

Vincent leaves me alone after his little gift to think things over. 

No, I have not put it on, and I don't plan on any time soon...but I have to admit that I am awfully touched. Someone would have to be made of stone to not be flattered in the slightest. 

He doesn't want me to simply accept this life and put up with him. He wants me to actually, truly, love him.

I, Cynthia have never been loved, but it has always been a dream for nearly every little girl on the planet. Now, I didn't daydream about it possibly as much as I did about vampires but- 

I was too busy dreaming about Lord Mot-I mean Vincent, than anything else! Everything fits so perfectly! 

I don't even know how to distinguish my feelings! Half of them are propelled by a lifetime of compulsion to come to this wretched place and fall for a centuries-old vampire, and the other half are propelled by what I assume are my distant, insane memories of my previous life as Isabelle...which is absolutely bonkers, if I hadn't mentioned that already. 

Too conflicted to possibly think of any of it anymore, I crawl underneath the ridiculously comfortable duvet and stare at the bedside table. Curiously, I spot the bottom drawer to still be ajar from the last time Vincent must have pulled it out. I certainly haven't touched it. 

I reach down and slide it open all the way, spotting the shiny exterior of a brand new laptop. Wide-eyed and insanely curious now, I pull it out and fire it up. 

I'm unsure as to whether or not this was intended as a gift for me, or if it was simply something he accidentally left in the bedside table, I quietly hide beneath the duvet as I get it going. 

I scroll with my fingers and search for WiFi - though I doubt there would be such a thing out here! But! To my utter shock, there is, set up specifically for me with no password. 

Breathing hard, I connect it and click on the browser. It buffers for a few seconds (understandable being in the middle of nowhere) and I anxiously try to determine what I should do first. 

Firstly, I search up my name and the local news website already has an article posted about me. I can only imagine what they put on the news about me...I frown sadly. I hope my mother doesn't see it. 

I click on the link titled "Tourist Girl Accused of Fraud and Identity Theft Missing." 

I skim through the article nervously, scanning for any mention of my attack on the police. 

It says my name, the hotel I was staying at and the date I went missing...but there's no mention of any chase on the highway, nor anything about my attack on any of the officers or that man who stopped to help me. They don't even have a lead or a description of me. All they could determine was which one of my identities was real, which they exposed in the article. 

It's all covered up. Everything. 

The only lead they may have is if the man who hired me for the local parade would come forward, but I didn't even show to that. I doubt that would provide little to no new information. 

I might get away with this. All of it. Scott free. 

I run my hands through my hair anxiously at the thought of my mother still spotting that article. Would they contact her? She wouldn't be able to help locate me...but I wouldn't want her to think so badly of me, especially if I will never see her again to defend myself or explain things...all these insane, insane explanations. 

To get my mind off of it, I curiously search for Jasmine's name to see if she has been reported missing. 

"I had to search through four or five pages before finally coming across a missing report. Clearly, there is not being much done, but she has been reported missing. 

I click on the article and her smiling face pops up at the top. It looks like her father built the website to raise awareness about her disappearance as the police will do nothing about it. As it turns out, that poor, little innocent soul had run away from home two months ago after fighting with father over...what he simply writes as a "misunderstood disagreement" and she left home that same night on her own. As she's of age and packed her things before leaving, the police will do nothing about it. She actually even spoke with them three weeks after her departure, stating she left to live on her own and wished to not further contact her father. 

They will never, ever find her. Disappointed, I close the web page and stare at the blank screen. 

Her father will never know what happened to her. He'll live his whole life in silence, not knowing how to ever reach her again, wondering sleeplessly if she is living her life or what she's doing or-

I tried to force this thought out of my brain by searching some more about my own situation. Pride Parade found a replacement photographer, the man who hired me was not even phased when I didn't show as freelance photographers apparently blow him off all the time. He sent me an email stating not to further contact him to do business and that he isn't surprised I wasn't serious. Such an email would have stung if I was still in the business, but as of now...I am guessing that my career is now over anyway.

But yet, even after scanning quietly through all my social media, I cannot stop thinking about it. Poor Jasmine...

Would she want her father to know what her demise was? Does he at least deserve an answer? 

Slowly, but surely, I open up the web page once a more and go back to her father's desperate website and scroll to the bottom. 

Shakily, against my better judgment, I scroll to the bottom and press the contact button and start typing. 

"I saw your daughter three days ago at a small diner. She seemed happy and well and invited me to eat dinner with her. She didn't seem to want to be found, but please know that she is okay, and working away on the road as a freelance photographer." 

I hit send before rethinking and cringe instantly. 

I hope he will take this as an answer. 

And then that will be all.