© Amber Kalkes 2014
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+Twelve+
My head lulls to the side and back again as I struggle to lift the heavy extremity off the hard black marble of my prison’s floor. My eyes burn and ache from the heavy brightness in the room. They never shut the lights off or even dim them from their stadium watt brightness unless I’m being tortured. It’s almost a relief before they start the interrogations.
“How were you hidden?”
“How many people have you fed from?”
“What is Kale Vaspiri to you?”
“How did Kale Vaspiri help you?”
“Where is Kale Vaspiri?”
I don’t the answer to any of these questions so I just fade in and out of consciousness until I am doused with boiling hot water, which burns horribly. Apparently this is ‘holy water’. In reality our sensitive skin just reacts adversely to any extreme heat, causing the skin to boil, blister and burst. Usually I would heal quickly but these people don’t want me to heal, otherwise, what would be the point? I need to feel the pain and the suffering to give in.
This is the logic behind torture.
Yeah, I don’t get it either.
It just makes me want to be more tightly lipped just to piss them off. I won’t answer anything and such as the situation is they have decided to starve me. I don’t know how long its been since I’ve been in here or how long it’s been since I’ve had a drop of blood but the monster is starting to take over.
Every person who comes in here is like prey to it. It demands I drain them dry, devour them and take them into us. Make us whole again as we were meant to be. The constant hounding to be fed is nearly driving me insane as well as the burning thirst in my throat. My stomach is fairing no better is claws at my flesh wanting out so it can do the job itself but all it does is make it hard to breath past the pain.
I’m still in my red velvet dress as I move from side to side trying in vain to stop the pain in my body. I think of Kale on occasion, trying to stop the pain or distract the bloodthirsty part of my brain. I dream up his dark hair, so thick and begging to be touched. I dream of his eyes often, in my memory they are as black like the blackest night. They call to me, sympathy in them as he looks at me in my mind's view, wanting to save me from this hell. He can't though and the heartbreaking look I conquer up is almost too much to picture. I often have to stop thinking of him or I begin to cry blood, blood that my body needs to cling to.
He probably won’t look for me, I convince myself daily. I may imagine, like a fool that he will, but he won’t. Up to date he’s wanted nothing from me other then to make me his night walking sidekick. He doesn’t want me the way I want him but my heart, the damn organ, clenches at the idea that he’ll allow me to die. That maybe he won’t be my personal savior anymore. He’ll let me die and it only makes my body want to give up quicker.
Still the monster demands we stay alive.
I can’t say I can hang on for much longer though.
The door to the room swings open and lights dim. At first I think it’s another interrogation but that’s until the magnificent Andrei himself comes sauntering in. he looks especially menacing today with his black duster coat, red silk shirt and black dress pants as well as some lovely steel toes boots. His hair is slicked back and his blue eyes look as disinterested as ever. He looks like some extra from the matrix and if I had the strength I would snort at the idiocy of this man’s wardrobe.
“You look worse for the wear, Miss D’Arcy.” He says looking at his fingernails.
My voice is scratchy and barely audible as I reply, “Really? I thought I looked ready for the prom?”
He chuckles but it’s a haughty noise, “Still amusing even as you lay near death, how reassuring.”
I don’t respond.
He drops to one knee before me and I turn my head away from him but he uses his strength against me and forces my head back making my neck snap painfully. He smirks at the noise before almost lovingly brush some of my stringy hair from my face. He grips my chin in his thumb and pointer finger so I have to look at him and I’m happy the lights are dimmed, because my eyes are still stinging.
“I have big plans for you, Darling. Big, big plans.” He whispers. “So prepare yourself to be the star of my show.”
I can smell the blood on his breath. My stomach churns; my throat burns and my lungs squeeze in want and lust for the real deal. I wheeze out a breath and Andrei makes a face of disgust again at my state before standing up.
He makes some flippant gesture and a beautiful mocha skinned woman with hip length black hair and piercing green eyes enters the room. She’s obviously Spanish in descent and such a lovely contrast to Andrei and his albino appearance that I welcome the sight. She’s also the first female vampire other then the distasteful Natasha I’ve ever seen. And this woman doesn’t disappoint.
In summary, she’s beautiful.
“Esmeralda, get her washed, fed, and dressed. She has to look presentable tomorrow for the ceremony.” Andrei orders before leaving the room.
Esmeralda comes over to me followed by two other women but they leave too quickly for my to register them. She lifts the crotched sleeve of her thigh length white dress and brings it to her lips before I hear the familiar crunch of skin breaking open. The monster inside my head springs to life quickly.
Take.
Devour.
Feed.
Esmeralda doesn’t bring it to my mouth but instead lets gravity do its job as it drips from her wrist into my agape mouth. I’m greedy as I feel her taste, a sweet almost fragrant taste, hits my tongue. She does this for about ten minutes and I feel my skin begin to heal completely by the time she’s done. She licks her own wound and I watch as it closes up almost instantly. I feel better, not as great as I could but not as near death as before.
She takes a wet rag from a porcelain basin one of the women had brought in and begins wiping my mouth and my face from all the sweat and dried blood that I’m guessing the past days, have left behind. When she’s done with that she turns me onto my back, I’m not wheezing for breath anymore but I’m still too weak to move, so she moves me herself to unzip the back of my dress.
Her hands are soft, quick and precise as she undresses and the redresses me. My eyes are closed most of the time just trying to ignore the ache in my bones as she moves from the position I’ve been stagnant in since the last interrogation. I don’t know how long that’s been either.
Time, in this room is an illusion. A trick of the mind because nothing is as it seems. With the starkness of the light against the blackness of the walls and the floor no natural light comes in. no sky is visible and after a while everything just becomes one long day you wish desperately would end.
Did I wish for death?
Yes, yes I did.
“The master will make a lesson out of you.” The twirling accent of Esmeralda breaks me from my own bleak thoughts. “He will have you meet the sun.”
“I figured as much.” I whisper, my voice still dry and cracking.
She looks me in the eye for the first time. Those spring green eyes so intense I would think the woman was reading into my soul, if I had one to be read of course. Considering recent events, I can’t be certain anymore.
“Are you not afraid?” She asks.
“Sweetheart.” I say with a small smirk. “I’ve been dying since day one. Your master isn’t doing anything more than speeding up the processes.”
The truth could be so depressing couldn’t it?
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Sadly, one more chapter after this. Will Ruby meet the sun? Will Kale save her? Will anyone save her? What is Andrei's big plan?
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