"Wake up!" someone calls urgently.
"Mmmmm... What?" I mumble. My eyes flutter open and burn as they adjust to the dim, yet seemingly bright light.
"Hurry, you need to prepare for the day!" Alexander blurts out urgently.
"We don't have much time before Madame awakes," Lou-Ell calls me.
"What?" I sat up, startled I jump up and run to the closet, change in the bathroom. I splash some water on my face helping me wake up, the beads of cold water run down shock my senses into alertness. I hurry to follow Sofia, who is heading up the stairs with Lou-Ella and Alexander.
"I have to make Madame's bed," Sofia informs me and heads up another flight of stairs.
"What are we doing?" I murmur while following Lou-Ella into the kitchen. The counters are made of beautiful marble, and a few clay decorations line the shelves near the wall. I marvel momentarily at the opaque blue vase with red flowers. A couple of framed paintings hang near the door on either side. Pictures of vast cities with shades of stone-gray, sky-blue, beige-brown, and blood-red colors.
"Madame's breakfast," Lou-Ella tells me. She crouches down beside the cabinet, where she opens up an icebox. The icebox held cold bottles of blood. Each labeled for a particular kind.
"Ewww," I mutter.
"You fix it like coffee, just heat it up," Lou-Ella explains to me. She grabs a bottle of blood and dumps it into a pot over the oven. The smell is terrible, similar to the holding cell I stayed in before the auctioning. I shove wood under the stove, holding my breath as hot flames roar beneath the furnace. The blood heats in seconds, and bubbles and splatters the stovetop. Once melted, it's poured carefully into the glass, coming up to a beautiful red line at the brim.
The dining room is just as fabulously furnished as the rest of the house. I lay a beige placemat out where Madame will drink. I shudder at the sight of the glass. Just as I set it out, Madame enters the room. We pause for a second, her gaze falling on each one of us as she strides in gracefully she takes a seat the moment the glass is set down. While I don't quite understand what these vampires are capable of, I know they're powerful. Her very presence in the room is something like being in a cage with a lion. A dangerous predator, so close that you can feel its presence. We stand in a line waiting for Madame's orders. She takes a few sips and sighs in contentment. 'So gross, absolutely, positively gross' I gag internally, fighting to keep a straight face.
"Lou-Ella, Sofia, Alexander tend to the garden, it's getting quite chilly out. I want Rosella here to see if she was worth the money I paid," she decides, at last, smiling cruelly at me. Her fangs are exposed, and the tips stained with red blood. She licked them, wiping them clean of stains. The urge to run, leap, fly away fills me as the others leave me in the lion's den.
"You shall come with me," she orders.
"W-where are we going?" I ask, my voice was weak when I spoke.
"Don't you ask, obey," she hissed furiously, extending her fangs at me. I can't help but flinch. Her dark eyes flashed red for a second.
"Yes, Madame," I breathe. I follow her out of the house and down a long narrow pathway with walls on either side. My heart is still racing as I follow Madame. Fear is painful told hold onto, but I can't let it go. It's so gravitational, pulling you in, growing worries in your head. Vampires, these monsters of legend and mythology, are terrifying. In folklore, they scare little children, but in reality, it's hearts stopping. Once out of the narrow alley, we are in a small, busy vampire town. Horse-drawn carriages stroll down the stone streets, vampires and human peasants walk briskly down the sidewalks to and from boutiques, and early light snow is falling steadily from the gray clouds above. The town is centered around a large, still, dull fountain.
"Hurry up now," Madame snaps harshly, continuing her fast pace a short distance ahead of me.
"Yes, Madame," I call, rushing to follow her. I follow her into a clothing shop. She grabs a bunch of clothes, looks over jewelry until she picked out a red ruby necklace. While she shops, I can't help but take a look at the clothes myself. Fabulous silks and satins hang on the walls. Cotton dresses and wool scarves dyed shades of purples and blue. It was a luxury if you could afford the clothes that were displayed. I put a little as I look over some dresses I'd love to wear. 'I used to have that luxury,' I remind myself bitterly. Madame checks out and then throws the bags at me. I can't carry them. I strain to pick up the heavy cloth and jewelry, there's no way she can expect me to haul these bags around. My eyes flicker up towards her, her eyes staring down at me.a
"Pick them up! Those clothes are made of imported silk, I need those clothes in a week," she yells at me. She storms out of the store while I struggle to keep up with the bags. 'She's a vampire, an immortal with superhuman strength. These bags would be easy for her to carry!' I think, pouting behind Madame. She is beginning to become further ahead of me. 'If I don't keep up, I'll be lost in a village full of vampires,' I realize. The further away Madame becomes, the more looks other vampires give me. So many red, greedy, eager, hateful looking eyes, and some of them look hungry.
Madame briskly enters another store, and by the time I catch up to her, she's already walking out with a pair of shoes looking quite impatient. How is she so fast! She continues walking away from a further distance without bothering to see if I was even following. If I dared, I suppose I could run, but not in a town full of vampires. Where would I go, and how would I avoid being caught? Finally, I reach the pathway between the two buildings and catch up with Madame. Her luxurious home is thankful, not far away. Back at home, Madame fell back into the beige couch. She put a delicate hand to her forehead. I carefully set the bag down, momentarily gawking in awe at the beautiful clothes. I start to reach out to touch the silks, but I hold back. Despite my caution, Madame isn't even looking in my direction. She stares up at the ceiling.
"Oh... I'm parched. Go and fetch me a glass of O positive," she orders, her voice barely above a whisper. I whirl around fast on my toe into the kitchen in search of a drink for her. I grab a bottle at random when it starts to slip. Curse my shaky hands.
"Okay, maybe I can grab another bottle," I mutter to myself.
"Rosella, do hurry!" Madame calls from the room over. I grab another bottle, rip off the purple ribbon around the top, and pour a quick glass. It sloshes in lightly, a sickly bright red color that makes my stomach churn.
"Here, Madame," I mumble. She snatches the glass, making little droplets slosh on the floor. Leaning back slowly, she talks a long gulp of the blood. She sits back up, nose crinkling up. Her eyes narrow.
"What, What is this?" she snarls, her eyes redden. I take a step back, my legs wobbling. She disappears, and only by her shadow does I know she's in the kitchen. Madame suddenly lets out an ear-piercing scream. Her shrieking echoes up into the high ceilings, bouncing back like a ghostly wail. Madame appears before me. I gasp, staggering away.
"You ruined that bottle of blood, and now you ruined the blood I was going to offer to an important friend! Those were expensive," Madame hisses. She punches the wall creating a large crack in the middle. The framed pictures rattle, the walls quiver, and the floor creaks under her curiosity. She huffs, shoulders hunched up, and eyes glowing furiously. Madame smiles, showing off a set of fangs. Visions, memories of that girl, and the shaggy-haired man in the basement flash before my eyes. Her grip loosens ever slightly.
"You shall pay for your unsatisfactory work," Madame decides to tell me at last. Something whispers in the back of my mind but doesn't click.
"W-what do you mean?" I ask her. She smiles as she comes closer and tilts my head up, so my neck is painfully arched upwards. My breathing speeds up, and there is a pain in my chest. It finally gets through my thick skull. A searing heat rises within me. My lungs expand painfully.
"Please don't, I beg of thee!" I plead, blurting out my words.
"Don't you tell me what to do!" she snarls. Her fangs graze my neck, so I push her away. Before she can do anything more, I bang my head against her forehead. She releases me, howling in pain and fury. Something red and sticky drips down my forehead, and it throbs. I start to fall, but I fight the dizziness. Before I can run, she grabs me by my neck.
"You ungrateful little wretch," she roars at me. Hot, searing pain travels through the side of my neck unexpectedly. I can feel her cold breath on my neck. Her fangs are piercing my neck. My mouth opens to scream, but nothing comes out. I strain for my muscles to work. I bring up a fist, and it collides with her left eye. Her fangs leave my neck, allowing the cold air to sting the wound.
"I wasn't going to drain you, so quit struggling," Madame hisses, and her teeth sink into my neck again. I struggle to keep standing, but my strength is failing. My breathing slows, and it's hard to see clearly. It's absolutely sickening, the feel of the fangs, and knowing that your blood is being drained from your body. Pain radiates down my neck through my entire being. My head throbs with pain. Without warning, I hit the floor and start to roll downwards towards the stairs. I lash out desperately for the stair railing. I latch on desperately as Madame slams the door shut. I listen to her footsteps move away before my body instinctively allows crying. Whimpers and sobs rack my body violently.
"Rosella?" I hear someone call. 'Stop crying someone is coming,' I think, but I can't stop.
"Rosella!" I hear Alexander call to me.
"Lou-Ella! Rosella's been hurt," he calls over to her. I pull my legs up closer on one step and curl up as tight as I can. My eyes shut as hot tears spillover. A pang strikes deep in my neck, and louder whimpers escape my lips. I feel a hand pressed to the wound, and a cry escapes me again.
"Shh-shh, it's alright," Lou-Ella coos sympathetically. She mummers are reassuring. My eyes shut close, and when they open, I am in bed. A cold rag is being pressed on my neck, cooling the wound and swelling from the violent biting.
"Hang on, Rosella," Alexander tells me. I feel something, a sort of cream is rubbed on my wound, and it stings like crazy. I moan in protest but do my best not to squirm and fret.
"Madame can be a messy feeder, she more often than not tears at the neck," Lou-Ella informs me, "be most grateful for your life that she didn't rip your throat to shreds," she adds, her eyes distant.
"I'm sorry, it's to clean the wound," Sofia tells me. I grit my teeth and bear through it. The scent of the medicine is strong and wafts over my nose. I detect a faint trace of mint in the mix. The stinging dulls and cools. A sigh escapes my lips, and I feel myself relax into a body numbed sleep.