I was woken by Johanna calling my name sometime in the night. I groaned and pulled the blanket over my head, but she yanked it down and grabbed my legs.
“Come on, Lily. Annabelle requests your presence,” she grunted as she pulled me onto the floor.
I thudded off the bed and rubbed my behind, peered up at her with my most annoyed look—the one with the knit eyebrows. She scoffed and began to laugh. It wasn’t funny. I was being serious here! She stopped laughing and took hold of my arm.
“Please, Lily. I don’t want to be tortured again.”
“You were tortured? Why? When?” I asked.
Tears welled in her eyes. “For your escape. I was one of the people entrusted to look after you along with Kristy, and I let you escape. I was,” she whimpered as I assumed she was remembering the ordeal, “tortured really bad.” She lifted the hair from the back of her neck and showed me a rose shaped brand. Then she peeled back her skirt and showed me another brand, this one on her inner right thigh. I gasped in shock and anger flared through me. How could someone do this to another person?
Oh, right, we were talking about Annabelle here. The wicked bitch of god-knows-where.
And Annabelle had known about the “escape” anyway, so why even hurt Johanna and Kristy to begin with?
Oh, right I almost forgot again. We were dealing with Annabelle.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Tears dripped from my eyes, and I clenched my hands into fists.
She sniffled. “Will you come with me now?”
I nodded my head. “Yeah.”
She offered me her hand again, and I grasped it, and she hefted me up. My legs were wobbly, and I stumbled into the bed, but Johanna had a firm grip on my hand and wouldn’t let me fall.
“Are you sure you can walk?” she asked, voice dripping with concern.
I was about to say yes when my knees gave out, and I crashed onto the floor. She quickly scooped me up into her arms and walked briskly down the lit corridor. I was embarrassed I had to be held like this, but my legs just wouldn’t work, and I wondered why.
When Johanna was right outside Annabelle’s door, the hunger began to tear through me. I snarled in desperation but bit my lower lip to keep from screaming. The burning ignited into life inside me and engulfed me in a fiery field, and I wildly thrashed in Johanna’s arms. She was fast and opened the door, gently set me on the bed, and turned to leave.
“Oh, Johanna, wait,” said Annabelle.
The maid turned around and her eyes locked with her mistress. “Yes, my queen?”
“You failed to knock before you opened the door,” the mistress said curtly.
Johanna’s face became pale as a ghost. “I-I’m very sorry, my Queen. She was flailing around and looked in pain, so I hurried to get her in here.” She bowed her head.
Annabelle glided to her and clapped her hands on either side of her face. “Johanna, Johanna, no need to be so bashful. I won’t do anything bad to you. Just maybe a bit of punishment later, okay?”
Johanna made a small whimpering sound and nodded, hazel eyes glossy. Annabelle shoved her through the door, closed it, and then fixed her full attention on me. I lashed about, gripped by the intense burning need. She came over and caressed my forehead.
“Your eyes are red, and your fangs are bared. Good. You’re readier than I thought you’d be. But then again, you haven’t drunk in more than three days and certainly not from your blood-sire.” She chuckled.
Three days? I was in that hellhole for three fucking days?
I pulled myself up so that I leaned into the headboard of the bed and panted. It creaked as Annabelle swiped the curtains away and sat on the mattress beside me. She eyed my body up and down, and I realized that I was in a lacy pink nightgown with a butterfly print. She reached out a hand, twirled her fingers in my hair, and rubbed it against her cheek.
She mused with a wide grin, “What should I do with you now?”
I shuddered with immense pain and cried out. Annabelle’s neck looked so good, so delicious. I just wanted to set it free, let the blood rush out in a scarlet river.
“Oh, I know! Let’s go on a hunt,” she said.
I choked, “A-a hunt?”
“Yes, a hunt. It’s when vampires go out and find a human to feast on. It’s nothing new, just that your master wanted to retain at least some of your innocence. I’m going to break you of that and show you how cruel we can be, how monstrous we can become because of our need, the hunger for blood inside us. I’m sure that soon you’ll grow accustomed to it and won’t be able to wait until the next one.”
“May I please go along, my Queen?” asked a familiar voice. I searched around the room and noticed Priscilla sitting on a black love seat. Her corkscrew blonde hair was tied in tiny little braids, and she was dressed in a tight dark blue A-line dress and white pumps. Her face was as angelic as the first time I had seen her. It seemed as if it was glowing.
“Of course you can come, Priscilla,” she replied.
Annabelle stood, and I glimpsed what she wore; a black V-neck polo shirt with dark jeans and stilettos. I moaned in my misery and just wanted to pounce on her and drain every last ounce of her blood.
Priscilla’s heels clopped against the carpet, and she came over, lifted me from the bed, and held me in her arms. The pain I felt, the extreme thirst, overtook my entire body, my entire being, and strangled me silently inside so I couldn’t speak.
“All ready to go?” asked Annabelle.
Priscilla smirked. “Of course.”
“Then let the hunt begin.”
* * * *
My vision was red and blurred, and my mind reeled with the thought of blood. Annabelle had me wrapped in her arms as she flew from the castle into a quaint little town. Priscilla trailed behind us, her dress bellowing in the wind.
“I can fly,” she told me, “For just a little bit if I focus very hard.”
As the trees thinned out and we neared the town, Annabelle landed on a sidewalk. She squeezed me tightly before letting me go, and I stumbled onto the hard cement. Priscilla arrived soon after and rushed to help me up, but Annabelle held out an arm and blocked her from doing so.
I was dizzy and nauseous, and my head spun. The thirst roared inside of me, clawed at me like a wild beast from within. I searched everywhere for a suitable meal but found nothing.
A voice inside my head screamed, You can’t drink from a human! You can’t! Don’t you want to retain all that you have left as a human? Don’t you still want that piece of you that’s still mortal?
I laughed and spoke back to the voice, “I don’t care. I really don’t fucking care anymore. I must…I have to drink. I have to drink. That’s all there is to it.”
Annabelle squinted her eyes and did the same, and then, she sniffed the air and said, “Lily, there’s a man coming our way. Can’t you smell that delicious blood streaming through his veins?”
I inhaled deeply and recognized the scent of a man. It was husky and smelled of alcohol, but I didn’t care. The thirst throbbed inside me; every cell ached and sang through my bones. I watched as the man approached on running sneakers, his breath reeking of beer.
He was rather young and had a thick head of brown curls. The rest was fuzzy and scarlet as my vision honed in on the one thing I was interested in—biting into his neck.
Right before he passed us, I pounced on top of him. He struggled and yelled for help, but I quickly sank my fangs into his throat. I tore at his flesh and buried deep, held his arms down and straddled his legs. He immediately ceased all action. His body went limp, and his eyes rolled with ecstasy as I greedily pulled at his blood, savoring the carmine liquid and relishing the exotic taste. I drank and drank, and I didn’t know why, but sometime later, which was like years, I yanked free of him and licked my lips in contentment.
My vision cleared, and I felt like myself again. However, when I stared at the man, I shrieked in horror. He looked like a shrunken prune. His cheeks and stomach were caved in and his flesh hung in sickening flaps on his body. I strained my ears for a heartbeat but heard nothing.
My god, what had I done?
Annabelle and Priscilla strode to me and caressed my face, my shoulders with light fingers. They told me I was “such a good girl” and drowned me in some kind of praise.
I didn’t know what they said. I didn’t care enough to listen.
The man was gone. Dead. He was dead. A human. Dead.
And I was the one who killed him.