Live another day

No way to escape

Day 28.

Excruciating Pain. The vemon pulsing through my veins, attacking the only part of humanity I have left. This wasn't my fate, this wasn't how I was supposed to die. I was meant to die from old age and live a long and happy life. Married with a family. Not rotting away in a cell. It's been 28 days since I last saw the rising sun beaming through my bedroom window, the birds chirping sweet tunes in the trees and the beaming yellow buttercups growing wildly in the meadow.

Now all I am surrounded by is blackness and damp, the engravings in the walls are nail markings from the previous prisioners, comic strips of there stay here. Words like death, horror, pain, monster, and insanity only scratch the surface of what I and others feel. The only source of light is an airvent 3 feet off the ground, but every few days it becomes an entrance for toxic fumes that burn your insides like acid. The floor I sit on is cold and hard. Rough like sandpaper on your skin, scrapping it away with every movement. Puddles on the floor tinted red with blood from innocent people just like me. Infront of me is a steel door with a hatch that is only opened to supply me with with a crimson red coppery liquid. Blood.

For the first week I refused to drink it until I was chained to a chair and beaten until I was no longer concious. On day 10 of my captivity I was branded with a steaming hot poker iron, the glowing metal melting my skin as the pudrid smell of burning flesh filled the air. Once a painful burn, now a painful reminder of what I am supposed to be. If I become one of them it will be my branding tag and the only identity I will ever have.

In the dungeon there are two other cells, every once in a while you can hear people being tortured, their screams filled with terror and pain and when they're not screaming their begging for mercy, pleading for their release as their sanity and humanity slips away with every heartbeat. When I was first brought here there were two other girls my age but their bodies had already began to decicate as they had given into the demon and the blood they were supplied with. A week later they were removed from their cells and released into the shadows as they had transformed into their new form.

On day 12 two more people were brought down here. They were much older than me. Paul was once a lawyer and had a wife, that was until the demons of the night found her. Damian was the manager for a huge toy store in Central America. He didn't have any family left so flew to England in the hope to start a new life but it was obviously short lived.They were stubborn and refused to drink the blood they were supplied with even after being tourtured. So instead of becoming a recrute, Saluris decided to kill them. Since then it's just been me.

Many have tried and all failed to escape the grasp of Saluris and seek their revenge. Their once diabloical plans seem so petti when they are held to the ground with a knife at their neck pleading for his forgiveness. But loneliness can do that to a person. It can cause them to be blinded by the light and their hopes for freedom that they don't notice this is a one way ticket to death. There are no returns, no second chances and certainly no chances of escape. People come here as an average human being, innocent and vunerable but they all leave in the end whether they're dead in their means to escape or they're reborn as a monster. A cold blooded killer. A murderer that can never be killed themselves. Immortal and bound to the shadows.

I haven't had a proper human conversation in 2 weeks and there's no use trying either. Now that Gareth has gone there's no one to talk to. Most of people that come to supply me with blood and tourture me are working with Saluris. And let's face it they aren't exactly the sort of people you'd want to invite over for tea and biscuits. They're all 6'5 and build like a house for christ sakes. At least when Gareth was here things felt a little bit better. He was the one that tought me to fight and never give up. He believed that one day I would escape this nightmare and create the family I had always dreamed. He was also one of the strongest people I know. At least he was until the Vellamourse brutally murdered him. Gareth Mcook was like me, captured by Saluris' second in comand, Vygamorey just a week after they turned his sister Elana into a monster.

As Gareth was only 16 at the time they decided to keep him as a slave and a blood donor to the one and only Saluris Volinski. Gareth was the sweetest boy ever. He had been working for the Vellamourse for two years before I arrived. On my fifth day here he was sent down to the dungeons to give me and the others a cup of blood but instead he spent a hour talking to me about his life. From then on he would come down here every chance he got usually when Saluris and his men were out hunting and talk to me for hours on end. But two weeks ago he was caught helping me escape.

See we had a plan, we were both going to escape from this hell hole and live our lives together, forever and always, till death do us part. We were going to put a stop to the Vellamourses' vile, sick and twisted games. As they took him away I begged for them to let him go and kill me instead but Saluris doesn't give forgiveness or get revenge, he just gets even. I knew they wouldn't let him live but I never thought they do something so sickening. And all to prove that I would never leave here, not while I was still human. A few hours after the took him they returned dragging his almost limp body behind them, I could tell he couldn't take it anymore. I felt so powerless as I watched them drink every last drop of his blood right infront of me. I'll never forget the look in his eye as he slipped away into the darkness never to return.

I'm trying to hold on to my humanity with everything I have but the end seems so far. I can't become one of them, no matter what I have to keep fighting for both me and Gareth, he wouldn't want me to loose hope. I want to make him proud of me after all he was the one that saved me from myself. If I hadn't have met Gareth when I did I would have given in and let the demon take over. You see when you're locked up in here you begin to refect on every single one of your life choices as all the memories from birth to present time come flooding back. And let me tell you it's not easy to deal with. This sort of stuff is enough to make a person go insane, but not me. I'm stronger than that.

In my nineteen years of life I have made some bad mistakes and choices. My childhood was virtually no existant as I spent half of it in care. The first flash back I had was after my very first sip of blood. It was a flash back of the day my parents were killed. On the 23rd April 1996 My mother and father were on their way back from a week away in the Pacific and me and my aunt Julie were on our way to pick them up from Heathrow Airport. Once we saw them I felt complete as the hole of emptiness was now filled with content and happiness. But that was short lived. As we came off the ring road on the motorway a drunk driver ran a red light and collided with our car. Me and my auntie Julie survived, only just but my parents weren't so lucky. I had three broken bones and two cracked ribs while my auntie had severe concusion and a dislocated hip. My parents didn't die insantaneously, they were rushed into hospital and put in a medically induced comma to give their bodies time to recover but it was to late. There injuries were too severe. They were gone just like that. A few days later my auntie Julie died from a hemorage to her brain. So then it was just me, myself and I. Alone once again. Social sevices picked me up from the hospital a few hours later and took me into a home for orphaned children. A had three foster parents in the space of 3 years but non of them worked out. They told my social worker Annie that no body wanted a depressed child as their daughter.

From that day I never had a foster parent again, not that any one could replace my parents anyway. On my 18th birthday Annie died and had left me all of her inhertance so that I could create a new life for myself. She always reminded me of my mum, caring and gentle but she would never adopt me as her own as she was too old, not that it bothered me. I prefered her as a friend, someone I could confide in and trust. A week after her funeral Saluris and Vygamorey found me and brought me here.

My throat is burnt and dried up from the toxic fumes they released into my cell while I was asleep. I last had blood two days ago they brought some to me yesterday but I spilt it on the floor and pretended it'd cut my leg on the ground. But I don't know how long they'll buy that for. Fighting this thing inside me is killing me, tearing me apart. Even breathing has become a painful challenge. My heart rate is slowing and my breathing has become lighter and less frequent as my heart is adapting to it's new purpose. My liver and kidneys started failing three days ago. Next it will be my heart as it is no longer required for it's new form.

But I won't stop fighting till all of this is over. I will not let any more innocent people die or be transformed into one of them. I will escape from this nightmare and put a stop to this, even if it kills me.