''Come closer and I will scream!'' His prey whimpered.
''Scream. I dare you.'' He growled.
Twenty-three-year-old Ilona Bukowski has always been fascinated by the supernatural, even when she shouldn't. This fascination takes her to Romania, where she...
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From the three days Ilona spent in Romania, none had been pleasant. The first thing she noticed was the rancid smell of feces and stale water. The ground she lay on was rock hard and slippery, somewhere nearby the repetitive sound of dripping water could be heard. When she dared to open her eyes, she found herself in a dark cell. A little bit of moonlight shone through a barred window above. This gave her a perfect view of her current problem; a little bit of hay in the corner which was supposed to pass for a bed, there was a bucket beside her, and one sniff was enough to figure out where the stench came from. When she tried to stand, she found that her hands and feet were chained to the wall.
That was the moment panic kicked in. Her breathing became erratic and with wide eyes Ilona tried, in vain, to free her limbs from the iron shackles holding her hostage.
''HELP,'' she screamed so hard her lungs hurt. ''HELP, please someone, help me-'' At the end of the sentence her voice had cracked, and painful sobs echoed off the stone walls.
''No one is going to help you.'' A faraway voice answered to her desperate calls.
Ilona tried to scramble towards the heavy iron door, separating her and freedom. The chains only allowing her a couple centimetres, but it was enough. She put her ear on the door, hoping that this way the voice would be louder.
''Hello? Can you hear me?'' Ilona's voice was raw from screaming but she forced the words out anyway.
''Yes. In fact, we all could.''
''All?''
A bitter laugh followed. ''You did not think you would be alone, did you?''
To be honest, Ilona had not thought at all. Panic had struck her, and she had acted on instinct. She was not alone. There were more people, girls, who were down here too. All in their own cells and in the same situation she was in. Ilona did not know if she should cry from agony or relief.
''W-why are we here?'' She had her suspicion, but she wanted to hear it out loud.
''They are vampires honey, and you are human. Why do you think you are here?''
''She.... here... bloody party...'' A voice Ilona could not decipher spoke in answer and the woman in the cell closest to her huffed a laugh.
''Yes Ingrid, she has joined us for the bloody party.''
Chains rattled somewhere and the sudden noise of someone moving around sounded like nails on a chalkboard in the quiet.
''What is your name, new girl?'' The woman spoke after a couple minutes of radio silence.
''Ilona. Ilona Bukowski. Yours?''
''Max.''
It was nice to put a name to the voice speaking to her. ''How long have you been here?'' Ilona shifted on the ground, fearing the answer to come. It took a while for Max to respond.
