Worlds Apart

Chapter 1

Pain shoots through my body like a fire destroying a house, as fast as electricity through a wire. It shoots through every layer of my skin. Every organ. Every muscle. Every bone.

Every thought.

Sharp like needles forced below my fingernails. Like muscles being torn from their bones.

But all of it is dulled by the incessant burning in my throat. A thirst beyond anything I could have imagined. Fingernails scratching against the flesh.

I want to writhe, to turn from the pain, but a pressure I don't have the strength to identify holds me in place. I'm locked in position, allowing me only to bear the pain.

I don't know how long it lasts. It's impossible to tell if seconds pass or days. I don't know how long I have to endure this torture until, as suddenly as I became aware of it, it's gone.

And all that is left is the burning in my throat, made harsher by the lack of pain to distract me.

A hunger surges through me, owning me, as I break from the hold to search out relief from the thirst. Through the darkness, a sweet yet metallic scent reaches me, and my blood rushes through my body. Full of desperation and need, I push through the weight holding me in place until I'm free of the hold. An icy wind hits my skin, but rather than sinking into my damp skin and chilling my bones, it skims past me with barely a notice.

"Oh, you're awake. Took your time."

I turn my head to the drawl and catch the scent again. I'm leaping through the air, searching out the relief before I'm aware of it. Something slams into my chest, and I fly backwards, landing heavily on the ground below me. A polished dress shoe on my chest secures me in place as I flail and claw at the leg.

"Why is she breathing like that?" A girl with sharp defining features and long white hair leans over me, confusion tinting her words.

"I don't know, Elizabeth." Exasperation pours from the boy holding me down. Impatience, with either Elizabeth or me. But I'm too desperate, too deep into my hunt to figure out who.

"Actually, why is she breathing at all?" Elizabeth turns her gaze away, and I follow it to the boy. "Did we do it wrong?"

"I have no idea."

"You said you knew what you were doing."

"I said-"

"I know what you said, George."

George's face softens as he turns towards Elizabeth without removing his foot. "She has our scent all over her. Who knows what would've happened if she was found by anyone other than us."

The scent catches me again, and I lurch against George's foot. A hissing sound fills my head. The edges of my vision darken as I search out my urge. George stumbles but regains his hold before I'm up. His hand runs over his slicked-back black hair as if the knock dislodged its hold.

"I think she wants the blood, George."

"Of course." George reaches into his pocket, and I know he's reaching for whatever it is I crave. I can smell it. I can taste it. With a pop, he removes the lid and holds out a jar to me. I don't think twice before the air-chilled glass is on my lips. The heavy, thick substance slides down my throat, finally easing the burn. The jar empties before I'm satisfied, and I tilt my head back, catching every last drop.

"Here." Elizabeth holds out another opened jar. I snatch it from her icy, white hands and press it to my lips again to drink. But this time, when the liquid hits my tongue, I gag and pull the jar to stare at the red contents.