BloodLust

Ch. 11 🩸Aftermath🩸

Stars exploded in my vision as my skull cracked against the stairs, curling around myself as I tumbled down into the cellar. After seeing, and being seen by, the man delivering the letter the vampire had quite literally dragged me back down the hall and threw me into the dungeons before slamming and locking the door without a word, clawed hands shaking with barely concealed fury.

Once I reached the bottom of the stairwell and the cool darkness wrapped itself around me like a soothing quilt, I allowed my body to sag and closed my eyes against the pain in my head. There were going to be a number of bruises littering my body tomorrow and I felt each one individually as I lay there in blissful silence, avoiding letting my mind wander to what the monster would do to me now that she'd been discovered.

                                    — — —

I must have dozed off at some point because suddenly I was waking up to almost total darkness, the sliver of light that came through the barred window now nothing but a faded puddle of moonlight as dark clouds obscured the sky. I carefully tested out each finger, toe, arm, and leg, finding pretty much everything achy and bruised but nothing broken. There was a shallow cut on my forehead and a decent sized bump underneath it but I didn't think I was concussed, just sore.

I more or less crawled into my usual sleeping corner and relaxed against the icy wall with an exhausted sigh, trying to go back to sleep and get as much rest as possible before tomorrow, the sound of the irate sea crashing against the rocks below as the snowy wind raged outside allowing me to dream of a ship taking me far away from this cursed island.

When I woke next it appeared to be around midmorning, warm sunlight just barely illuminating my cell. I hadn't been summoned for breakfast and I had no idea if the vampire had ventured into town as she usually did or if she had remained at the house to "deal with me", not that I particularly wanted to know either.

My head hurt. My body hurt. My limbs hurt. Everything ached from tumbling down the stairs, bruises in the distinct shape of a slim fingered hand wrapped around my bicep from being dragged down the hall. The cut on my head was crusted with dried blood but the bump had become less swollen, if not any less tender to the touch.

I strained my ears for any sound of movement upstairs, afraid to move around lest my scuffling  bring attention to my consciousness. The house appeared to be unoccupied, the only sounds filtering into my ears the typical drips, groans, and creaks of the old mansion home.

I sighed, knowing there was nothing to do now but wait on the monster to release me. Or perhaps finally kill me.

— — —

3d person pov.
The day before.

Surprised brown eyes locked with fearful ones through the slit in the door, the postman catching a glimpse of a surprisingly familiar face. However, before he could get a good look at the girl hidden in the shadows and making sure she was who he believed her to be, the unusual woman who owned the house atop the hill snatched the letter out of his hands and slammed the door in his face without another word.

The postman drew back in shock, hesitating only a moment as he contemplated what he had just witnessed before hurrying off back down the steep path, frequently glancing behind himself as if the old widow was going to pop out of the shadows and snatch him.

He made it back into town and allowed his shoulders to sag in relief at being back in civilization, a sense of safety overcoming him as he tried to slow his step as well as his heartbeat. The postman was finished with his rounds for the day and dropped off his bag at the post office, swallowing the bile rising in the back of his throat as his eyes automatically scanned over one of the missing posters that had been put up all over town yesterday, those same eyes, that same hair, that same face he had just seen inside the mansion.

The man knew he had to report it, even if it was some sort of mistake and he hadn't seen what he thought he had. Perhaps it wasn't even her. Perhaps it was someone else and they just happened to look similar. As much as he tried to convince himself it was some sort of mistake, the man knew in his heart that it wasn't, and he could possibly be that young girl's only chance.

Shrugging his coat higher up on his neck the man trudged quickly through the cold, heading in the direction of the police station. Pushing through the door he let out a huff at seeing the sign propped up on the sheriff's desk saying they'd be back in an hour, most likely breaking up another fight between the fishermen down at the pier. Stepping back outside the postman made his way to the other side of town where he knew he could get a hot drink and some food while he waited on the sheriff and his deputy to return.

The bell dinged overhead as he entered Mr. Steward's empty shop, the awkward time between lunch and normal people getting off work leaving the place completely abandoned. The postman offered the elderly man a smile and a nod, perusing the daily selection of pastries.

"Good afternoon to you Marcus. What can I get you?" Mr. Steward smiled kindly, resting his elbows on top of the display case as he waited on the other man to choose what he wanted to eat.

"I'll take a turkey and cheese and a black coffee Tim. Unless you've got anything stronger than coffee back there." The postman chuckled humorlessly, running a hand across his face tiredly.

"Rough day?" Mr. Steward asked, offering to listen without prying.

"You could say that." Marcus sighed. "I'm waiting on the sheriff to get back. I think I might have seen that missing girl."

Mr. Steward balked, turning his full attention onto the other man. He had been the one go to y/n's home and determine something had probably happened to his young friend. He had gone to the police and they had finally deemed her officially missing, putting up posters to ensure the rest of the town knew of her disappearance and to be aware of the unspoken implications.

"You saw y/n? Where?"

"Uh, I don't know. It looked like it could be her but I couldn't tell for sure. I only saw her for a second. She was in that old crone's house up on the hill. She looked scared." Marcus rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head as if embarrassed to be discussing this. "Like I say it might not even be her. I could be overreacting but it looked like her and that woman didn't seem to want me to see her."

Mr. Steward was quiet for a minute, thinking about what the other man had just said. He knew the girl didn't really have friends, let alone be willingly hanging around the creepiest, most reclusive person in town, and there most likely was something more going on.

"You're doing the right thing Marcus. Even if it isn't her, it's best to let the police find out what's going on." Mr. Steward encouraged the other man, handing over his sandwich and cup of coffee. Before the postman could walk off to find a table Mr. Steward took two of the paper cups and pulled out a bottle of whiskey from underneath the counter in a private drawer, pouring a drink for each of them without another word.

Finishing his food while checking his watch every 30 seconds, Marcus finally decided the cops should have returned to the station by now. Bidding the old man farewell he stepped back out into the cold, hunching his shoulders against the bite in the air. Considering it was nearing the end of Winter it was still damn cold out, a few snow flurries blowing across the island as the clouds darkened, a late year snow storm imminent.

The rest of the village was smart enough to have taken refuge indoors as the sun went down and the weather took a turn for the worst and the trek back to the other side of town was a lonely one. Marcus couldn't help but feel a little bit unnerved by the lack of other people around and kept glancing around anxiously, assuming his paranoia to be nothing.

He ducked down a cobbled street between two large buildings, the thick brick walls shielding him from part of the wind and leaving him enshrouded in shadows as he made his way towards the center of town. However, due to the wind rushing past his ears the man never heard someone following him, stalking him into the shadows between the buildings. No one was around to even hear his final scream as a cloth was pressed tightly over his face, forcing him into blissful unconsciousness.

A/N: Well.. uh.. hey guys 😅