Vampire Residence

III

The words were spoken in the woman's strange language, but the sorrow and regret in her voice was palpable. Even in her semi-conscious state, Eleanor could feel the weight of the woman's guilt. She had no idea what the woman was apologizing for, but the sorrow in her voice was undeniable.

Then, just as the darkness threatened to consume her completely, she felt two sharp pricks on the side of her neck.

There was pain- a searing, burning pain that caused her to cry out involuntarily- followed by a sense of numbness that spread through her body. The woman's face was still barely visible, her features twisted in a strange mixture of guilt, regret, and sorrow.

Eleanor tried to open her mouth to speak- to scream- but her body refused to cooperate. She was frozen, trapped in a nightmare from which there might be no escape.

The woman held her wrist to Eleanor's mouth, her panic only seeming to grow as she spoke again, more clearly this time, in a desperate yet commanding tone.

"Sorbi."

Drink.

The woman pressed her wrist to Eleanor's mouth, the warm, coppery scent of blood making her dizzy. Her mind was fuzzy, her body heavy and unresponsive.

The word echoed in her head, commanding and desperate. She could feel the woman's hand holding her head, tilting it backward slightly to allow better access to her lips.

"Drink."

The command was insistent, and Eleanor felt a flicker of fear. She didn't know why the woman wanted her to drink, didn't want to know what the coppery substance against her lips even was- but she was too weak to resist, her body already succumbing to whatever was happening.

She opened her mouth weakly, the woman's wrist now pressed against her tongue. The taste was metallic, bitter, and strange.

As Eleanor swallowed, her mind started to clear, the fog that had been weighing her down was lifting. The pain in her neck had lessened to a dull throb, and she could feel her limbs responding to her attempts to move them.

She pulled away from the woman's wrist, her eyes widening as she looked at the woman's face- or rather, her fangs.

The woman's eyes were still panicked, but there was a hint of satisfaction there as well as if she was relieved to see Eleanor regain some sense of consciousness. She pulled her wrist from Eleanor's lips, her other hand now cupping Eleanor's chin and tilting her face up to look at her.

"Drink more." Her voice was low, her words a command.

It was strange how she could suddenly understand what the woman was saying.

Eleanor's head was no longer as foggy as before, her mind becoming clearer with each passing moment. It was confusing, though. How was it that she could suddenly understand the woman, despite her speaking a language she had never heard before?

And why did she know exactly what the woman wanted?

Drink more.

As the woman's words echoed in her mind, the bitter, metallic taste still lingered in her mouth. She licked her lips slowly, feeling a strange sense of anticipation in her chest.

The woman's fingers were still gripping her chin, forcing her to look directly at her. There was a strange glimmer in her eyes, a mixture of determination and something else that Eleanor couldn't place.

The word echoed in her mind again, a command that she knew, on some level, that she had to obey.

Drink. More.