Chains » vampire l.t.

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

June's POV

"You're right, I don't," Louis said through his teeth, and then he was gone again in a blur. I frowned. What was that all about? And why did he look like a muddy hobo?

I heard the unmistakable sounds of retching, and I winced. Why was he throwing up? Was it even possible for vampires to throw up? Or even get sick?

I tried blocking out the sounds and surveyed the items on the floor. There was food, body cleansers, and clothes. All that I had asked for. He really did do it.

I noticed that there were even some perfumes, but when I held one up to my nose and inhaled deeply, it smelled like something an old lady would buy.

I took a closer look, and saw that the clothes were old lady clothes. Did Louis rob a nursing home?! I was suddenly glad that he was sick. Karma had struck.

I rushed to the window to see Louis sitting down against a tree. His head was down so I couldn't see his face. He was silent. I think he was even trembling slightly. I almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

I picked up some clothes and threw down my sheets. I changed quickly and sprayed some old lady perfume on me. Hopefully I smelled better now. At least I didn't stink so much that I could smell myself.

I started folding clothes and putting food items away. I used the sheets as dust rags and dusted the cabinets and their insides. When I was satisfied, I put the food inside. I glanced nervously at the stove. Now if I only knew how to operate it....

I had noticed that there was a lot of Italian foods, which I thought was kind of weird. I mean, I love Italian and Mexican foods, but how would Louis know that? Maybe he didn't. But why would he collect a bunch of Italian stuff when all he eats and drinks is blood?

"I hope you like Italian food," a voice rasped behind me, and I jumped. I spun around to see Louis staring at me thoughtfully. I felt sick when I saw that his nose and mouth were streaming red. He didn't seem to notice.

"I used to," he added bitterly. I gulped and looked away. I guess that answered my question.

"Louis, why were you sick?" I found myself asking.

"Human food," he spat. "It makes me sick. I hate it."

I stared at him. And yet he got some for me anyway?

"Stop looking at me weird," he said, glancing away. I blushed red and looked down.

"Do you know how to cook?" I asked.

He stared at me again. "Think about that question real hard," he said. "I'm a vampire. I don't cook! I think the last time I turned a stove on was three hundred years ago!"

Now it was my turn to stare at him again. "Louis, how old are you?" I asked quietly.

He looked thoughtful, then confused. "I... I don't know," he admitted. He looked sad. "I don't even remember my date of birth. Birthdays kind of lose their touch when you live forever."

Now I actually kind of did feel bad for him. He was so old, he couldn't even remember how old he was!

"Why do you look like a hobo?" I asked.

"Does it matter?" he retorted. "And what's with all these questions? I got your things. Be grateful."

I bristled. Be grateful?! Be grateful?! Was he insane? He trapped me here, unable to see my family ever again, and he expected me to be "grateful"?

"Grateful?" I hissed, voicing my thoughts aloud. "You want me to be grateful?! You must be joking! You trapped me here with you, never to escape, and you blackmail me and threaten me all the time! Heck, you almost KILLED me when you promised you wouldn't! You drank my blood! And I'm supposed to be 'grateful'?"

I was breathing a little heavily as I shot these words out of my mouth, but Louis didn't look at all surprised by my little outburst.

I grabbed all of my new clothes and toiletries and stomped past him, sticking my nose up in the air as I went.

"Oh, and by the way," I added, glancing back. "You have spit-up all over your face." Feeling satisfied with that, I stormed up the stairs and into my room.

*~*~*~*

That felt really good, telling him all that. He deserved it. He deserved to know how I felt about all this. And he was only benefitting himself. It was never about me, or my family, or even his victims. It's all about him. What's best for him, and nobody else.

No wonder he's all alone.

Who would want to befriend a creature like him?

I felt really good as I hopped into the shower again and washed myself up with my new cleansers. For once my hair felt smooth and silky, not actually wet-like with grease and sweat. It was relieving to know that I smelled nice again. I pulled on some old lady clothes.

I realized I forgot to ask Louis about that. Did he really rob a nursing home? I hoped not.

A dumpster? I sniffed my clothes. No, they smelled okay.

A hobo? No, like I said before, they smelled okay and they looked too nice for something a hobo would wear.

And what was all that about? Why was Louis dressed like an old hippie that took a soak in a mud bath? Before he left he was looking trim. Maybe he had encountered some mobs with pitchforks and flaming torches on the way. Or a puddle. Who knows? It wasn't my problem. What really mattered was that he got it for me.

I paused. Despite it all, he had gotten it for me. He had gotten dirty to find me some simple human necessities.

That's... weird. What had I ever done for him? I was a nuisance to drag around and watch over. I complained about hunger and thirst and stink. The only thing I'd given him was my blood.

He could have killed me.

But he didn't.

I suddenly felt bad about my anger at Louis. If you think about it (like I just did), he'd been providing for me in his own quiet, cold little way. And all I'd done was complain. I should apologize to him. And thank him. I can't believe I was about to apologize and thank a vampire.

But wait.... If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be in this mess in the first place.

I grabbed at my hair and pulled at it. Urgh, too many thoughts! I was thinking too much. Let's just say I was pissed at Louis and stick with that. Okay, fine.

But I couldn't shake these feelings I had.