Bastille Imagines

Bite Down Pt. 3

After an excruciatingly silent walk to wherever your murderer leads you to, your knees finally give in; it's late at night, you've endured pain and torture and now you need to rest. Dan looks back to you, still holding your hand, looking you and up and down to see why you've abruptly stopped. You hope that by the look of pure exhaustion, he'll realise that you're physically limited and on the verge of collapsing. But he isn't a dumb guy. He already knows after one glance.

In a swift movement he jerks you closer to him and swings his arms under the crook of your knees and effortlessly hoists you into his arms and continues walking. His gentle breathing sends a breeze of cool air to your burning and flushed face. You can't deny the integrity buried deep inside you that there is no doubt that he maintains a certain charm that you allude to. And as bad as it sounds, you crave his touch, his voice, like he's brainwashed you into thinking that he somewhat flawless and faultless.

"You need blood," he breathlessly mutters, more rather to himself than you, but however you regard what could be wrong with you. You've finally came at your wits end; there is no way that you're drinking blood; the very thing that flows through you...well, did flow through you. The very thought of it makes you gag. How are you going to be able to adapt to this for the rest of your life?

You appear to be at an desolate and deprived street, not a living soul to roam the streets. It's eerily silent but it's deafening, with your new and advanced senses every intricate sound is a ear-splitting noise. As you cling onto Dan's neck he takes you to one of the abandoned houses that line the street. You can't say that you've seen this place before. Unfamiliar to you, you take in your surroundings taking into account all of the lifeless shops and the lack of energy.

"This is Devil's Drive," he says nonchalantly, not even peering down to look at you. "It's where I and several other vampires live. No other living soul would ever dare hang around this area."

"Why not?"

He sniggers at your query, shaking his head as if there was something obvious that you're missing.

"Well...they wouldn't last long here now would they?"

You hang your head low in embarrassment. Of course. Only you wouldn't catch on to that. Abruptly, he swings a left and into the darkness of some abandoned block of flats, only, it's not entirely abandoned. He sits you down against the mouldiness of the wall, still maintaining that position to that when you were in his arms. There's something about him that you've come to notice; with ravishing on your blood being an exception, there is a subtlety to him.

You begin to feel the effects of being dehydrated and you crave for something to drink. Dan kneels in front of you examining your eyes like he was questioning your mental state, looking right inside you as though your eyes were the windows to your mind. Your body lacks energy, your limp and lifeless limbs just lie there beside you unable to be controlled. You need something to drink or else something could go seriously wrong but what scares you is that you don't know what. This quench for thirst is driving you insane, something that you've never experienced thirst to be like. Sure you've had the occasional dehydration moment in your life, but nothing as insatiable as this.

You watch as Dan suddenly bites deep down into the flesh of his skin with an gut wrenching sound and hunger in his eyes all the while keeping you locked in their gaze. Eyes wide in shock as he doesn't even wince in pain. He releases immediately and violently shoves his wrist in your face. The blood pours out from his bite wound and dribbles off his hand in a taunting manner. You want to drink it, but in your mind you know it's morally wrong. And unhygienic if you must say so.