The Cold Ones

Chapter Nineteen - Rescued

I don’t know how long it’s been. Two, maybe three days since I’ve been locked in this large room, with no food or water. I don’t even get a chance to go to the bathroom. It’s amazing that I didn’t die of starvation yet.

There’s blue and black bruises all over my legs and arms. I’m not quite sure what my face looks like, but I know that it’s not pretty.

Click. Click. Click.

There’s Ruby’s heels clicking on the floor.

The heavy iron door swung open.

‘Oh, you’re up.’ She had a smirk on her face.

I didn’t reply to her question, instead I looked at her outfit.

She was wearing a plain white sleeveless vest, a dark red skirt that had a train tailing behind her, it was short in the front, revealing her long legs. And for shoes she wore black heels that were so high it looked like she was about to keel over.

She touched one of my bruises.

I winced from the pain.

‘I see that you can still feel.’ Ruby said dryly.

I made my eyes stare down at her black heels.

‘You’re dying, you know. I haven’t given you water or food or let you go the bathroom for three days. Then again, what can you pee out since I didn’t feed you?’ she laughed cynically.

My throat was too dry to say a word.

‘Maybe I should just kill you, put you out of your misery.’ She said sarcastically.

I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. My eyes were too raw for tears.

‘How is it that you still look presentable even though I’ve beaten you to a pulp?’ she asked disgustedly.

I looked out the door, but she grabbed my chin and forced me to look at her.

I looked into her wild eyes and suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for Ruby. She looked alone. Unwanted. Unloved.

She exhaled loudly and let go of my chin.

‘You know I wasn’t always like this. Okay, maybe I was.’ She paced around the room.

I just looked lost. Was she going to tell a story?

‘I guess it all started when I was thirteen. The year was 1626, in Portugal. That’s where I come from, you know. Anyway, I always felt different, like I didn’t belong here with these people. I wanted to be stronger, be more powerful. There was this boy, in my village, and I heard of his stories about the cold ones that roamed in our town. It turns out he was one of them. A vampire.

‘I’d heard all about them, vampires. I wanted him to turn me. Badly. The boy, his name was Alfredo; he was four or five years older than me. At first he thought I was just a mere child, but then he realized I could be of worth to him.

‘He didn’t turn me right away, he took three long years teaching me, preparing me. When he turned me, I killed him. “I don’t need you anymore, Alfredo.” I laughed over his body.

‘I fled from my family; I promised that I’d return one day, but not too soon. I went over; all over, killing, draining people of their blood. And now, 384 years later, I don’t regret it. I feel more alive. Stronger. Powerful. That’s all I wanted. But, along the way, I got lonely. I didn’t want someone at my side, but when I came across this little town of Earnest Peaks and met Ian, I felt differently.’ She was sitting on the dirty floor as she told the story.