The Last Corvus (completed)

Ch. 3 Isadora

Chapter 3

Isadora

I wake up in a room I don't recognize, lying on a couch, covered in a soft blanket. Looking around the room, I see Linden asleep in a reclined Lay-Z-Boy. He looks so peaceful when he's asleep. Almost as if he can sense that I'm awake and watching him, and maybe he can, he opens his eyes and smiles at me groggily. Something unexpectantly warm pangs inside of me. Huh?

"What time is it?" I ask him. He looks around, realizes there isn't a clock, and turns to what looks like a black Rolex on his wrist.

"It's almost ten."

"Ten! AM or PM?" Afraid I already know the answer, I wait anxiously for his response.

"In the morning, why?" he asks quizzically.

"Oh no! I'm late for work!" Flinging myself off the couch, my leg gets the blanket wound around it and I almost crash into the low table in front of me. In a flash he's beside me, grabbing my arm as my nose grazes its glass surface.

"Why don't you take the day off?" With his help I sit back on the couch.

"I can't! I've already used up all my sick days and I'm behind on rent."

"Why don't you move in here, then?" When he sees my look of confusion, he explains, "Well, you don't seem to be in a condition to work after the shock that you've had, and you're still being threatened by other vampires."

He has a good point about the vampires, but what shock? Oh, finding out about what I am would probably qualify; plus there's the blood loss I'm still slightly dizzy from. How much did they take? Even with all that, it's not enough to risk my job. Pretending to scratch my neck, I feel for the telltale puncture wounds. Finding none, I silently sigh and see Linden trying to sit next to me on the couch. I shoot him a "what do you think you're doing?" look and he pulls over his chair instead.

"Okay, if I'm going to be living here now, what am I going to do with my stuff?" I have to admit, I'm kind of thrilled by the idea.

"Don't worry about it, we'll get it later. Want to watch TV?" I look around for a TV but can't find any. Seeing me looking, he presses a button that makes the wall opposite us light up. I turn to see no projector behind us and he explains that it's a new kind of fiber optics designed by one of the people living at the Complex.

Right when we're at the good part of a vacuum infomercial (when they're doing the demonstrations) a bell rings. Linden gets up to answer the door and I notice that he's changed clothes since yesterday. Does he live here, too? Is this part of his room?

Hearing Dr. Jones' voice, I look up to see Linden closing the door, ending my being able to see his grey sweats and black tee. Still looking at the door, I notice he didn't completely close it, an infinitesimal crack visible.

After waiting a few seconds to make sure he isn't coming back immediately, I quickly tiptoe to the door, my curiosity getting the best of me. Pressing my ear to the crack, I can barely make out the conversation being held by the two men on the other side. Linden suggests that I move in here and gives the same reasons he's already given me.

"Linden, I know how much you care for her, and I agree that It's not safe. The tests came back positive; we might finally have a cure. We do need her for a few more tests, though. I don't know how many others know about what she is, but she could be in danger the rest of her life. I agree with you, she should move in here. And don't worry; I'll make sure the others wouldn't dare touch her. We can put her in the carpet room, Winna just finished it and she's been waiting for someone to try it out."

Wait, there are other people here? The place looked empty when we arrived. I wonder how many people there are; and who is Winna? And what's with the carpet room? I've heard people call rooms 'the blue room' or 'the great room', the 'the carpet room' is weird. It's like naming a room 'the couch room.'

Whatever.

Hearing Linden walking back to the door, I quickly turn and pretend to be examining a painting of an extremely boring sailboat. He doesn't seem to notice I'm putting up an innocent front. Soon we're getting ready to leave.