Enslaved (ON HOLD INDEFINITELY)

Chapter 28

Here's a new chapter for ya'all! The next will be more action packed i promise you! Please i just ask for one favor, and that is to leave comments, tellin' me what you think. Voting is NOT neccessary because all i want to know is what you guys think so i can make the story better for ya'all! Thank you once again for the support! Loves. XOXO- Aric. p/s, follow me on twitter if you want to!! (Just click external link!)

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Chapter 28

The air was dry and filtered, where I stood, in the kitchen.

 I was doing nothing in particular just lingering around trying my best to avoid her. She, too, looked vacant as she stared on at the hologram monitor screen, running a command line that seem to have windows popping like crazy on the screen.

The taste of her blood…was still there, on my tongue, the wound on my neck, throbbing, slowly healing itself. I knew it was reckless of me, to stab myself but I knew it was the only way to snap myself out of it. I could’ve killed her whenever I pleased, especially when I was in that state. If she only knew, such stupidity, spilling blood in front of a vampire, she’s just signing her own death wish considering how deep underground we are and how hidden this place is.

But she came through though. The moment I got that knife in, she was all over me, sacrificing her expensive Chanel office suit to stop me from losing too much blood. I healed of course, in a matter of minutes, to her astonishment; guess she didn’t understand vampires are well as I thought she did. From that moment on, fear turned into tears of fury very quickly and she went bezerk, yelling at me for ‘scaring her like that’. It didn’t really help, that I actually laughed at her reaction.

She ended up slapping me in the face and vented her anger, banging on the CIA commissioned computer’s touch keyboard, sifting through surveillance cameras based in locations that shouldn’t be there in the first place.

Now, it’s just a game of who snaps first and apologizes.

Speaking of which, here she comes turning around the revolving chair. She looked at me with a sour expression on her face and sighed. “You could’ve at least warned me, you know,” she mumbled.

I shook my head, putting down both my arms, letting the marble counter support my weight. “Trust me, when I go into that sort of state, I’ll be lucky to produce coherent words.”

She sucked in a deep breath, and rolled back to the monitor, leaving me staring after her, with an apology teetering on the edge of my tongue. I let it go and shut my mouth, moving over to the fridge. I opened it to find stacks of raw meat in shrink-wrap, cartons of milk and surprise, surprise, a dozen bottles of beer. Thank you, government workers with a sense of humor.

I grabbed a bottle, popping it open with ease, taking a swig of it while walking over to the second research station beside the first, same with a holoprojection screen and a embedded keyboard. I saw down next to her and downed half of it before settling it down on the brushed aluminum surface.

She look skeptically at me and the bottle of beer, “Are you even legal yet, kid?”

“I am 19, and oh wait, a vampire who doesn’t age or get drunk. So, you calm your horses down now.” I said, going through the database, searching up previous records, way back to 9/11 for names of terrorists, their descendants, newbies, anything, my near photographic brain, recording down all the 157 possible suspect’s names and general records in under two minutes. You would expect some to be elders who seem to be closed about the new world order but instead, its teens about my age, give or take, fresh out of college with the thinking that destroying the lives of innocent humans will bring them to heaven.