Lost In Time

Change

So now we are getting into the chapters where there are parts I feel that aren't as...strong as they could be, grammatically. If you see a problem, please let me know! - Mac

I woke up to the bustling of a kitchen, and foreign swear words. I opened my eyes to find people bustling about, completely ignoring my presence. Maybe because I wasn't there. I quickly stood up, looking back at the spot-less floor I had previously been sitting on, some sort of very expensive tile. As I looked around the kitchen, yawning and eyeing the plates of many strange appetizers and entrees being cooked and delivered out the big wooden doors, it became apparent that no one could see me. I was in someone else's memory. Stretching out my sore arms, I followed the harried waiters dressed in antique-looking clothing out the doors, deciding to join the flow of people.

I was in some sort of fancy palace, probably in Italy or Rome. The architecture just had that feel. I yawned once more, rubbed my eyes, stretched a bit. Then tapped into my senses, fingers going to my necklace. I felt the whisper of magic pulling me to my left, so I opened my eyes and followed the flow of people. Down two flights of stairs into the basement and through a series of doors later, we all stopped. I stood on my tiptoes and peered over everyone's heads. A huge set of heavy iron doors blocked our entry, and scowl-faced guards with halberds checked the line. As they came closer I realized their belts, partially hidden under ruby cloaks and leather armor, were stocked with stakes, bulbs of garlic, crosses, and little vials of holy water. So this was about vampires.

A few minutes later they eventually let us in, and we began shuffling forward like a prisoner line. The room was a magnificently large, luxurious ballroom with a large table set for over a hundred, with many of the guests strolling around, conversing. I stared in horror at the dresses, more like ballroom gowns, like big puffy umbrellas for skirts. The hair was atrocious. High curls, fake wigs – I wanted to gag. Thank the Lord they can't see me. I didn't think my oversized shirt and boxers would blend in well.

Once again, the whisper of magic stirred my feet into action, and I left the relative safety of the line of people, and branched off on my own, eyes intent to observe. I quickly found there to be three separate groups. The nobles, who looked the most at ease, but with fear oozing off of them, breaking the charade. Dressed in silks and robes, with no weapons to protect them or armor, I would've been scared too. There wasn't very many of them.

The next group was simple, as vampires stalked the crowd, the lapel on their custom-tailored tail-jackets marking them with a single black rose made it that much more obvious. The group had called themselves The Black Rose (obviously) and were like the Mafia in today's modern world. Their leader had been unknown to the world, and they had scared a lot of people. But even as scared as the nobles were, the gents soon began to fall under the wiles of the charismatic vampires, and I saw more than one flash of fang. It wasn't exactly a confidence booster that I was here now, even invisible.

The final group was stoic, tense, and armed to the teeth under their hunter attire, all black. But it wasn't any of this that caught my attention, but the children with them. Eyes I had seen just hours ago, on innocent faces I had never seen before. Grey silver. Dimitri's. My heart began to speed up, but before I could question this anymore, a noble rang a small dinner bell, and the tension spiked. Everyone began to stiffly walk to the tables, sitting down. The children were placed in the middle, the most heavily guarded. But why even bring children into such a dangerous situation anyway? What kind of parents were these? My eyes were pulled to the one left standing, at the head of the table, eyes coolly staring at me, with eyes that were once again familiar. I felt a presence behind me, and someone with cool minty fresh breath whispered in my ear.

"Sorry, little bite, but if you wanted in my head, you should've asked." Dracula humorously whispered, stepping around me fluidly, while brandishing a red quill. The leader of the hunters was now holding a scroll, and the magic screamed at me. The quill and the scroll. A binding contract. Dracula's hand covertly pushed me, hard, and I flew back towards the wall. "HEY!" I yelled indignantly, then everything went into slow motion as I slipped back to my time. Knives pressing to palms, the quill being dipped in the blood. The last thing I saw was Dracula's coat button winking at me.