The Vampire Prince

Surprising discoveries

No matter what it may seem like, I am definitely not going to see the vampire because I want to. I am definitely not going to see him because of some silly desire to see him and definitely not because I like the banter that passes between us. I am only going because of guilt, because I have a conscious that demands I don't let him stave to death, if there is a away for me to prevent it. That is the only reason why I am heading towards his cell now, with a plastic cup filled half-way to the brim, with my blood.

The walk to his cell was quick and uneventful. The guards, that usually pass by around this time, are lax in their duties because of the cold temperatures, the weather here changing quickly and without warning. Instead, opting to remain by the fire at the watch towers a few kilometres north from here. My feet, clothed in warm winter sock and boots, making no sound as I stalk across the grass to the cemented cell that holds the asshole.

Moving closer, I see that he is already waiting for me beside the window, his hand held out, for the cup, a smug grin adorning his face. With a growl of annoyance, I shove the cup towards him. "Hurry up and drink," I mutter angrily. He just chuckles, taking his time in bringing the cup up to his mouth and sipping at the drink slowly. I growl in frustration, bring my arms up and around my upper torso, hoping to preserve the little warmth I have left. "You know, not all of us are immune to cold temperatures," I snap at him.
"That, my little bird, is what makes this all the more entertaining," he chuckles, tossing me the empty cup.
With a snarl of anger I snatch the cup out of the air and turning on my heel, I stomp through the tall, thick weeds that litter most, if not all, of the lawn. Momentarily forgetting of the dangers of my night time adventures.

That jerk who the hell does he think he is talking to me like that. After all I've done and risked for him. Ugh, he can go die in a hole for all I care. I am never going back to feed him, he can starve.

Shutting the door behind me, careful to ensure no sound is made. I move to the sink and take care in scrubbing the cup clean and removing any trace of the crimson substance from it. After drying the cup, I place it back on the shelf from which I got it, making sure it's in the exact same place as it was before. Normally I wouldn't be so specific with were I put things, but the chef had a really good memory and was very specific with where things went.

As I tip toed up the stairs, heading towards the entrance to my 'room', I thought about the vampire and wondered how he got there. I mean, I know werewolves and vampire hate each other and are constantly fighting with each other, but why was he there and not dead. From what I've been told of the war, there are usually no prisoners taken, well more like they can't control their wolves long enough for them to be able to take a prisoner. So, why was he there and how had he been captured?

****

Yawning, I stretched my arms up above my head and arched my body. Hearing a few clicks I slumped back down onto my bed. Turning my head, I stared at the luminescent numbers displayed across my alarm clock, my brain taking a moment to register the time.
"Shit, I'm late," I yelp, as I scramble out of my warm, comfortable bed. Darting into the bathroom I quickly scrub myself clean, before shutting of the shower and racing to get dressed.

***

"I know, I know," I say to the angry librarian. "My alarm clock forgot to grace me with its presents thus morning, so I slept in, but I promise to make it up to you."
"I know ya will lassie. Now in the back there are some books, I want you to start unloading them." He replies.
I offer him a smile and start towards the back storage area. Moving among the ginormous stacks of book, each with its own specific place amongst the over stocked shelves, I look for new books to read that I have yet to get my hands on. Trailing my hands along the spines of the books I occasionally pick one out and read the blurb, then either adding it to the on growing pile of books or placing back on the shelf.
Finally reaching the storage room, I place the collected books down on the deep brown coloured shelf by the doorway, before moving over to the numerous boxes, containing books that we don't have room to fit. With a heavy sigh I start opening and unpacking the newly ordered books.

It takes me five hours to unpack, sort and stack half of the boxes in the storage room, by which leaves me with only a thirty minute lunch break. Deciding to keep looking for more books to read, I move from the storage room and head towards the back of the library. Twisting my body to the side, I edge between the tables poised in the middle of the library, navigating my way through the people reading, working on laptops and studying for the upcoming school tests. Seeing Kylie, the pack's slut and Xavier's number one whore, strutting into the library, I make a mad dash for the back section, it being off limits to all but staff. Ignoring her calling my name, I slip down the furtherest isle and making numerous twist and turns, lose myself in the safety of the bookshelves.

***

To me each book is a new world filled with different creatures and plants, waiting to be discovered. Is a new dream that's been created for those who feel that they don't fit in, who want something more in their lives that they themselves can't get. Reading is a magical experience. You get to experience many different worlds and go on mind-blowing adventures in said worlds. You get to meet these amazing people and fall in love with those people. You get to watch them go through incredible experiences and go on amazing journeys, on the way to discovering who they are and what their purpose is. That is why I'm constantly reading. Not only do I get to escape my hell of a life but I get to see and do these incredible things, even if only in my mind.

***

Wandering down the isles I look at every book I come across. Brushing my hands across the spines and blowing over the surface of the shelves to remove the dust that has gathered over time.

As I'm walking though I stumble across a section that I've never seen before, let alone entered. Moving into the open space, I see a pedestal in the centre with an old and worn looking book across it. Looking around I see a table to the right hand corner with a single chair pushed in, a lamp in the centre of the table pushed back right to the edge. The only entrance to the area the doorway I just passed through, otherwise just dark brown, wooden walls.

Moving towards the book, I step up so that I'm standing in front of the pedestal, looking down on the book. Blowing across the top of the book, I accidentally stir up a storm of dust, shown just how old and forgotten this book truely is. Peering closer I see the title reads:
The Supernatural World History.
With a sudden glee, I pick up the book and move towards the table, eager to learn about the supernatural world I've come across.