It Can't Be

The Escape

I cleared my throat and raised my eye brow,

"what?"

"Well you didn't want me reading your mind so you ask the questions. I'm not a savage, if you ask I'll most likely allow." I shook my head slightly. His chivalry was enough to laugh at.

"What is the knife." I asked as more of a statement than a question, I figured I needed to have some guts if I was going to survive.

"Ah I figured that would come up. The knife is called 'The ultimate'. It's kind of self explanatory. It is ultimate and can kill any creature known on earth. It has a magical quality that is extremely toxic to most beings. I would love to have it in my possession so they cannot kill me and I can kill who I please." I nodded absorbing everything he said. Who knew you could kill the undead?

"Can vampires be killed by anything other than the knife?" He chuckled,

"Now why would I tell you that?"

"You said-"

"I said most likely. Next question." I gulped slightly at the sharpness of his tone but continued.

"How do you become a vampire?" He nodded a little as he was thinking.

"You must drink the blood of a vampire then die with it in your system. Once you've come back from being dead you have 48 hours to drink blood before you die again." I gave him a dumb founded look,

"You made me drink it!?" He chuckled with an evil glint in his eyes.

"You better be on your best behavior then." I subconsciously moved towards the other end of the room slightly and nodded.

"What other creatures exist?" He put a finger to his chin and looked up as if trying to grasp a thought.

"Well there's witches, nasty little things, fairies, werewolves, also nasty, uhm... oh! Also sirens and ghosts. It's quite a strange world we live in." I stared at him with my jaw hung. How can so many things exist without our knowledge??

"Yes yes, now this is a lot to digest so you should go back to your room now, come along." He stood and held his hand out for me to grab. Hesitantly I put my hand in his and stood up, following his every move. Once back in the room he shut the door and moved to the closet.

"In here there's some games, a bit old for you but they'll do. There's also paper and pencils if you like to write or draw whatever. There's also some more modern clothes. I would hate to be inhospitable." I nodded slowly and waited for him to speak again.

"What happened to your fire piccolo angelo. You were much more fun earlier." He reached for my chin and lifted my face. His eyes fluctuated in a dangerous yet attractive way,

"Don't you want me around?" I found myself nodding without meaning to. I tried to stop myself as he leaned in and I followed. It was like my mind was a fog and he was the only warmth. My eyes fluttered closed as I felt his hot breath on my lips. STOP DAMMIT! He pulled away allowing the fog in my head to clear. I pushed him even further away and put my back to the wall.

"Addio angelo." I took some time to regain my breath and composure before stalking towards the closet. I grabbed a t-shirt and black cloth shorts, put them on, then continued to rummage through the small space. There were many games like chess and checkers, and also many marble games. None seemed to interest me so I grabbed the pencils, paper, and a book and laid on the floor. The back of my shirt hiked up and I threw my hair into a pony tail. I started with some rough sketches of hands and eyes before moving on to drawing a full face. I got lost in the drawing and before I knew it, the sketch turned into Elijah. I sighed at the picture of his face. I had made stray hairs fall out of his slicked back hair and shaded his broad chin. I missed him. Although I barely knew him and we were basically strangers (and had the weirdest teacher/student bond) but he was the nicest person I had met in a long time. It would be wrong to say the only nice person I know because I have my family and Jennie but he was different. He wasn't nice to me because we had been friends forever or family, he was nice to me because he liked ME. He likes a shy, insecure, below the mark girl with red out-of-sorts hair and green eyes. There's just something poetic about the whole thing.