Sinful Pleasure

20

Read Authors Note at the end. It's very important!

T W E N T Y

"Wh-... what are you doing to me?" My words seemed slurred and disorientated as they stumbled over each other out of my mouth. Mushed together all in one that even for a second I myself couldn't comprehend what I was saying. I guessed that my idle behavior was due to the feeling of fear pulsing through my body, but mostly it was from the drugs that they forcefully gave me. The same one that Dr. Walsh happened to give me just earlier that day... or maybe it was yesterday. I couldn't quiet tell. "Where are we?"

Question after question, I'd ask and shamelessly beg for an answer... but no one would comply. I felt invisible, as if I weren't even there. Just the feeling alone made me feel as if I were back at the holding cells waiting to be auctioned off all over again. That plus the shackles that were bound to my ankles and wrists. The metal was made of steel, freckled with aging spots of rust. It felt like sandpaper as it rubbed against my skin. Painful and highly uncomfortable.

Despite this though, I didn't pay it much mind... not as I did the metal table that I was lying on. You know the same ones that a coroner uses while dressing and cleaning off the body of a dead person... that kind of metal table. It was stained with blood that's been there for who knows how long, and there were deep claw marks edged in both sides where my hands rest. As if someone... or more so, something was trying to free itself.

I never liked to admit that I was scared, or afraid; but in this moment I knew that even I couldn't fool myself by not doing so. Because no matter how many times I tried or wanted to deny it, I was truly petrified.

"Please." I whispered. That one word alone was enough to have my voice cracking. My eyes stinging with unshed tears of helplessness. "Please, just-.. just let me go." I was pleading, for what had to have felt like the hundredth time since my life turnt to sh*t. Pleading for my life. For my freedom. But no matter how many times I pleaded, no matter how many times I cried for them to just let me go, no matter how many times I harshly yanked against these chains in hopes that they'd possibly break, no matter how many times I'd wish that these past two days had never happened... I knew that nothing was going to change. That nothing was going to go the way that I'd hoped it would.

"Oh my dear there's no need for tears here." As Cane appeared in the doorway, his stance overpowering and presence nearly suffocating; I couldn't help but notice his eyes dance with some sick form of amusement. Amusement for me being in pain and being miserable. Or was it for my suffering perhaps. "We're not going to kill you. We actually need you." With his hands formally resting behind his back, Cane slowly moved to stand near the metal table that I was resting on. His eyes slowly glazing over my body before settling to rest on my own.

His eyes were intimidating and I wanted nothing more then to look away, but I didn't. "Being that you've obtained some sort of residency in the home of the Petrovics... I'm assuming you know what they are." Cane didn't state this as a question but a mere fact of knowing.

I found myself hesitant to imply that he was indeed correct, only due to my curiosity of knowing how he could possibly know what the Petrovics are himself. Cane and his men seem very independent and seem to be doing pretty fair on their own. I couldn't imagine them to be succumbed to a vampire, forced to bid their every waking command.

"Vampires." The word alone seemed as if it were laced with venom as it slipped through his lips. "Heartless and shallow creatures aren't they? Only thinking of their own and themselves." Shaking his head Cane looked back at the two men that seemed to be guarding the door. "John here had a run in with one just a while ago, and Loui here was cornered by a dozen." Sighing, Cane then turned his attention back to me. "Would of lost his life had it not been for the pack showing up when they did."