A Vampire's Slave

I

I wiped the wooden table in a slow circular motion, the white rag I use has small black stains and it scratches my hand with every use.

Suddenly a loud pitched scream comes from the master's bedroom. I only sigh, for I know it's only the blondie that entered the premises just hours ago. I told the blondie with blue eyes and the petite body to flee while she had the chance, but she only looked at me with disgust and asked what did I know, for I'm merely a maid.

And that's where she is incorrect. I am his slave. The mansion I work in, I know it from top to bottom, the only colors I see, besides my own is black and red. On occasions, I'll see some white, perhaps even orange, but black and red are the colors that hunt me.
I started to think my eyes have turned into that color, just like master's when he is ready for feeding time.
As I was saying, I get no pay, I eat scraps of food I find near about the house, I'm not allowed to leave the mansion, I wear the same two dresses day and night, I have a very small room that's in the back of the mansion, in it, holds my small mattress and blankets along with fabric I call my pillow.

My master says that I owe him, I owe him plenty, although he has never told me why. I've been working here for as long as I can remember. I'm not certain of my childhood, barely any of my teenage life, the last of my remembrance of teenage life is when I was just a mere 15 years old. But still back then I was told to do what I do now.
On a cliché note, I hate my master with a passion. I am to call him "Sir Mochief"
He beats me when I make the slightest mistake and he uses me for his pleasure.

This will continue for a long time because my master is a vampire, and I'm only a human.

It puzzles me because my master goes all the way to someplace and grab young girls, bring them here and do who-knows-what.
I am always told to stay downstairs when company is present. He prefers me to stay out of sight, but that is certainly hard when I am to clean the mansion from top to bottom every day.

I glance at the window in the dining area, which is where I am. A shadow appears, a shadow of something with long, hairy and pointy ears, a hairy face and a hairy body.
I shake my head, knowing it only the werewolves. The children werewolves that is, they are always lurking about near the mansion, however, it's ever rare for them to do it while my master is fully awake and tending to his business.

The children werewolves are a bit frightful, they look into the windows and stare at me. They stare for so long I become uncomfortable, that is when they howl, howl loudly.
The mansion is soundproof so I never hear but their snouts rise into the air.
My master hates it, he beats me for causing the attention of the werewolves, the werewolves pounces on the window, snarling at him, but my master hisses at them, and there is when they have a competition of who's the most intimating.
It's a constant pattern.
The hits from my master, the bruises, they are gone the next second so I tend not to cry as much.

By the looks my master gives when werewolves are spoken of, I can tell he hates them.

I wonder why my master is so cruel...haha, here I'll answer my own question.
My master was once in love, or so I've been told by his colleagues.
A lady, named Jane. It was told to be the most beautiful girl that my master has ever laid eyes on, as well as many other men, but Jane only wished to be with my master. My master's colleagues never mentioned anything else about her except that one day, she unexpectedly ran away, leaving no trace of her whereabouts, only a necklace that sparkles when the moonlight hits it. I've seen the necklace whenever I clean my master's room. It truly is a beauty. I imagine myself wearing it. If only I knew how I actually looked.

There are no mirrors in the home, the only way I am able to see myself is through reflections of things, such as the windows.
But, there is a room, my favorite room in the mansion and it holds three red couches with a brown coffee table giving space to the couches, a grand piano sits in the back of the room and in front of the room lays a black fireplace with a huge portrait of a lady-Jane, with ravishing red hair and blue eyes with a lighter shade of blue  up top of her eyes.  She seems so serious in the portrait, but her race held determination, power, and beauty.
I would be lying if I said I don't envy her. She's beautiful, one of my master's colleagues told me I look similar to her, minus the nose, for she had a long and narrow nose while my nose, which I've been told, is more out and squishy. My lips are a bit thicker, says my master when he flicks it with his thumb. He'd say,

"I could never do this with Jane's lips, her lips were too small. I thank your ancestors for your thick lips and thick hair. I can pull it as much as I want"

I suddenly hear bumping coming from the steps, seconds later I see the blondie girl running down the stairs and toward the black wooden double doors, holding onto the side of her neck with blood oozing through her fingers.

What possibly did my master do?
The blondie opens the doors and runs out the home, leaving one door open.

"Have a good one miss" I call out. I know she hadn't heard me but I still wish it upon her.
If only she had listened to me, she would not have been caught.

My master's runs after her. He goes into the dark...to finish her off?

A/N 

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