Bloodbank

Five

I woke up, hours later, in a locked bathroom. When I initially tried to stand, I collapsed on the floor, unaware of the amount of blood I had lost. Instead, I crawled into the bathtub and steadied my breathing. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know why these people wanted me. I didn't kno-

"I say we drink her, it's better than any of your vintage stuff"

A low voice on the other side of the door broke my train of thought. I immediately recognised the first voice as the street vendor, and I assumed he was talking to his friend from earlier.

"What if we take her to the bloodbank? There's gotta be a good reward, that's where those traders were headed,"

"Or we harvest her ourselves"

A tear slipped down my cheek as I realised I was even more done for than I was with Scott. I had gotten myself into this mess; slipped that I was type O and then abandoned Mason and ran right into their hands. I should've listened to him, should've kept quiet. Now I had no way to get myself out of the hopeless situation.

Or did I?

Looking through the minuscule window at the top of the room, I saw that it was still daytime. The sun was low in the sky, meaning I had been out for a few hours, but dusk wasn't too close. If I could lure them outside, where they were vulnerable, I'd have a chance.

But first I had to get them to unlock the door.

Climbing out of the bath, I began my search for something sharp, before my eyes landed on a razor. I ran the blade along my finger, drawing a small droplet of blood, that should be enough. I inhaled deeply, summoning my courage, before screaming, my throat dry but not stopping the guttural noise erupting from my throat.

It only took a few seconds for my captors to unlock the door, both standing in the doorway, not sure what to do as I clutched my stomach, feigning an illness of some kind, hoping they would get me outside.

"Her finger," one of them muttered, licking his lips.

"Stop it," the clerk shook his friend, "maybe she's hungry,"

He pulled me out of the bathroom, revealing a hotel room not unlike the one I was in before with Scott, and he handed me a banana from a fruit bowl, his friend's hand clamped down on my bleeding finger. I sat on one of the beds, closest to the covered window.

"Just one drop," his friend begged as I unpeeled the banana and took a bite out of it.

"No!" The clerk yelled, shoving his friend backwards and onto the floor.

Everything seemed to stop at that moment.

The clerk punched his friend with an astounding force, and I took that distraction to throw myself off the bed and towards the window, my legs feeling like jelly, as I ripped open the curtains.

The bright light of the setting sun blinded me momentarily, the painful afterimage set into my eyelids as I tried to force open the locked window. Both men were staring at me, still in the shadows, but I could see their maniacal grins.

Stepping into the light from the window, one of them grabbed my arm, his face instantly burning red in the sunlight.

"No!" I screamed, and as they dragged me away from the window, I could've sworn I saw a figure on the rooftop.

My fingers clawed at the carpet, desperate for escape, as they dragged me into the shadows, one of them licking the blood from my finger, the other clamping a hand over my mouth.

It hadn't gone the way I expected.

"She's too much trouble, I say we just drink her," one man said between breaths, his teeth dripping with my blood. My head felt woozy, the room spinning.

But even feeling like I was drunk, it would've been hard to miss the bullets flying through the glass window, and hitting the vendor in the head, killing him instantly and shattering the glass like a waterfall.

"Was this you?" His friend backed away from me, clambering behind the bed in fear of the unknown shooter. Frozen with fear, I scrambled against the wall as more bullets sailed through the window, hitting the vampire.

Squinting up at the figure on the roof, I saw him lower a massive gun and begin clambering down the roof.

It took me a few minutes to recover from the shock, the two dead men lying next to me not helping in the situation, a black substance slowly pouring from the expertly placed bullet holes in the centre of their foreheads.

Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing the person I least expected.

"Mason?"