Werewolves and Vampires

Chapter 39: Caleb

I woke with a moan, my eyes twitching open. But I couldn’t see anything; everything was black. Panicked, I closed my eyes and opened them again until my vision returned. I took in a bright wild fire several feet away. My eyes darted around me, to the cave walls in the flickering fire light. There was that same, rusty, metallic scent of blood in the air and it took me a moment to realize that that scent was mostly coming from me.

I made a move to stand up, but my legs buckled before I could get further than a crouch. I fell forward, closing my eyes as I braced myself to hit the rocky floor face first. But I never did. I stopped abruptly, feeling a sudden, painful yank against my wrists that held me back. I let out a surprised yelp as I tried to adjust myself so there was nothing yanking on my wrists and pulling my arms backwards. I looked up. There were metal cuffs around my wrists. My eyes followed the thick chain attached to it, all the way until it ended at the wall, where it was bolted securely against the rocky surface.

I looked around the cave again, suddenly realizing how familiar it seemed to me. And then I remembered.

My nightmares.

This realization hit me like punch in the gut, and I felt panic well up inside me as I started to yank furiously on the metal cuffs. The metal never once gave out; they just cut into the skin on my wrists, making me bleed even more as it rubbed my skin raw.

I gave up, exhausted, slumping against the wall. Tears threatened as I realized that there was no immediate escape. All I could do now was wait.

********

“It’s about time you woke up,” came a whisper.

I opened my eyes, blinking groggily against the sudden brightness of the fire in the center of the cave.

I turned my head to look up and search for the source of the voice, and nearly screamed.

It was him.

Black hair, tall frame and lean muscles covering most of his body. He wore only a pair of jeans and a black tee. His feet were bare and dirty.  But oh! his eyes. The irises were black as night, impossible to tell apart from his pupils, and they seemed endless, as if I were suddenly staring into a dark abyss.

It was strange how in my nightmares he had frightened me, but my nightmares paled in comparison to the real thing. I supposed it was because when I just had dreams about it him I could pass it off as a lapse in my sanity. But now that he was standing in front of me, and that he was for real, that just frightened me even more.

“Hello there, my dear,” he purred, crouching down so we were eyeballs-to-eyeballs.

“Who are you?” I asked hoarsely, staring into his black eyes as I attempted to swallow.

“Who?” he questioned, “You don’t want to know what I am?”

“Who is more important,” I shook my head, holding my breath against the scent of blood he brought with him.

He sighed, standing up. “My name is Caleb,” he said, bowing to me. But his bow was low and mocking.

“Well, Caleb, would you kindly let me go?” I asked, my voice shaking.

He crouched down again, “Now why would I do a silly thing like that?” he asked, sounding like a condescending parent, flashing me a creepy smile.

I didn’t reply, because I didn’t really have a point or a good reason for him to let me go that would appeal to him.

“I knew you’d see it my way,” he said, suddenly unsheathing his knife, its sharp point pressed against my neck.

I inhaled sharply against the cold metal, and stared wide-eyed at him.