The vampire's incubator

Chapter 9

Chapter 9
Lighthouse

Five days have passed since that atrocious act occurred and I can safely say that the mad king and I haven't had any sort of exchange, well at least a verbal one because there were times his fiery gaze burned holes in the back of my neck and I would take that as an opportunity to return it ten times worse. To be honest, I was surprised when he didn't say anything the first time I stared at him but knowing him, how I'm gonna die and where I'll be hanged are things he's probably planned already.

From our group of ten, five girls were hauled to the hospital for artificial insemination four days ago and basing myself on how much fate hasn't been favouring me lately, I'm astounded that my womb is still vamp-babyless (well that's another word from Rosaline's dictionary in case you're wondering). Currently, the mad King and I are having our now usual staring contest which includes him smirking while swirling the blood in the glass and I tapping the knife on the table, wishing I had laser eyes. However, the competition ends when suddenly a girl whose name I think is Sarah stands up from her chair which scrapes loudly against the floor, grabbing everyone's attention in the process and forcing them to stop eating.
She winces, clutches her stomach with one hand and bends a little, taking shallow backsteps to the door but keeping her glassy terror-filled eyes on the mad king and it is in this moment when she knows. Her lips part speedily like she's about to let out a scream but the pang in her tummy is obviously overshadowed by the fear she has for the mad King and just like the rest of us who abruptly stand, she fully understands what's happening when a single drop of blood hits the floor from between her legs. We have silently and effortlessly accepted this, we've assented to live in a world where a mother loses her child but her suffering is nothing in comparison to the fear her oppressor thrusts upon her. Humans are all programmed in the same way so it's no surprise when all our eyes travel to find the mad king.
His hand is bloody from the glass he seems to have broken in his hand and even with so much distance between us, I can justly feel the waves of blazing fury radiating off him.

With both hands behind his back and flaring nostrils, he stalks towards her and I can't make out whether Sarah is transfixed due to trepidation or because she knows it would be pointless to run. "So..." he draws out. "..you just took it upon yourself to murder my son?"

What?

Sarah shakes her head vigorously with audible breaths but this seems to excite him because his pace increases towards her and when they are close enough, he circles her like a lion would its prey.  Her face is a mess at this stage, mascara staining her red cheeks and a few strands of her falling on her face as she keeps whipping her head to see her predator.

But it doesn't take long for we all gasp in horror when with one swift movement, he slashes through her neck with his hand and Sarah's head flies across the room to hit the far wall while her body thumps to the floor, blood gushing out of her neck to make a pool on the floor and the sound of my heartbeat is loud and clear in my head.

"Haaa..." He breathes out, looking at the blood on his hands and pink vest like it was something as insignificant as hair oil. "Look at that mess, I'm going to have to bath now." Shaking his head, he tsks and walks out, leaving us to look at the Queen who's eating like nothing happened, like it's just a normal sunny day outside and she's been locked in her own little world where nothing ever happened. If that didn't explain why I question their mental fitness, then nothing ever will. These people are so messed up even the most qualified shrink wouldn't be able to untwist their distorted minds. I look at Rosaline to see her mirroring the same expression on my face, eyes wide open in disbelief but she soon recovers and shakes her head.

The mad king may bathe from the river Ganges if he wishes but it's a known fact that no matter how long a fish stays in water, it'll always stink and in his case, no amount of soap and water that will ever clean his soul, that's if he still has one. Now we're all standing in our new positions and nobody dares to eat, we just look at each other like we're waiting for permission to go home from the principal until I decide to walk out, everyone travelling along while the Queen continues with her meal serenely.