Bloodbank

Ten

I sat in my high security cell, and cried.

My mental timetable said that I would have seven hours alone now, and needless to say I would spend that time crying and pitying myself in an endless cycle.

My father had disappeared. I'd given up on him, assumed him dead. Now I knew that the last years of his life were spent in torturous boredom, before being accidentally killed by greedy vampires.

His protection of me made sense now. He had to have known the rarity of our blood.

I wondered if it was Mason who had taken him here. If he'd been in the same cell I was currently in, white padded walls staring at me from all sides of the room.

My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. I was bewildered, having already had an abnormal day: my conversation with the laughing man was the first I'd had in weeks, and now the vampires who had previously stuck to an impeccable schedule were breaking their routine.

A man I didn't recognise barged in, a silken mess of fabric in one hand, and a pair of shoes in the other. I quickly rubbed my eyes, attempting to mask how red and puffy they were.

"This is the type C?" He said, raising his eyebrows as he looked me up and down.

My confusion grew. An outfit change was the last thing I was expecting.

"What's going on?" I puzzled as the man stepped closer than I would've liked, not that I had any personal boundaries any more, and proceeded to wrap a tape measure around my waist.

"Take off your clothes, girl," he announced, almost bored.

I shook my head, noticing the three other men in the cell. I was already vulnerable enough, if I had to stand naked in front of them all I would lose any dignity I had left, not that there was a lot of it after my night with Mason.

The man snapped his fingers, rolling his eyes and smiling widely, displaying a full set of sharp, pristine white teeth.

I realised quickly that I had no chance against him, and there was no point fighting.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I pulled my dirty shirt off my shoulders, exposing my ragged bra and incredibly skinny belly. My skin was so pale, I could've passed as one of them.

"All of your clothes," he commanded, and I proceeded to slip off my skirt, which was barely a rag now and unhook my tattered bra, leaving on my panties for fear of completely reducing myself to an animal.

"Perfect," the man smiled, eyeing me up and down like a slab of meat as I cupped my breasts in my hands, ineffectively covering my nipples.

It felt like hours that he stared at me, the other men in the room also observing from the door, the chilly draft making me shiver, completely exposed.

Eventually, he handed me a silk dress from the dozens he was holding, shimmering in the dim light with a red finish. I quickly accepted the dress, and pulled it on, immediately noticing the cutouts around my stomach and deep plunge, showing off my non existent cleavage, the dress barely covering my butt. Wearing just my underwear would've been less revealing.

All four men then lead me down the corridor, towards an ornate, golden door, from which a loud screaming could be heard.