Your Beloved Masters

Royal Pains in the A--

   I groaned and rolled over in my twin-sized mattress, slamming my palm down on the dismiss alarm button. I stretched my body out, letting my muscles relax and my bones pop. I opened the curtains to the morning sun, permitting its warm rays to caress me and fill my room with its youthful brightness.

I swept the hair out of my face and began fixing my bed, returning it to its previous state of perfection, before walking to the shower. The hot water soothed and licked my skin as I scrubbed at myself in my unscented body wash--my Masters never took a liking to human bath scents.

My shower never lasted too long, only about ten or so minutes. I reached for the knob to cut the water before I stepped onto the plush rug outside of my all glass, square shower. With my naughty bits hidden by a towel wrapped around my hips, I went on to wash my face and brush my teeth. I splashed my face with hot water to remove the unscented face scrub and minty green toothpaste from my face, before swiping my face clean with a smaller towel specially made for drying hands or faces.

I stared at myself in the mirror, a rarity in this old, decrepit castle. Brown hair so dark it seemed black, pale skin littered with freckles, and pale gray eyes. One of my distinguishing features?

Rosy cheeks, complimentary of rosacea. To humans, you just look too bashful. Too shy.

To vampires?

You looked like a silky dessert, beckoning for you to take a bite, seducing you to sink those sleek fangs deep.

I, luckily, have never been bitten, strange since I was the only human who worked here. I puffed my cheeks out as I walked back into my bedroom, drying myself off and putting on my uniform. Black slacks that fit me perfectly, dark gray Oxfords, and a plain white button-up that I usually rolled up to my elbows. I placed my pajamas in my hamper and my towel over the rack to dry. My alarm clock read six A.M.

Time to start the day, officially.

With quiet, gentle footsteps, I entered my main Master's room, Sir Tesla. A widower torn to shreds at the death of his late wife, the father of my other Masters. He drowned himself in alcohol and blood in his office, whispering to the portrait of Bianca, his wife, as if her very spirit could hear him. He was slumped over his desk, bottles and cups scattered on the tabletop.

"Sir Tesla," I whispered. "It's Six O'clock."

He groaned, lifting his head, "Thank you, Orion." His voice was strained from his ridiculous intake of alcohol. The whole room seemed to be drenched in the scent of spicy rum and metallic blood.

"You may start your other chores now."

I bowed my head and collected the empty bottles and cups to take with me to the kitchen. I was careful not to drop any as they overflowed my arms and unceremoniously released them onto a cart I was rolling to the elevator with me.

"--And I said, "that's not a horse, that's my wife!"

"Shut up, Rick. You're not funny."

I rolled my eyes as the other servants, all vampires, were on the elevator.

"Astros, go munch on a wooden stake. I'm hilarious."

The elevator stopped to let me on with the cart of glass. The bickering ended as I boarded, all the servants head's snapped to me, and more importantly--my neck.

"Nice to see you again, Oreo!" Rick smirked his fangs on full display.

"It's Orion. If you haven't smoked your brains out, you would know that."

"Oh, ouch!" He feigned. "Whatever should I do? The human is putting me on blast!"

"Choke on a crucifix and die, yeah?" one of the other servants, Drew suggested, pushing to the front of the crowd where I was. "Hello there, cutie." He trailed a finger down the column of my throat, making me shiver involuntarily. "Don't touch me." I gritted out.

He grinned. "You're in no place to make demands, love." I heard the gentle ding of the elevator, and I immediately gripped the handles of the cart, walking it out. I walked it into the kitchen, throwing away the empty bottles and placing the cups in the sink for the dishwasher. I picked up the sturdy broom I've been using since I lived here, and started sweeping the huge floor of the equally ginormous kitchen.

As I swept, I started thinking about my next chores--serving the other two Masters. The Princes.

The eldest, Klaus, was a jerk-off. He was annoying and arrogant, with his sharp jawline and perfect blonde hair that allowed his blood-red eyes to shine even brighter. He stood at almost the same height as his father, who was six feet and four inches. He always wore expensive clothes. Leather jackets as dark as night and lined with fur. His undershirt was usually a dark V neck or a dark turtleneck. His powerful, long legs encased in real leather. He liked letting people know he was rich.

Not only rich but the next one in line for the crown.

Knowing how he was now, just as a prince, I was scared to see how much of a douchey king he would be.

But enough about him.

I beamed in happiness, thinking about his younger brother, Vincent. If perfection could ever be personified, it would be him. Violet eyes that sparkled and glimmered as they stared into your soul. Black hair framing his perfect face. He only wore smart clothes--light button-ups and sweaters with cute little coats. Dark jeans and nice shoes. He shared the same beauty mark as his late mother, directly under his left eye.

I sighed dreamily, leaning against my broom.

"Careful now, dear. Wouldn't want to slip."

I whirled around angrily to see Klaus leaning against the counter, watching me.

"Shouldn't you have princely things to be doing, Master?"

"I could be doing you."

A harsh blush crept onto my cheek, layering onto my already normally pink cheeks. "I'm fine," I rasped out. "I'd prefer not to." His grin was predatory, fangs agleam and ready to strike, like the lion to the zebra.

But I was not a zebra.

I was a living, breathing, human being.

And I will not be reduced down to a blood meal. No matter what.

"Oh, fine. I know when I'm not wanted." He huffed, hands in pockets as he strode out of the room, leaving me and my thoughts.

I finished sweeping, dusting all the fine dust particles into the dustpan and disposing of it, grabbing an apple on the way out.

I cried in surprise as I was suddenly restrained. "What--?"

I barely had time to speak as a pair of daggers punctured my throat, leaving me breathless. The pain was excruciating, knowing that my very life force was slipping away.

But the endorphins kicked in.

"Hah..." I breathed and panted in my attacker's arms, my body breaking into a cold sweat of pleasure. The attacker delicately removed their fangs from my throat.

"You're delicious." Klaus groaned. "I could suck you dry right here." He licked a line on my throat, making me groan.

"You..stole my throat's virginity." I managed, my legs turning to jelly as I slowly slid to the floor to rest weakly against one of the cabinets, my apple rolling out of my hand.

Klaus crouched in front of me, wiping a stray tear from my face."Now now, you had it coming, dear. Having you around is like dangling a juicy steak in front of a starving dog." He licked his fang with his tongue.

"I'm afraid I'm unable to resist temptation." He lifted me into the air, throwing me onto his shoulder.

"We're going to spend some quality time together, you and I." he grunted, throwing me onto his bed like some doll.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to cry.

But most of all, I wanted Vincent.