Jenna
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"Do venatores bleed like humans do?"
Her fingernails dug deep into my flesh, burning like hot iron. Crushing me until they pierced through and I bled. She smiled at the sight of it.
The classroom air felt like hate, heavy and still. All around us silence lay low in wait, as if ready to spring on us and bring the stench of death along with it. This was the wrong place, the wrong time. Her clutch on my wrist and neck made my skin crawl. She was stiff, gaunt and cold, long dead to the touch. Seething with a raw, inhuman power that showed in the shock red coals igniting her eyes to flame.
Bitterness.
I tried to pull away, teeth clamped together, every muscle contracting, begging me to move, begging me to get up and fight. But her strength was something I had never seen, never even imagined much less prepared myself for. Stronger than anything I had fought.
It has happened almost instantly. No name, no introduction. No gambling or pleading. It was like I had forgotten everything I had ever learned in the presence of this...
Monster.
In less than a second, the stake was out of my hand and far out of reach, and I had become her prisoner.
"Pathetic..."
My throat was collapsing, closing in on any ghost of a word passing through to make it into the air beyond. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't convert my quaking thoughts into words. Her piercing gaze split me through, and gagging, I struggled to speak. Found an opening, and pulled just enough to let a simple phrase slip through.
"What do you want?"
She let go, just a little, and examined me in something like triumph. "Just wanted you to know what exactly you're dealing with,"
"And what exactly is that?"
Cautiously I reached back, groping for the stake that had been tossed with ease behind me and lay in wait just out of reach, until my fingertips found its slim surface, and my hand locked around it. She didn't notice.
Praise God that she didn't notice.
"You wanna know who I am?"
Her grip tightened, but I held her gaze.
"My name is Theresa Miraverano,"
Miraverano... I knew that name. Something seemed to click in place but so far in my head I couldn't tell what it was. A feeling that I was missing something, something important. All I could think of was bloodstains and scorch marks, bloodshot eyes, and the blanket heaviness of nightfall.
"Queen of the Lamia, fifth order of vampires."
Queen Theresa Miraverano.
Queen of the Lamia.
"So you're her." My eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?"
"I would ask the same of you, little venator."
"Answer the question,"
She froze, an icy smile playing mockingly on her colorless lips. A little surprised, maybe, a little insulted. But it only showed beneath the red panes of her smug, half-closed eyes.
"Don't forget your position, Avella. You know how easy it would be?" Her sharp fingernail traced my neck, and I recoiled in disgust. "One little movement, and then you become like the rest before you? How easy it would be to end this small, deplorable life?"
"Shut up,"
She laughed.
"Alright, I'll tell you." Her gaze pressed into me.
"Creatures like us must eat, you know. Everything must eat. It's been awhile since our last feed, and we're thirsting. Becoming impatient. And you know what the best place for a feed would be, a place to find young flesh and young blood to satisfy our tastes?"
"You filthy---"
"This school. And you won't be alive to stop it, will you, darling."
"Are you sure about that?"
Victory melted in her eyes. In one motion I tore her hand away--sending scratch marks slicing through my skin-- and lashing out struck her face with the stake. With a scream, a wail that burst my ears and sent ringing tones reverberating through my entire being, she let me go, stumbling backwards and clutching her now steaming face.
"You..."
I didn't look back. The holy water was in my hand, and then it was burning holes in her skin. Heels hit ground, a flash of anger shook the air, and I ran.
I would stop this, and finish them off for good. Wipe even the lingering, foul memory of their kind from Deadwood.
Or I would die trying.
***
Light is a dying thing, coming when you need it, telling you it would brace your fall and save you just before it fades.
But that's when you hit the ground, with a bone shattering impact. Before the darkness consumes you, and hope flickers from your eyes, a rose losing its petals and shriveling into nothing but a whisper of a memory.
Hallway walls blurred past me, scenes blending together with a spinning ache and the rapid sound of footfalls against the ground. My mind was bleeding, sending questions and fear and hatred coursing through my veins and into every movement I made. Sending me faster and faster towards the exit just ahead, placed expectantly at the end of my path.
I was almost there.
In a second, I slammed my whole self into the paned glass door, busting it open and crashing into the blinding world outside.
Why had I run?
Fear was something I had barely known, the distant feeling of it cold and long passed since my training as a young child, when something like fear- the newness of the fight, had newly dawned on my fragile mind. I had gotten used to it, as my teacher faced me with the things I feared more and more until it let itself wash out of my remembrance. Even then, facing wolves, and dark rooms filled with snakes, and whitewashed walls breathing emptiness in and out, rising and falling, days spent carving my nails into the blank nothingness until the hurt went away and I was let out; I could conquer the fear in myself and put on another layer of strength. A new, tougher version of myself. Built for war.
I was a sinless child. I was the perfect child. And I was raised in fear, until I know longer knew how to feel it.
But now...
Why was the fear coming back?
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A.N. Hey lovelies! I just want to thank each and every one of you for your support, it has done a miracle on my confidence in writing and just in general. This book brings me joy, and i hope it brings you joy too ❤️ Be sure to vote, comment, and let me know how you're liking the story so far :)
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