"If death is inevitable, I'd rather accept it from your hands"
A eighteen year old Y/n finds herself entangled in a mystic mess when one day she gets abducted by a vampire. The world she always believed to be fictional leads her to discover her own...
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While you sit quietly on the bed holding a damp piece of clothing to your neck, memories linger in your mind. The coldness of his sharp teeth sits fresh on your skin. Your shirt, drenched in your own blood, hangs loosely from your slumped shoulders.
With a blank gaze fastened on nothing in particular, you try to make sense of everything that has happened so far. The incidents, no matter how bizarre or un-called for they were, chose to manifest in your life, and every time you try to reach a conclusion, a sole question shows up, why me?
From the minimum conversation you had with the vampire, you gathered that he does this to lots of people and then compels them to forget the entire ordeal. But even he seemed perplexed at how things unfolded at the end. The cure part was new to you and him. So there it is again, why me?
The eerie silence lurking in the background makes the sound of your breath transpose to a wave of wild wind. The thick curtains still covering the windows prevent the daylight from reaching you. The old clock hanging by the door ticks around 06:44 with a periodic ruckus against the sinister tranquility.
With eyes now lingering on your flexed toes, and arms draped around your knees, you contemplate what to do next. After almost choking to death on your blood, which in his case is an irony, the vampire had walked out of his own apartment, leaving you in solitude. A spark of fury fused with surprise had flickered in his orbs before you saw them disappear behind the door.
What did I do wrong? You asked yourself, not being able to decipher the reason behind the abhorrence in his eyes, the first real emotion you saw in them.
The clock finally strikes 7 and you glide down the bed, dragging the sheets with you in the process. Walking to the window that had been concealed by the black drapes all along, you curl your fingers around the hem of the thick fabric and with a harsh pull, you set the curtains apart.The faint hue of golden-red proliferating through the blue sky like a blush against the thick serape of cottony clouds welcomes you in the arms of a new morning.
Don't they say with a new day comes new hope?
With that very thought repeating in mind, you decide to break free from your mental confinement for good.
Shifting your gaze all over the room, you search for the slippers you remember wearing before leaving for your backyard last night. You find them neatly stacked under the bed you were just on. Sliding your feet into the pair, you walk out of the room.
