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lonchaney4ever

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“Do you get carsick, Kristin?”

“Only when I’m riding with a blood-sucking vampire that just killed a potential boyfriend of mine,” I snapped. My stomach threatened to lurch itself against my liver again.

“I see.” After a while, he questioned uncertainly, “Are you done now?”

“No.” I am so not moving.

Well, I was done. It was just that my body refused to move. My brain was in overdrive. Then I thought about my Grandmother. The tears came then.

I didn’t hear him come behind me. I barely felt his arms around me. I vaguely noticed being buckled back into my seat in the car. I lost consciousness in seconds.

The next morning...

It’s funny when you read about being woken up in a strange place. It’s absolutely alarming when you find out that you’re not dreaming, and you’re not reading and it’s all real.

I woke up feeling like I was still dreaming. It was all a nightmare; nothing happened. I didn’t know where I was, and I felt like I would go home soon. Yes, they would take me back home…

Then I heard a knock at the door, and it all dawned on me in a rush. I probably looked like I went to Hell and back, and I probably even smelled like it. I was lying on a black leather couch. It was quite comfortable. There was a blanket wrapped around my shoulders.

The knock came again. Disoriented, I tried to figure out which door was which, and fortunately opened the right one.

“Good afternoon, Kristin,” Adrian beamed. “Sleep well?”

“Gah, no. My neck hurts,” I mumbled groggily.

“Sit down; I’ll fix it for you.”

I’m a pushover in the morning, so I did as I was told. Good Lord, Adrian was the best sexy man-masseuse there ever was.

“What happened last night?” I asked.

“You fainted after vandalizing the middle of the highway.”

“The highway? Where are we now?”

“I can’t say. But you are far, far away from home. Please, try not to run away.”

He was very respectful. But I couldn’t agree to his request. I didn’t want to stay there. I did not want to be immortal. I don’t want the urge to drink someone’s blood every time my stomach rumbles. I didn’t want to be a murderer.

“Adrian, I can’t stay.” I began. Why was I explaining this to him? “I have my grandmother to take care of, and she probably hates you. She told me about you, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” He chuckled darkly. “I follow a pattern that she caught onto quite easily. Or she warned you out of pure luck.”

“And what would that pattern be?”

“A twenty-first birthday.”

I gasped in horror. So he knew how old I was, where I lived. He killed all my mothers and grandmothers. I knew I had to get out of there, some how.

I cunningly came up with a plan.

“Do I get a grand tour?”

“Yes, after dinner tonight. For now you can freshen up in the washroom. You smell like garlic.”

Garlic? Wait a second. “Garlic? Aren’t you supposed to be writhing in pain because of garlic?”

“No,” he laughed, “That’s a wife’s tale. It was made up by some villager in Germany, probably so that she could make her family feel safer at night. I’ll be back tonight.”

He closed the door and was gone.

After I found out that the door was locked on the outside (apparently, the knocking on the door was pure courtesy), and that I couldn’t open the frosted windows, I decided to explore my newfound dungeon.

I had a wonderful closet. And it was filled with clothes I wouldn’t wear in my lifetime. Okay, maybe I would wear them. Some were cute. Others were just not me. At least whoever filled my closet thought variety was a good thing.

The couch I had slept on was not an ordinary couch. It was actually more of a bed. Although sleeping on a leather couch doesn’t sound appealing, there were plenty of blankets and pillows in shades varying from blood red to exotic orange shades and exquisite gold. There was no mirror at the dresser. Maybe I could ask for one.

The walls were painted red. Most of the furniture was rich, dark cherry. The theme colors seemed to be red and gold, like fire. I liked this room.

I opened the door that lead to the bathroom. There was a spa-tub, quite modern, and a shower next to it. The theme in this room was purple, silver and black. Odd combination, but it was slightly tranquil. There was no mirror here, either, even though it was a bathroom. I hoped that they wouldn’t make me do my own hair and make-up without a mirror.

I came out of the bathroom and checked the time. It was three in the afternoon. God, I was out a long time. I wondered when dinner was. I decided first things were first.

I peeled off my soiled sweatshirt and my tee-shirt. I noticed that there was a bloodstain on my bra. Nate’s blood. Before I could feel fully nauseated, I stuffed the piece of cloth in the waste bin.

As I patiently waited for the tub to fill, I explored the cabinets. They were well stocked. I looked through the different bubble bath solutions they had, and chose a strawberry-scented one.

I let myself sink into the warm water, and tried to relax and sort out the events of the past twenty-four hours. Saturday had started out so normal. Now I was wherever I was, being held captive. Today was Sunday, too. Grandma would probably be calling my apartment asking for a ride to church. Silly old woman believed in vampires and God. Thinking of her made me smile.

After I rinsed off in the shower, I began to ponder what I would wear to dinner. Should I dress up or should I keep it casual? There were some dark denims hidden in a drawer. I decided to wear those and a nice red top. Might as well fit to the theme.

I began to wonder if Adrian had a specific time that he would be coming. He was awake in the middle of the day, I realized. The light didn’t exactly filter through the window correctly, but I could tell it was getting darker. Maybe he would wait until sunset.