Nicholae
I had never known greater joy than I felt as I held her slumbering warm body in my arms. Her scent was all over me, soaked in the fabric of my clothes and sheets. I couldn’t get enough of the smell of her hair, which was only inches below my nose. I could hold her like this forever, feeling the slow rhythm of her chest rising and falling on top of me, telepathically peaking at her brief dreams as she went in and out of sleep cycles.
I could hardly believe this meeting had gone so perfectly. There was always the possibility that she could have really understood what a vampire was upon seeing me in person and run scared. Or that my confession of watching her for so long from a distance would have been too close to human stalker behavior and she would have rejected me. Not to mention the fact that I barely made it here in time, let alone at all.
Richard’s trap had kept me imprisoned for an entire week. I had started to think I would never get out.
Every hour on the hour, Richard opened the door of the well and turned on those damned lights every time he found the jars empty. Each time, he kept them on for a few minutes longer, seeing how far into torment he could push me without killing me.
This went on for days. During the day, of course, I was forced to sleep the instant the sun came up, so I was able to get reprieve in those hours, even if I wasn’t conscious for them. But as soon as the sun set each day, Richard would return and demand I fulfill his request.
The second day, I was strong enough, and foolhardy enough, to leap up the well and suffer the wrath of the lights in an attempt to wound Richard, to snatch him and sate the thirst he was creating in me with all this wounding and regeneration. It took a great deal of blood to heal such massive burns, especially to do it over and over again.
So by the third day, I was too weak to do anything but lie there, exhausted and drained and dreading the next flash of light. Halfway through that night, I caught his attention when he next opened the door.
“Wait, wait,” I implored. “Richard, if you keep doing this to me, I’m going to die. I need blood. You have to bring me blood, or I won’t last for you to torture me into doing your bidding.”
He didn’t answer. He simply turned the lights on and watched me burn. Then when he had gotten his fill of my screams, he turned them off and slammed the door closed.
“This is it,” I whispered to myself. “I’m going to die down here. Maybe I deserve it. A monstrous end for a monster.”
I didn’t remember much else about that night. I was so drained of vitality that I kept passing in and out of consciousness. I began to be only vaguely aware of the burning, unable to even scream anymore.
At dusk on the fourth day, I was awakened by the thud of something landing on the steel floor beside me. I struggled to open my heavy eyelids and saw something furry. My nostrils were much more alert and acute than my vision, and the scent told me this was the corpse of a bunny.
“It’s freshly dead,” Richard called down. “It’s still warm, but don’t take too long to drink or it will get cold.”
My stomach turned. I despised drinking animal blood, and there was nothing worse than dead animal blood. But I had no choice. I had to drink it, even if it would only hold off the inevitable for a short while.
I gripped the bunny and brought it to my lips, forcing myself to sink my teeth in and suck. The taste was repulsive, and already getting cool and thick, but I pushed through it, sucking until every last drop of its blood was gone.
To my surprise, the rodent’s blood gave me a zap of energy. I didn’t feel as strong as I needed to get out of here, but I was still surprised it had any effect on me.
That gave me an idea.
I needed human blood to get me out of this hole, that was for sure. If I could convince Richard that animal blood had no effect, or maybe even made things worse, he might just find a way to get me human blood. But once I had my full strength, how was I going to use it?
I looked up at my prison cell’s opening. Those lights had to go. What if I could jump up just enough to snatch off each one? Sure, I would get burned, but it would only be for an instant until the electric cord was severed and I fell back down. Then with all those lights out of the way, I could wait for Richard to open the door and jump out the instant he does, and I would make him pay for crossing me.
My eyes wandered back up the length of the well. Did I have the strength to jump now? Did the animal blood give me enough energy, or was it just a placebo effect of getting blood period? I had to find out. If I could escape now, I had to try.
I took a deep breath and made the leap—
--But I only got as high as twenty feet, not even enough to trigger the motion detectors. I fell back to the bottom with an annoyingly painful thud, all my usual grace gone with the volume of blood I was lacking.
No, if I was going to make this plan work, I needed to get human blood. That was the only way to ensure I’d have the strength to not only make the jump several times but also to defend myself against any other machinations Richard may have waiting for me.
So, when Richard returned the next hour, I played possum, more or less. He knew I wasn’t dead because the light still burnt me, but I remained listless and immobile through the whole ordeal. It was actually more difficult than I thought not to fight the pain. My body begged to writhe and twist to escape the light, but I knew that there was no escape, so any efforts to find reprieve were a waste of energy, and I needed to store as much as I could.
Richard did not stop that whole night or the next night. Halfway through the fifth night, he called down to me, “You know, Nicholae, you can stop this anytime you want. Just fill the jars with what blood you have left, and this torture will end. I will even spread your ashes anywhere you would like.”
I didn’t respond, didn’t even turn my head to look at him. I just remained in that same limp and helpless position on the floor.
When I awoke tonight, I knew I was going to miss Crimson. Any minute now she would be arriving at my house, and I wouldn’t be there. It was ridiculous how much I cared about getting out by this day. Almost like I cared more about not letting her down than I did about surviving in general. Was I a fool?
But to my surprise, when Richard opened the door, he dropped something down the well that landed on my belly, followed immediately by another. Whatever he dropped, they were smooth and squishy, and kind of cold.
What the heck?
“If I were you, I would make those last,” he called down. “I won’t be getting you anymore. That’s a promise.”
When he closed the door, I craned my head up to see what he had given me. Sitting on my abdomen were two hospital grade bags of human blood. They had been refrigerated, which was why they were cold. But I could care less about temperature! I was beyond thrilled that I had human blood in my hands, fresh or not.
Crimson, I’m going to make it!
I bit into the thick plastic lining and guzzled down the first bag as fast as I could, and then the second. Cold as it may have been, it was still decadently delicious, and it filled me with renewed strength. I didn’t have to question this time I could make that jump. I knew I could jump clear up past the cloud line if I wanted to.
I planted my feet shoulder-width apart and shot upward, forcing myself not to shirk away from the light so that I could snatch one of them. The light scalded my eyes and my fingers the worst, but when I landed back on the well floor, I had one of the lights in my hands, its wires frayed from being so abruptly snapped.
I didn’t wait for my burns to heal. I didn’t have a single second or ounce of my tentative strength to waste. I shot up, again and again, to yank down one light after the other until they were all broken hunks of plastic and metal at my feet.
I smiled triumphantly up at the door of the well, knowing I was about to win this twisted game once and for all.
By the time I heard Richard’s footsteps descend the stairs, my burns had all healed, and I still had enough strength to do what needed to be done. As his footsteps came closer, I braced myself in a pouncing position, ready to jump the instant he unlocked the door.
I heard the clank of the door’s lock, and I jettisoned upward, pushing through the door before Richard could even pull it open. The force of it knocked Richard off his feet. I landed on the floor and launched myself at Richard, my eyes so prone on the vein in his neck that I didn’t see him reaching for something in his pocket. Too late, I saw an unknown liquid splashing at my face, and the instant it landed it burned like nothing I’d ever experienced.
Acid. The clever bastard had acid. And how clever of him to blind me with it.
But I didn’t need my eyes to know where he was. His thoughts were loud and clear in their panic. He was going for his gun, and this time he would keep shooting until I was dead and try to salvage whatever was left of my blood for himself.
Sorry to ruin your plans, Richard, but that’s not happening.
Thanks to all the suffering I’d endured at his hands the last few days, I was no stranger to it now, and I was able to operate as if it weren’t an issue at all. I lurched at him before he could reach his gun. I effortlessly pulled his neck to my mouth and bit in, my vampiric instincts negating my blindness.
There had never been a more satisfying kill of a human being in my centuries of being a vampire. I felt no remorse whatsoever for ending his life, and his blood was the most savory and rewarding I could ever remember tasting. I drained him in moments, too thirsty and impatient to prolong his suffering the way he deserved. I had a very important date to get to.
I didn’t even have to worry about showing up with a mutilated face. Richard’s fresh hot blood accelerated my healing, and my eyes were as good as new in no time. I checked the watch on Richard’s limp and pulseless wrist. It was just shy of seven o’clock. I may not have missed Crimson yet. Hold on Crimson, I’m coming.
I still couldn’t believe I made it in time. She was so close to leaving when I finally got here. And there was no reason to tell her about the reason for my delay. It would only upset her. It would just be a part of my history that would stay buried. Just like another part…
It was strange, but when I was at my weakest moment in Richard’s well, I thought that maybe this was karma’s way of punishing me for my most recent mistake. And maybe it was. I knew that I should admit it to Crimson, but it was just too soon. She had only just officially met me. I needed her to get to know me before I confessed that little blunder to her. If I told her now, she would hate me. And as I looked down on her sweet, happily sleeping face, that was the last thing I ever wanted. I might never tell her. Maybe my involvement in Stephen’s death would stay a secret forever.