Part II: Who Am I? What Am I?
My hunger temporarily at bay, there was nothing to divert my attention from my unwanted hostess. She had not moved since surrendering her plate to me. Her narrow features pulled into an expression, which on a normal person, I would have called amusement.
“You find me funny?” Anger laced the words I spat at her. I loathed her smugness. My fist itched to clear the smirk from her ruby lips.
Her dark brow rose at my tone. A warning I was well acquainted with, but ignored. I wanted answers and was willing to court her ire to get them.
“I find everything amusing. When you’ve lived as long as I have, you learn to take very few things seriously.”
Her movements were languid as she rose to stand next to her chair. Her brilliant blue eyes lit on me expectantly. We went through the same routine every night. I was to rise and follow her into the adjoining room. There she did things to me I tried like hell to forget. Tonight, I decided to be more obstinate than usual. I planned to unravel the riddle that had become my life. Whether I cooperated or not, I was going to suffer.
“Are you really going to challenge me on a matter as trivial as this? One slender arm dropped over the back of her vacated chair. Her wisp of a figure fell into a relaxed pose. I braced myself for flight. By now I had seen how quickly she could strike. When she did move, a game of slap and tickle would not be her intent.
“Who am I?” I noticed a tremble in my voice. I detested myself for the show of weakness.
“Get up,” She ordered. Her full ruby lips curved into an inviting smile; but her electric blue eyes…they told a different story. A story you prayed you would never have the misfortune to read.
“Who am —, “ She leapt upon me! One second she lounged against her chair and the next she was hovering over me. She held my short hair in a vise-like grip and yanked until she exposed my throat. I pounded and scratched her offending hand, all to no avail. I screamed in stark terror as her head lowered. Her fangs punctured my neck with a brutality my mind refused to accept. My screams rent the air until I lost consciousness.
I came to slumped in my chair. My tormentor sat in front of me, perched on the edge of the dinning table. I watched in disgust as she licked flecks of my blood from her lips. My hand sought my wound and found a trail of wet stickiness down the side of my neck. As my fingers gingerly pressed the wound, I could feel it mending. In a few minutes, there would be no wound or pain. Not even a scar left as a reminder.
“Will I become like you?” I croaked, frightened all over again at the prospect.
“You humans,” she laughed. “You watch too many movies and read too many books.”
“Has it been so long you’ve lost any shred of humanity? At one time, even you were human.” I reminded her.
“Don’t speak on subjects of which you know nothing. I was never human.” She informed me. Her eyes locked on my bloody fingers.
I didn’t know what to make of her words. She had ravaged my throat on a regular basis since bringing me to this forsaken place. It had been hard to digest the fact that I was the captive of a vampire. If she wasn’t a vampire, what in hell was she? My mind reeled as I pieced together her actions. I mentally replayed every word we had exchanged. Actually that was all there was to review. My memory before being brought here was lost to me.
I noticed she had left my question unanswered. Was that deliberate? Would I eventually become a creature like her?