High Stakes

I expected to wake up lying on the cold ground in pain. The reality was extremely different—my body felt different, light and tingly, and pleasantly warm. I could feel soft fabric wrapped around me, which I deduced was a duvet of some kind. I tried to open my eyes, which took a lot of effort, and, slowly, glanced around my new surroundings. It was a room of some sort, the air stale in my mouth when I took in a deep, shuddering breath. The furniture I could see was all mismatched, but it had one thing in common; it all looked expensive—out of place in the otherwise bare room—and beautiful in an old, antique way.

Judging from the dusty surfaces, the room I was now in wasn't used much. The light, which made my eyes hurt when I'd first opened them but I was now beginning to get used to, wasn't bright or glaring like sunlight, but soft and flickering, and I found the source—candles, all different heights and dancing gently even in the non-existent wind, lined up in rows along the dresser nearest the door. As I gently pulled myself up into a sitting position, letting the covers pool around my lap, I noticed the guy sitting in a chair across from my bed, half in the shadows. He looked so relaxed, calmly looking at me, but my reaction was very different. I almost screamed, and I'm sure I would have leapt a foot backwards if I'd been able to.

He didn't even flinch, and in fact he showed no reaction at all. I clutched a hand to my chest to hide how much I was shaking. Had he been watching me? When I recognised him, as the guy who'd saved me from the other vampire in the alleyway, my eyes widened significantly.

“You! You're the one... you... rescued me?” I wasn't even sure if that was the case—perhaps he'd brought me back here just to mess with my mind. Vampires were known for playing with their food, and why should I be the exception?

“I had orders,” he replied simply, his eyes—still burning yellow—locked on my own unwaveringly as he got to his feet. “But now you're awake I should inform the leader.”

“Wait!” I yelled. He stopped with his hand on the door, and gave me a look of slight annoyance. “W—what leader?”

“The Wizard of Oz, of course,” he replied, his face a mask of deadly seriousness. And then I saw a smirk curl up the edges of his thin lips.

If I hadn't still been in shock and scared for my life, I would have probably glared at him; because, holy shit, had he just used sarcasm? Vampires weren't known for their sense of humour—more their need to eat us normal humans—and it seemed alien to me that this guy... my rescuer, or whatever he was (“I had orders,” rang in my head) seemed so at ease that he was already cracking jokes.

Realizing I was gaping at him, and that he was still standing there with his hand on the door knob, I glanced down at my hands, folded in my lap. Soon after I heard the sound of the door click and, when I dared look up again a few minutes later, he was gone.

I wondered whether I was expected to just sit there until he got back, or if this was a chance for me to get up and explore. The second option seemed a lot more like it would get me out of here fastest, so, slowly, I got to my feet—I must still be tired, since I had so much trouble moving. Honestly, all I wanted to do was fall back into the warm mattress and let my eyes close, but instead I sucked in a breath, gritted my teeth determinedly and walked over to the door. I reached out and put my hand on the wood, which was cool under my fingers, and then tried the handle.

It was locked.

I tried, in vain, to twist and tug it open a bit more before I realised it was a hopeless fight. Well so much for getting away—not that I could have run, anyway, what with the whole being exhausted as hell thing. I sighed and turned away, walking over to the nearest piece of a furniture, an ornate, antique wardrobe. It was one of two in the room, the other on the other side of the room, and I was surprised to find that the door opened slightly when I turned the handle. I wasn't sure why, really; was there anyway for me to escape using a wardrobe? I suppose somebody who was stronger might have been able to push it through a window, except, when I looked around, I noticed that there weren't any windows. There was a indent where one had obviously been, but it was blocked up by bricks. Weird.

And unless this wardrobe, which seemed pretty normal to me, held a secret passageway to Narnia or another fantasy world, it wouldn't be much help. Still, curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to check out what was inside, and pushed the door completely open. Rows and rows of male and female clothes met my eyes, all neatly folded up or hung on simple wooden hangers. It wasn't the sheer number of them which surprised me, though, but the fact that there seemed to be a piece of clothing, or a set, from every period of history I could think of. Big, full-skirted dresses, intricately decorated with gold flowers and leaves and which seemed more suited to the 16th century than the 21st, took up a lot of the room, but it wasn't just century-old clothes. There were also fur coats, retro-looking skirts, suits... it was all there, and all beautifully arranged in what looked like some sort of timeline of fashion.

I knew that vampires lived longer than humans, by far; they weren't immortal, but I'd heard stories of two hundred and three hundred year old ones. But this amount of clothes was ridiculous, surely. Who needed it all?

As I was contemplating this I heard the door open, and I spun around, jerking my hands away from the beautiful clothes as if I'd been burned. The mysterious “rescuer” of mine was back, his hands neatly clasped behind his back, and he was staring at me. I felt a flush come to my cheeks, feeling like a little child who had been caught doing something naughty, but I defiantly lifted my chin and returned his gaze, trying not to flinch at the eerie yellow colour to his eyes.

“Do you always go through people's stuff when you're left alone?” He asked finally, breaking the silence which had fallen.

“Not normally, no,” I replied, trying to keep the shakiness out of my voice. It was a hopeless thing to do, frankly, since this vampire could apparently read my mind, and no doubt was enjoying the fear I was feeling. “But when I'm being held against my will—”

“Who said you were being held against your will?”

I resented the amused look on his face, and the fact that I'd been cut off, but I tried not to scowl at him in response. “The locked door sort of made me assume that.”

“Well, if that's the case...” He pointed at the now open door, and smiled in a completely unfriendly way. “Go ahead. Leave, if you want.”

I honestly did think about it, turning my eyes to look at the door, and what I could see through it—a long passageway, illuminated by candles in brackets all down it's length, and an over-the-top chandelier at the end—but then I realised that, even if I did walk out, I had no where to go. I had no clue where I was, or if this exhaustion would wear off, or if it was dangerous out there... and why I'd even been saved in the first place. I also had no money, no car—my purse was back in my car, wherever that now was—and absolutely no hope of getting hold of someone to rescue me.

Obviously, he'd predicted this was what I would work out, because I saw him nod in my peripheral vision. “Thought so,” he said. “Now, if you want information, follow me.”

“What if I don't follow you?” I demanded, turning to look at him again.

“If you don't,” he said, with a small shrug of his shoulders, “you can stay here for a few days.”

What? That was all? Being left in this room for a few days? I'm sure my incredulity at the response showed on my face, but then I thought about the prospect a bit more. Being alone in a windowless room for days, in what appeared to be a house or building full of vampires, with nothing to do, nobody to speak to, and none of my possessions... it certainly wouldn't be a nice experience, that was for sure.

I walked over to his side. “Alright. I'll come.”

Not that I have much choice with the whole vampire thing, I added in my mind. I saw his lips twitch, and I realised he must have heard it. Oops. That whole mind thing took some getting used to. Not that I planned to stay here in long enough to get used to it, though—I just had to go along with this craziness until I could find a way out.

How hard could that be?