Call It Love, Call It Fear

NOTICE!!!! REREAD CHAPTER ONE FIRST! I REWROTE IT.

Call It Love, Call It Fear

Chapter 2

Ronnie awoke in a strange room. Actually the room itself wasn’t strange. What was strange was that she was there.

She was in a four poster bed, with blood red sheets. She pulled herself out of the large bed, looking around her in awe. The room was richly decorated, in a gothic style. A large bookshelf was on the far wall, and several paintings, all of which looked expensive, separated the panels of bookshelves. The wall to her right had a large mahogany door, then a desk and a chair. An oil lamp set on the desk, to provide illumination if anyone was going to work there. The opposite wall, to Ronnie’s left, was two doors, and a large landscape painting. Beyond that was a fireplace. Ruining the old gothic feel to the room was a flat screen television mounted on the wall above the fireplace. A couch and several chairs surrounded the fireplace, and a table with two wooden chairs was beyond that.

What was this place? Ronnie had never seen anything like it before. She turned around, to see two large, floor-length curtains, presumably covering windows. Walking to one, she started to pull back the curtain. She screamed when a hand covered her own, preventing her from pulling the curtain back.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice that brought back her memory said. She remembered that voice. She knew that voice.

She knew it from last night. Memories came back to her of then. Of fear, of being watched. Of knowing something was following her. Following Morgan and Ronnie. Something, following them. It was him. It was the person standing next to her, his hand on hers. He had been following them. She remembered Morgan and her running from an unknown threat―him. Morgan being pulled out of safety by him. Morgan’s body ripped to pieces, by him. She felt tears well up in her eyes. Why was she here? What was he going to do to her?

She started sobbing, falling to the ground and hugging her knees to my chest. She was scared, terrified for her life. What was going to happen to her here? Why did a killer, a person who killed her best friend, bring her here?

Tears fell out of her eyes onto the dark hardwood floor. Why did he kill her best friend, but not her?

A hand fell onto Ronnie’s back, trying to comfort her. But it didn’t. Ronnie pulled away from the man.

“What do you want with me?” she asked the person, terrified of him.

He smiled at her, revealing a perfectly white smile. But there was something in his piercing green eyes that she didn’t trust. Perhaps it was that she had seen those eyes for years in her dreams, only ever seeing the eyes of the person in the fog. It was him, she realized, who was in her dreams.

“All I want is you,” he said, still smiling.

Fear rose in Ronnie’s chest at his words. What did he mean? What kind of psychopath was this guy?

“Let me explain,” the man said, looking into her eyes. Those green eyes felt as though they could pierce into her soul.

She realized that she was still crying, salty tears dripping down her skin. The man stood up, then extended a hand to her to help her up. Ronnie ignored him, standing up without his help.

He frowned but didn’t say anything. He led her over to the table, where he sat down at one end. When he gestured at her to sit down at the opposite end of the table, she ignored him.

He sighed. “I have a lot to tell you, and you’ll be far more comfortable sitting, that I can guarantee you.”

Ronnie looked at him, then sat down, deciding not to argue. Who knew what a psychopath would do to her if she didn’t do as he wanted?

“First of all, my name is Destery,” the man, Destery, began. “Now, I do believe I already know your name. Ronnie, isn’t it?”

Ronnie nodded. “Short for Veronica,” she added quietly.

Destery chuckled. “Are you afraid of me?”

She nodded, looking down, not wanting to meet his piercing green eyes. He laughed again.

“You never have to be afraid of me. I will never hurt you. I promise you that,” he said softly.

His change in the tone of his voice prompted Ronnie to look up. She was lost, suddenly, in his eyes. She pulled herself away from them, looking instead at the wall behind him. Then she thought about what he said. What was a promise from a killer worth? “I can’t trust someone who killed my best friend.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, you think I killed that girl?” he asked with a chuckle.

She raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you?”

He shook his head. “No, that was Michaela. She’s…gone now,” he said, a faint smile appearing on his face.

What did that mean? Had he…killed her? What kind of person was he?

“She would’ve killed you if I hadn’t taken care of her,” he said suddenly. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

“So what are you, some kind of…vigilante?” she asked him, still afraid of him. She was defiant, not wanting to let him see that she was afraid.

He laughed, looking away from Ronnie. “Not quite.”

“Then what are you? A psychopath? Because that’s what it seems like,” Ronnie continued, becoming more and more bold with her questions. Destery’s lack of straight answers was irritating her.

“A vampire,” Destery answered, his green eyes returning to meet Ronnie’s.

A silence filled the room. Ronnie’s mind was a nearly incomprehensible mix of thoughts. He couldn’t be serious. Vampires didn’t exist. If they did, scientists or someone would’ve found them by now. There’s no way vampires existed. There’s just no way.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” he asked after the silence had stretched for several moments.

She shook her head. “There’s no way you’re a vampire. They don’t exist.”

Destery laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You were told that many things don’t exist. As far as I know, most of them don’t. But vampires,” he said, leaning closer to her, “are very real.”

Ronnie still shook her head. There was no way.

Destery sighed. “You are so stubborn, Ronnie.” He smiled though, his voice lightly teasing.

Suddenly, he stood up, and moved so quickly it was as though he had disappeared from one side of the table to beside Ronnie, his fingers appearing around her neck. He smiled at her, but this time it wasn’t the same.

This time, he had fangs. And his eyes were no longer the brilliant green, but a bottomless black. “Believe me now?” he said, leaning closer to Ronnie. Her body trembled in fear.

“Do you?” he asked again, shaking her.

She nodded, still shaking. He was a vampire. A killer. It hit her then, that she was in a room with a killer. She stood up from the chair and ran from the table to the door to her right. Her hand fumbled as she tried to grasp the handle of the door. She should’ve known better than to think she could outrun a vampire.

Destery was soon behind her, and he spun her around to face him. His hands were on the back of the door, on either side of her head.“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, leaning close to her.

“Please, let me go,” Ronnie begged, terror consuming her. Her eyes closed, not wanting to see any more.

Destery shook his head. “I can’t do that, Ronnie. If I do…you will die.”

Ronnie froze, and her eyes slowly opened to look at Destery. “W-what?” she asked him, her voice cracking.

“You’re already a half vampire, Ronnie.” He pulled away from her, giving her room to breathe.

He couldn’t be serious. There was no way…. “How?” she asked, though her voice was monotone, not asking it like a question.

Destery shrugged. “I bit you. The change started.”

“What does it mean, to be a half vampire?” she asked, scared of the answer. She prayed that it didn’t mean she drank blood.

Once again, he shrugged. “Means that sunlight will burn you, you’ll sleep more, you have no reflection, you’ll start craving blood, and eventually…” he trailed off. His eyes met hers, then he continued. “You’ll need vampire blood to complete the change.”

What? He couldn’t be serious. Sunlight would burn her? She wouldn’t have a reflection? And she’d want to drink blood? No…that couldn’t be true. She ran to the window, pulling the curtain back. A small sliver of light made it into the candlelit room, touching the skin on Ronnie’s hand.

It burned! It burned, stinging her skin. Ronnie screamed and pulled her hand back, letting the curtain fall, covering the sunlight once more. She had been burned once in her childhood by a candle, and she thought that had been painful, since it blistered and hurt for days afterwards, but this was worse, much worse. It felt as though her skin had been touched by the sun itself, and she could already see the skin a violent shade of red, and in some spots even blackened. It was a bad burn, she knew that.

Destery moved from the center of the room, near the door, where he had been watching her and came over to her, taking her hand. He looked at it. “It will heal with the change,” he said, dismissing it.

Ronnie cradled her hand, trying to fight back tears. It was still burning on the inside.

“You should change now, then it will stop hurting,” Destery said, watching her as her face contorted in pain.

She looked at him. Why did he think that she wanted to change? She didn’t. “I’m not going to change,” she said stubbornly. “I’d rather die than be a vampire.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “You’d rather die a painful death than live forever?” he asked incredulously.

She nodded. It sounded weird, but Ronnie had her reasons. She didn’t want to be left alone, like she had been all her life. One of her only comforts in living was knowing that it could end, and that it would end, eventually. All her life, she had been left alone, people around her dying. She was comforted by the fact that one day, she could join them. Becoming a vampire would take that away. “I’d rather die.”

Destery narrowed his eyes at her. “Die, then. Because that is what will happen without my blood,” he said, his voice rough as he went to the door Ronnie had tried to run out of. He closed the door behind him, then there was the sound of a key being turned in a lock, then fading footsteps.

Ronnie went to the door, checking it. It was locked, as she expected. Her hand still burned. If she knew anything, it was that it needed to be run under cold water.

She turned around, looking at the two doors on the opposite wall. She went to the first one, the one nearest the fireplace. Opening it, she only saw clothes inside. A closet. She went to the next one, finding what she was looking for. A bathroom. She went to the skin, automatically turning on the water and putting her hand beneath the cool water. She sighed in relief, the burning sensation leaving her hand.

It felt so much better that she left it under the water for longer than necessary, before turning off the water and drying her hand. Then she looked up into the mirror and gasped.

He had told her that she would have no reflection, but that did not prepare her for the surrealism of not having a reflection. It was so…strange. It scared her. It was like, the moment of fear a person has when they take another step on the staircase once they’re at the top, and they start to fall forward. But, that sensation ended. This didn’t go away. Ronnie’s reflection wasn’t in the mirror, though it should be. She started shaking, unable to tear her eyes from the mirror.

This was the kind of thing that happened in dreams. Could she be asleep? Yes, this had to be a dream, it couldn’t be real. Any second now, she was going to wake up in her room, Morgan whining about not having her coffee. Ronnie closed her eyes, praying that she was right and she’d wake up. But when she opened them again, she was still facing the mirror. The mirror that didn’t hold her reflection.

Ronnie pulled herself away from the mirror, still in horror about not having a reflection. She went back into the room, and sat down at the couch. She seemed to be in a trance, but she was just lost in her thoughts.

This wasn’t a dream. It was all real. Very real. Too real.

Destery was a vampire.

Morgan was dead, killed by a vampire.

Destery was keeping Ronnie here, a prisoner in this room.

Ronnie was a half vampire.

She was going to die.

When the reality of the situation hit her, she felt dizzy, and felt to the side, the world turning black to her eyes.

V””V

Destery was furious. He hit the wall, his fist going through it. Growling in frustration, he pulled his hand from the wall, ripping more of the drywall out, leaving a large hole.

How could she not want to become a vampire? She was so goddamn stubborn!

He growled again, angry at her. Part of him wanted to rip her head from her shoulders for defying him and refusing vampirism, but the other part of him wanted to ask her gently why not.

This girl, Ronnie, confused him.

On one hand, he wanted her to die. He wanted to kill her himself, rip her from limb to limb. He wanted to drink her blood. He wanted her to die, just like he did with any human. He truly hated humans, with good reason.

On another hand, he wanted her. He wanted her like he had never wanted anything before. He wanted her more than blood. She was like the center of his universe, he was drawn to her.

And she hated him. She feared him, believing that he killed the other girl. He had not, but he could see why she thought he had. Her friend had been taken from her, by someone. Then he shows up, and bites her, making her pass out. She assumes that he killed her friend. The odds were not in his favor, but it was the truth.

She feared him, because of what he was. For the first time in his existence, Destery regretted what he was. He wished…he wished that he was human, because then Ronnie wouldn’t fear him.

Destery hated Ronnie. He had been waiting all his life for her, searching, and when he found her, he wanted her. He wanted her to love him, immediately, as he did with her. But that didn’t happen. So he hated her.

And, of course, there was a part of him that loved her. He knew that she was his soulmate, the one Lucifer had destined him to love. He loved her, without even knowing her. That was how powerful Lucifer’s gift had been.

Sometimes, people referred to the gift of soulmates as a curse. In the vampire bars where Destery spent most of his time in between searches for his soulmate, vampires whined about it. Destery never understood why they wished they didn’t have soulmates. Until now. He felt…weak, when he was around her. Like she was a weakness. And he didn’t like the way he was attached to her, the way he cared about her. It was…unfamiliar to him.

But, she was still the one he had spent decades consciously searching for, and the one he had unknowingly spent his whole life waiting for. He loved her.

He growled again in frustration. He didn’t know what he felt, he was a mixture of emotions. Ronnie had done this to him.

He thought about her. She was perfect, to his eyes. Even in her human imperfection, he still saw her as impossibly perfect. Her blonde hair fell in gentle curves to the middle of her back, framing her beautiful face. And those eyes…those beautiful blue eyes. She was perfect. He wondered how she’d look once she changed.

Then he remembered that she said that she’d rather die than become a vampire. He groaned. She was being so damn stubborn! He decided to go check on her, since she had burned herself with the sun.

He opened the door to the room quietly, his eyes searching the room for her. He finally found her on the couch, on her side.

As Destery moved closer, he realized that she must have fainted. He knew that some people actually fainted, it wasn’t just something that happened in books or movies. He knew that she would wake up soon, so he checked her hand. It was pretty bad, and looked painful to even look at. He went to the bathroom and took out the bandages. He wasn’t sure why he had them, other than the fact that they must have come from the person who was foolish enough to invite me into this house. He bandaged her hand, putting some sort of burn ointment on it. He wasn’t sure if it would work on a half vampire, but it was better than nothing.

After her hand was taken care of, he brushed the hair back from her face and kissed her softly. She started to stir, so he pulled away, leaving her alone.

V””V

Ronnie had awoken, to find her hand in a bandage. Looking around, she knew that Destery had put it on her, but he was nowhere to be found. She looked down at it again.

Destery puzzled her.

He was a killer. She should hate him, and part of her did. She was terrified that he could kill her at any moment. It scared her how at moments he seemed inhuman. Which, he was, she realized.

The other part of her was afraid of him. He was a killer. He could kill her in an instant. But, that didn’t seem to faze her. She was going to die anyways. Although, that was his fault. So a part of her hated him.

Yet…she also was attracted to him. Maybe it was Stockholm syndrome, or something, but from the first moment she met him, she was attracted to him. It was…weird and unexplainable.

It made no sense, but she liked him. He could be kind, the bandage on her hand proved that. But…he could also be cruel. When he proved to her that he was a vampire, he showed that.

One thing was certain. Destery was a complicated person.

He was the reason she was alive, yet the reason she was dying.

She was dying. That thought lingered in her mind. She had always wondered how terminally ill patients felt, knowing that they were going to die. Now she knew. They felt…lonely. And it was depressing. But, somehow it still hadn’t quite fully sunk in for Ronnie, and she knew that it would hit her later. For now, she wasn’t afraid of death. Right now, her resolve to rather die than become a vampire stood steadfast.

She didn’t want to become a vampire. Her only comfort in life was that it was possible for her to die, and that she would eventually. It was…a way for it to end. Living forever seemed like a hell for Ronnie. She didn’t want it. An instant death would be better than living forever, watching everyone else die.

Maybe it was morbid to wish for death, but that was the way Ronnie felt. Nothing could change that.

Ronnie stood up from the couch, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion sweep over her. The room seemed to be spinning. Slowly, she led herself to the bed, lying down to sleep. Destery had been right. As a half vampire, she needed much more sleep than she had as a human.