Feed the Flames

-celine’s pov-

There wasn’t a door. Most rooms I stepped into, I was familiar with immediately. The placement of objects and furniture, the locations of exists, and the fastest path to said exits; it was a habit at this point. That’s just what my mind went to. A way out, an exit; an escape.

I’d never been in a situation dire enough to warrant the execution of one of these plans, but now that I was in that situation, for once I had no plan. There was no door. There were no windows. The walls were thick. I could hear the sound outside of them but it was so severely muffled I did not have a chance in hell to decipher them.

I was sitting in the only chair in the small square room, bound at my wrists and ankles, and there was a single naked bulb that hung down on a small swinging chain. If I squinted against the bright bulb I could see cables twining in and out of the chain. But there was nothing else. My hands were bound on the arms of the chair with what I was sure was just rope, but upon closer inspection I noticed it was nylon. Much smoother and much tougher. I felt like escape was as far away as it could’ve been. Even if I did manage to break the rope, how the hell was I supposed to get out of the room? I began thinking that perhaps the chain that the bulb was hanging from would open something. I couldn’t get a good enough look at the walls around me to see any cracks however, and the wall behind me I had to crane my neck around to see and yet it was cast in a deep darkness from my shadow.

Logic was my friend. Logic kept my safe. There was a door. There had to be a door or opening of some kind. That’s how I got in, right? Through an opening. When I stepped out onto the roof, the sun disoriented me and I stumbled back through the door. When I stumbled back I fell against the wall. The wall of the stairwell opened and I fell into this room.

Wait.

No…no no no.

That’s not right. That’s not right.

How did I get tied up? I only remembered standing on the roof, and then standing in this room. There was no other door, no chair, no nothing. Was I…missing part of my memory? Did I black out?

One second I was on the roof, the next I was in this room.

When did I get tied up? How did I get tied up? Someone would’ve had to come into this room and tie me up. That means there is a door! There is an entrance, but…I didn’t hear anyone else, did I?

I did. What did he say? I remember his voice. It was a he, and I…I remember his voice but I don’t remember his words. Why don’t I remember his words? What did he say?

I was drugged. That is a logical conclusion. When I stepped onto the roof I was drugged. During the time I was out I was brought into this room and tied up by an unknown person or persons. When I woke, my mind didn’t adjust immediately and thought I was still on the roof, hence why I kept thinking I was on the roof for a short time before fully adjusting.

I can live with that conclusion. I am not losing my mind.

I will not think about how there is no door. I will not think about how I do not feel as if I’ve been drugged. I will not think about holes in the story I have made up to calm my conscious.

I also will not think about Frank.

He sent me to the roof. Did he know? Was that why he said it was going to take him a bit to meet me? Did he…orchestrate this?

My mind moved to the dream I’d woken from this morning. I remember the bodies. Falling around me like ragdolls. Then there was that suicide pact in the school…

What were the words? The words in my dream… So many lies… Please don’t listen to them.

“Well,” Before my train of thought could continue, a voice sounded from behind me. It was familiar. “Looks like she’s finally awake.” I quickly looked over to my right as the source of the gruff voice crouched next to my chair on my right. It was a guy who looked a couple years older than me. Blonde hair, and…his eyes were…what were his eyes? They were just solid bright blue orbs that sat in his skull.

“Knock it off.” Suddenly a hand brushed across the back of the blue-eyed guy’s head and his grin turned into a scowl as he looked behind himself. But the man who had delivered the soft blow was already walking around in front of me.

The man that stood a couple feet in front of me didn’t hold the light air of the one crouched next to me. Light brown hair, high cheek bones, thin lips, a slightly gaunt face, but those details weren’t the most interesting. His left eye was solid black, his right eye was solid white, and a large five inch blood red scar ran deep into his flesh across his right eye socket. “Like this place?” He said swiftly, a smirk slithering onto his face. “I made it myself.” He snapped his fingers and a chair…appeared under him.

Perhaps I was still drugged and simply did not know it.

The man was sitting not two feet from me now, at eye level. The problem was I didn’t want to be eye level with his mismatched orbs. “I know you’re confused and wondering what’s happening, but truthfully, I’m wondering the same thing.” The man rested his arms on the chair’s, leaning back as he crossed one leg over the other. I was not about to take my eyes off of him. “Did you know I tried to kill you last night?” The question came out so nonchalantly it sent a chill up my spine. “I tried to murder you. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nothing personal against you. You’re a lovely girl for all I know.” His words were calm and almost unemotional, but the guy crouched beside me let out a short snicker at his friend’s words. “I went through quite a few others before I could find you, and attempting to kill you had just the effect I wanted. Well, almost.” The man’s face fell slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling down. “Tell me, you hang around them all, yes? You’re pretty close with Frank and his little…group, no?” Slowly, I shook my head. The man narrowed his eyes. “No?” He tilted his head slightly. “A girl like yourself, you’re telling me you don’t know every goddamn soul in that school?” I couldn’t contain a scoff. The man just nodded, seeming a little annoyed by my response. “That’s alright. Once we get him they’ll follow.”

At his last words my heart fell in my chest. Get him? Get Frank? What am I? Bait? Before I could even attempt to communicate, the blue-eyed man spoke from beside me. I noticed his voice was deeper than the scarred man’s. “I told you, you missed a golden opportunity this morning. If we’d gotten him they would’ve come without a doubt.” He told the scarred man, his voice almost condescending.

“Oh,” The scarred man raised his voice, and I turned my attention back to him. “That’s a fun fact I doubt you’re aware of. Did you know that little prick sits on your goddamn windowsill at night like some kind of watch bird?” I was beginning to wonder what kind of drugs he’d given me. “I finally had Toby go in cloaked this morning, and let me tell you, you could not have woken up at a worse time.” Cloaked? What? The scarred man laughed slightly. “He told me he was just about leaning over your bed when you opened your eyes to that damned kid tapping on your window.” I just stared at the scarred man, and he let out a sigh then, pressing his lips into a thin line as he furrowed his brows. “Do you not speak? I feel like I’m talking to myself now.”

“Told you.” Blue-Eyes spoke up from beside me, his tone grim and…unsettling. He grinned at me, when I looked at him, staring up at me with those damned blue eyes like a child looks at a cookie-jar just out of their reach. “Quit as a mouse.”

“You’ve watched them, haven’t you? How does she talk to others?” Scars asked, and I looked over at the man crouched next to me as I scrunched up my face in confusion. Watched them? Them, including me?

Blue-Eyes laughed slightly then, and it was a deep rumble that seemed to fill the tiny room. “I’ve told you, she doesn’t talk to them, only him. She writes notes.”

Scars seemed to accept this fairly easily, and nodded. “Alright then.” I felt something move under my hand, and I looked down at my arm just in time to see the nylon rope around my wrist slip back to my elbow, and tighten there. A notepad and pen materialized under my hand. Looking up at Scars, he nodded as if to tell me to go ahead. Quickly, my mind went through my options in a swift train of thought.

My arm was still too restrained to reach any of my other restraints. I now had a pen and notebook. The notebook’s not much of a weapon, but the pen is. Blue-Eyes is crouched next to me, his head almost level with my arm. If I grabbed the pen fast enough, I could jab it into his eye, yes, but then what? I would still be restrained, but now my captors wouldn’t be the seemingly calm people I was around now, but instead most probably anger riddled and strict. One has already told me he tried to murder me. Or tried to have me murdered, rather. Psychopaths aren’t friendly when angry.

With a slightly resigned sigh, I picked up the pen and wrote down a short question. Before I could lift the notepad however, Blue-Eyes leaned over and read it. His brows furrowed at the words, but a grin stretched his face.

“She wants to know when the drugs wear off.” His voice was almost giddy as he looked at Scars, who seemed almost taken aback by the blue-eyed man’s words. Scars stared at me with his mismatched eyes, and I have never been more lost.

“You think you’re drugged?” At the question I slowly nodded, unsure of what else it could be. Drugs were the most logical explanation to this. Their eyes, this room, the things I’ve seen… Drugs were the most rational thing. “Oh…oh that’s just rich. If there are drugs that can make you see this kind of shit I’d love to know about them.” He laughed then and leaned forward in his chair, uncrossing his leg, moving to the edge of his seat as he clasped his hands together. One corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk. “You’re clean, sweetheart. This, all of this, is real.” He spread his arms wide before clasping his hands together again. But then he paused, noticing I was giving him no reaction. “Wait, are you…” Scars sat up then, his eyes narrowed and his head turned slightly to the side. “Are you serious? You don’t know what we are?” I shook my head.

Blue-Eyes spoke up from beside me, his voice slightly cautious. “Should we…?” He trailed off, looking at Scars, who looked deep in thought.

I took to my notepad, the pen still clutched in my fingers. ‘What are you? I underlined it, looked at Blue-Eyes as he read it. He then glanced at me before looking at Scars, who hesitated a moment before nodding once, seemingly as a sort of conformation.

Turning my attention back to Blue-Eyes, he spoke. “Have you ever heard or seen something that can only ever be fiction? From gods to monsters, to strange occurrences you’ve heard about to even some things you’ve seen with your own eyes?” The grin returned to his face, meeting his eyes. “Some things they break the rules of nature. The laws of man. With us, there never were any rules. Never any laws.” I swallowed hard, not able to remove my eyes from the bright blue ones in the guy’s head. Without looking, I dug the pen into the paper, underlining and underlining the sentence.

‘What are you?’ His eyes followed my movements, and then they moved back to my face.

His smile grew almost sinister again. “We’re monsters.”

“Vampire is the more specific term.” Scars spoke up then, and my head snapped over to him, my mind now possibly even more confused. Scars was leaning back, one leg crossed over the other again, slightly slouched in his chair, almost too casual. “Your boyfriend and his friends, they’re vampires too. Congrats, probably the most normal aspect of your life isn’t so normal after all.” I stared at him, my mouth open slightly, my eyes not wanting to move from him. Vampires? No, psychopaths. Definitely psychopaths. “So sweetheart, my thing is I don’t care if you believe us or not, I just need you to sit here and be nice until your friends get here to rescue you, alright?” He smiled as he stood up, and I began writing, but he was already walking around me. Blue-Eyes, however stayed and watched my hand as I wrote.

‘Why do you want Frank?’ As I finished writing I looked at Blue-Eyes, expecting an answer. He seemed to calm down as he read my words, and as he looked up at me there was…somewhere in those blue orbs there was understanding.

“It’s…the way things are. We are rogues. Your friends aren’t. Everyone in this group is a rogue vampire. This group…they believe humans to be almost parasitic, and another life lost is nothing to them, they only care for blood. Your friends are the good guys, and this group is full of bad guys. Everyone else here…they don’t believe other vampires should exist. They believe them to be weaker than us rogues.” Blue-Eyes seemed to space out for a moment, staring almost through me. I took to the notepad.

‘You don’t include yourself in ‘the group’ do you? Even after he read it, Blue-Eyes remained quiet for a moment. Then he smiled slightly, but it didn’t match his eyes. It was off.

“Just because I got addicted to blood doesn’t mean I’m a bad guy.” Blue-Eyes stood up then, and took a deep breath. “The man who was just here, Mason, he is one of the bad guys.” Looking around, Blue-Eyes sighed, but as he turned his attention back to me his face was grave. “Your friends will come, I’m sure of it, but…you don’t want to be around monsters all your life. Growing old while we don’t…it’s not romantic, it’s not a fulfilling life…” He trailed off, diverting his eyes again. I began writing.

‘What are you saying? Run away? Leave him? Leave Frank?’ He noticed I was writing and read the words after I moved my hand. With a deep sigh he nodded.

“Yes. Run.” Blue-Eyes looked at me, his voice only a whisper now. “This isn’t a life for a human being.”

Suddenly there was a voice from my left. “Bob, what are you doing?” I looked over, but no one was there. Quickly, Blue-Eyes, whose name I now knew was Bob, stood from beside me, and scowled.

“Don’t get near her, Toby, she’s mine.” Bob told him casually, as if he was calling dibs on the last chicken wing. “Once we kill the kids I’m taking her.”

I looked back to where this ‘Toby’ was, and suddenly, the air shimmered, and he faded into my vision. He had dark black hair and deep green eyes set into his head. “C’mon, you can’t be like that, man.”

Quickly, Bob snapped back. “I fuckin’ can, now get away.” His stance beside me was protective, and Toby rolled his green eyes before walking off through the wall, which I was beginning to get, was an illusion in itself.

When he left, Bob crouched down in front of me again. “This should be over within a few days…” He trailed off again, and deftly scratched at his jaw. “For-for what’s it’s worth, I don’t want to do this to them. I just don’t see how they can survive it. They were always good to me but…rogues are taking over and I won’t be caught dead on the losing side.” Bob seemed to smile slightly, sadly, and then he stood, and walked off without another word. What did he say?

I stared at the illusion of a wall he’d walked off through, not sure what to do. What was that about?

Bob…why was that name familiar?

They were always good to him? But he doesn’t even know the…

Wait.

Bob?