Status: Just starting this one off... Chapters will be slow but hopefully steady. Comments and criticisms welcome!
Adjusting to the Fanged and Fearsome
Angry Isn't Quite Strong Enough
I stormed into my bedroom and slammed the door behind me. The walls were devoid of colour and I had no real personal possessions to break… or use for comfort. I slipped into my walk-in closet and pulled the door shut behind me. I quickly changed into a one piece black suit, covering my pale skin from my neck down. I completed the ensemble with some thin gloves and black knee high boots. If it came to the worst, I’d be all dressed to make a run for it in the morning.
I slinked back into my bedroom and pulled the curtains together, effectively blinding myself.
Moments of hushed conversation alerted me that my parents were downstairs with Desmond and him - Martin. Stupid vampire scum; he looked at me as though I was disposable, nothing but another meal. Crouching close to the ground, I kicked hard from the well worn carpet and bulleted to the top corner of the room, where a large handle waited, concealed in the shadows. I balanced myself precariously against the wall, hanging from the handle by one hand. I darted around the room and bounded across the furniture, grabbing various books and weapons from my bookcases and shelves and replacing them in different areas of the room. My anger slowly depleted.
I paused, noticing for the first time that the conversation downstairs had ceased. A faint brushing of material against the carpet caught my attention and I was startled to the ground, where I crouched with my muscles tense.
I darted back into my closet and silently closed the door, hearing slow cautious footsteps meandering along the hallway. My parents were a lot louder on their feet and had no reason to be slinking around their own home. I changed into a deep blue camisole and black shorts. I favoured dark colours as a general rule to blend with the darkness. I wasn’t afraid of the things that dwell in the night… Usually.
A blinding slice of light stretched under the closet door as my bedroom door swung open and cast an elongated shadow where my feet rooted to the ground. Somebody was in my bedroom… Looking for me. Quiet footsteps padded into the en suite and paused. Perhaps my father checking that I hadn’t escaped?
I edged back against the rear wall of the closet and curled up on the floor. I relaxed my muscles and allowed my eyes to droop shut, feigning sleep. My breathing slowed, a technique I’d practiced since I was only a child.
Slow creeping footsteps paused and the closet door creaked open, the figure casting a shadow in the light from the hallway. A mocking chuckle rippled through my bones and I shivered involuntarily. I knew who was in my bedroom, if only by the ancient rasp in his voice. Vile bloodsucker.
Why was he here? How could my father let him in here without warning me first? He could have at least warned me what his power was. I struggled to keep my limbs limp as he crouched over me, his cool breath on my neck. He leaned in to stroke my cheek with his knuckles and I snatched out suddenly, catching his ice cold wrist. I was paralysed instantly, my muscles losing all substance and my arm falling back to my side. So this was his power? Perfect... Not.
His rough hands scooped and lifted me until I was cradled loosely in his arms. My dad grunted from the doorway; he obviously didn't approve, and neither did I. Martin carefully rose to his feet and crossed over to my bed, laying my limp body under the covers.
I glared up at him, my gaze radiating with hatred, watching his appraising eyes scouring my body. A smug grin crossed his expression. Placing one hand either side of my head, he dropped until his mouth was almost touching my ear. I cringed, the putrid stench of blood tainting the air around me.
"I'll see you tomorrow, princess, the second the sun disappears. And don't forget to bring that pretty outfit of yours - you'll need it."
His voice was almost threatening, but held a challenging tone that I loathed. His icy fingers brushed against my cheek and I was released from his hold, my breath catching in my throat. Without another word, Martin turned and left the room, leaving my father watching me, a disapproving growl rippling through his teeth. My father pulled the door shut behind him and huffed, defeated. The key clicked in the lock - he knew me all too well. Exhausted, I glanced at my alarm clock – 05:36. Flipping onto my side, I resigned myself to a deep and dreamless sleep. I'd think of something tomorrow… I'd have to.
I slinked back into my bedroom and pulled the curtains together, effectively blinding myself.
Moments of hushed conversation alerted me that my parents were downstairs with Desmond and him - Martin. Stupid vampire scum; he looked at me as though I was disposable, nothing but another meal. Crouching close to the ground, I kicked hard from the well worn carpet and bulleted to the top corner of the room, where a large handle waited, concealed in the shadows. I balanced myself precariously against the wall, hanging from the handle by one hand. I darted around the room and bounded across the furniture, grabbing various books and weapons from my bookcases and shelves and replacing them in different areas of the room. My anger slowly depleted.
I paused, noticing for the first time that the conversation downstairs had ceased. A faint brushing of material against the carpet caught my attention and I was startled to the ground, where I crouched with my muscles tense.
I darted back into my closet and silently closed the door, hearing slow cautious footsteps meandering along the hallway. My parents were a lot louder on their feet and had no reason to be slinking around their own home. I changed into a deep blue camisole and black shorts. I favoured dark colours as a general rule to blend with the darkness. I wasn’t afraid of the things that dwell in the night… Usually.
A blinding slice of light stretched under the closet door as my bedroom door swung open and cast an elongated shadow where my feet rooted to the ground. Somebody was in my bedroom… Looking for me. Quiet footsteps padded into the en suite and paused. Perhaps my father checking that I hadn’t escaped?
I edged back against the rear wall of the closet and curled up on the floor. I relaxed my muscles and allowed my eyes to droop shut, feigning sleep. My breathing slowed, a technique I’d practiced since I was only a child.
Slow creeping footsteps paused and the closet door creaked open, the figure casting a shadow in the light from the hallway. A mocking chuckle rippled through my bones and I shivered involuntarily. I knew who was in my bedroom, if only by the ancient rasp in his voice. Vile bloodsucker.
Why was he here? How could my father let him in here without warning me first? He could have at least warned me what his power was. I struggled to keep my limbs limp as he crouched over me, his cool breath on my neck. He leaned in to stroke my cheek with his knuckles and I snatched out suddenly, catching his ice cold wrist. I was paralysed instantly, my muscles losing all substance and my arm falling back to my side. So this was his power? Perfect... Not.
His rough hands scooped and lifted me until I was cradled loosely in his arms. My dad grunted from the doorway; he obviously didn't approve, and neither did I. Martin carefully rose to his feet and crossed over to my bed, laying my limp body under the covers.
I glared up at him, my gaze radiating with hatred, watching his appraising eyes scouring my body. A smug grin crossed his expression. Placing one hand either side of my head, he dropped until his mouth was almost touching my ear. I cringed, the putrid stench of blood tainting the air around me.
"I'll see you tomorrow, princess, the second the sun disappears. And don't forget to bring that pretty outfit of yours - you'll need it."
His voice was almost threatening, but held a challenging tone that I loathed. His icy fingers brushed against my cheek and I was released from his hold, my breath catching in my throat. Without another word, Martin turned and left the room, leaving my father watching me, a disapproving growl rippling through his teeth. My father pulled the door shut behind him and huffed, defeated. The key clicked in the lock - he knew me all too well. Exhausted, I glanced at my alarm clock – 05:36. Flipping onto my side, I resigned myself to a deep and dreamless sleep. I'd think of something tomorrow… I'd have to.