His Wicked Smile

We got back from the doctors office. I stepped into the stone cold mansion, I headed to the kitchen to get some food, right now I had a craving for bacon and bananas.

The past month before today had been pretty boring, apparently the duke that was going to host a party cancelled it due to political differences with the person he was going to throw it for. Well, that's life.

I ignored wherever Amel and Damien went to, I didn't care, I wanted my food.

I opened the fridge and reached into the back part, the cold of the glass pressing against my arm.
Frustrated with not finding it I pushed away everything....
Out of the corner of my eye I saw it go down, the glass container sealing in the red liquid of blood.

It shattered with a surprising sound. The smell was almost intoxicating, no longer was I craving for the human foods, I wanted blood. I breathed it in.

"No! Don't! Don't do that Willow." Damien was in front of me shaking my shoulders. I looked up at him, smelling his blood running through his veins and capillaries.
Coming back to my senses, I shook my head, trying to clear it, force any foreign thought out. Damien stood there and called one of the maids to clean the mess up.

"You can't take human processed blood. Don't you know that? Jesus, Williow, I told you you had to take my blood when the time came, what the hell were you thinking? That could kill the baby!"
His worrisome expression really snapped me back.

This was obviously not one of my better days, I could smell his blood, but worst; I wanted it.

I ran.
And kept running through out the house.
Stopping and breathing heavily I noticed I was in front of the beautiful painting from a while ago.

I looked around, he wouldn't bother looking for me, Amel probably has no clue what's happening. I held up my hand to the canvas of the floor length painting. I touched it lightly not wanting my oils to infect the paint. Immediately the painting became 3-D. It lengthened and made itself life-like.

I waited, for nothing in particular but I did. A few minutes later I decided to stick my arm through. I penetrated the threshold and watched as my arm became canvas-like.

Desperate for something new and exciting, I plunged my entire being into the painting.