My Precious Nightmare

Chapter 35: Vampires Like Closets

The man who met her when she walked out her home to get the mail had bone-white hair, though what she could see of his face past the black sunglasses was ivory smooth and unwrinkled. Even before she caught the whiff of rust she knew what he was.

Black-clawed hands reached out.

Then she opened her eyes to darkness, lost as to how she had come there, her wrist throbbing dully where Husani had bitten. Though she laid on something soft and there was a blanket over her, she shivered hard and the air was rank with dust and rat pee. She sat up, heart in her throat, and felt around, but her hands hit walls, and finally, a door. So she was in a closet or a cell of some sorts.

Even as the fear dried her mouth and spiked her gut painfully, a part of her had known something like this would happen eventually.

The door wouldn't move in or out, and she could find no door handle. The foam pad that made the floor of the closet and her new bed covered the crack beneath the door. When she pulled it back no light shone through. So she wrapped herself up tight in the musty blanket and ducked her head into her arms. Only then did she try to comprehend the chill that settled within her.

She was probably going to die. And, as far as she could tell, there was nothing she could do about it. Admitting it made a bit of strange calm settle over her. The fear and dread still cramped her stomach, but there was no jittering or crying. For that, she was thankful.

The door hinges creaked and a draft of new air brushed over her. She jerked up, but couldn't see anything still. It was as dark outside the door as it was inside.

A cold hand cupped her face.

"Pity you can't be changed. Such pretty eyes."

The unfamiliar baritone sent shivers down her back. The thought of running didn't even occur to her, not in such blinding darkness.

She smelled rust again.

"Hungry? Need a bathroom break?"

There was no kindness in that voice. In fact, there was hardly any emotion at all. It sounded almost robotic.

Lea didn't trust herself to speak.

Whoever held her face sighed short and quick and his hand moved from her chin to grip the side of her throat.

The next thing she knew, a wet mouth mashed against the side of her neck and bit deep. She cried out in pain and tried to jerk back, but his arms went around her like barrel bands, hard as stone and just as cold. A great mass of scratchy hair pooled over her face, chest, and shoulder, getting into her mouth and eyes, rank with the smell of blood and salt.

Her head spun, brightening the darkness with runs of gray stars and streams. Her muscles went weak and finally snapped. She fell back. The vampire followed to become a hard, heavy, unyielding mass upon her.

Only a minute or so later, though, he pulled back, unhinging his teeth from her artery with a sharp smack of pain and cold. Something smooth and taut wrapped about her neck, only loose enough to allow her to breathe.

"No doubt about it, you're one of them," said the voice, ringing with satisfaction. "Now, I think it goes without saying that if you want to stay alive and in relative comfort, you'll be as meek as a lamb and do as I say. Get up."

His weight lifted, but he didn't give her the chance to even see if she could stand. A claw-like hand clamped about her forearm and hoisted her to her feet. Her side slammed into the side of the closet-like cell as her knees buckled and her consciousness warbled. Whatever he said next, she didn't hear, but the arm yanked her forward, then an arm hooked about her stomach as her knees gave way. As her vision cleared, she found herself being painfully carried about her middle and held to a man's side. His black steel-toed shoes clomped some inches from her dangling fingertips. Light. There was light. She could see.

The black boots stepped onto dirty white tiles and the dim light became blinding. He dropped her onto the tiles.

"Take care of yourself," he said gruffly. A door closed, pushing her rump in the last few inches.

She only allowed herself a few seconds to feel the icy tiles before slowly sitting up, squinting. A stained toilet in one corner. A ceramic sink half peeled from the wall beside it. A lone, naked shower head hanging above it all. The room was no bigger than the closet she had just left.

Shaking so hard she feared all her joints would simply snap, Lea pulled herself to her feet with the help of the stained toilet and, telling herself not to think about the insides, 'took care of business.' Then she numbly washed her hands in the cold sink until the vampire opened the door and yanked her back outside into the dim lighting. Lea could just make out a distant wall of cinderblock and riveted steel before he yanked open a door nearby and threw her inside. She saw what her hands had told her before. A door with a steel handle on the outside and steel door jam, but nothing inside.

"There will be food, so no whining," said the vampire.

She turned around just in time to see his bone-white hair and face. Then the door slammed closed with a thrum of metal and the door jam pushed into place.

His eyes she thought, and even as something acidic clawed up her throat. They were black. No white, just black and red.

Then the pain of the bites fell away to her sudden, blinding need for air.