LUST FOR BLOOD
CONDEMNED
Death is an endless abyss of darkness that consumes the soul and violates its purity with a lethal dose of demise. The sun and all traces of light are drowned by iniquity and isolated in another world untouchable by corruption. Envy and jealously linger in the atmosphere. Life is choked from throats, snatched from hearts, erased from minds. Nothing remains but a frozen corpse eaten away over time, by a fattening Hell. Memories, in remembrance of a lifetime, are erased and forgotten.
"Aren't you the least bit curious as to why we have taken you?" Isaac questioned me, leaning his head forward to peer at my face. It was maddening to think that such an angelic voice could escape from the lips of a monster. His long arm stretched behind me, balanced on the peek of the leather car seat.
I sat silent, paying attention to the veins of rain that trailed down the window. Every time his voice sounded over the drumming rhythm hitting the metal roof of the vehicle, my heart leaped furiously. We were isolated in the back of the car, together, side by side, with no one to hear us beyond the closed glass window opening to the driver. Maybe, if I kept to myself, Isaac would lose interest in me, and stop trying to force words from my knotted throat.
Fingers gathered under my chin and pulled my face away from the window. Isaac's hands were abnormally cold, and sent a silent shiver traveling down my spine. The aroma that escaped from his body overwhelmed my senses, as I was drawn closer to him.
"You're an intriguing girl." Isaac purred, tilting his face nearer to mine. A mischievous smile rounded his cheeks as he leaned his entire body my way.
Terrified, and confused, I retaliated and forced my back against the car door. The coldness of the window pierced its way to my scalp, which it chilled on contact. Even the glass, I figured, failed in comparison to Isaac's skin.
"Fearing me won't help you understand your valuable purpose." He whispered to me. Isaac caged my head between his arms that weighed against the car door.
Confounded by Isaac's advances, I bent my head downwards, inevitably shielding my face from him. A stinging sensation evaded my eyes, breaking the dam holding my tears securely invisible. Silent drops of salt water plummeted down my burning cheeks, falling as they reached the edge of my chin. The last time I cried, I remembered, was when a group of careless girls from the orphanage found it amusing to throw rocks at me. Of course, this memory brought more tears streaming from my eyes, and soon, my vision was blurred.
After escaping from the orphanage, camouflaged as a home, I thought I would finally be free to lead my proper life. Now, it seems I was never meant to know the meaning of the word. The dreams that welled up inside of me were illusions that would never pass into realism. Though, not only was I found in another sort predicament, but one that resembled a sort of Hell on earth. Never would I have thought that my eyes would witness a murderous death. As a result, the world, in my opinion, was corrupted by violence and immoral intentions. There was no place for a girl, such as myself, to mould into society, when civilisation itself was haunted by hopelessness.
As I came to, Isaac had returned to his side of the car, looking frustrated and disturbed as he stared through his window. This surprised me, as I thought he wouldn't, merely, grovel away at the sign of a weakness drawn from me. Though, concededly, I accepted the outcome generously.
The next time I peered through the window, a vast plain of grass blanketed the ground, while a large house broadly stood in the distance. When the car reached the house, it eased to a smooth stop and cut the engine. Someone circled to the car door and opened it, awaiting me to exit from the confinements of the vehicle. The same was done to Isaac, who, without a word of gratitude, left the car and proceeded towards the front door of the mansion.
Post my leave; I thanked the tall driver, who acknowledged my reply with a nod of his head, before running back and entering the car once more. I followed the crowd of men, who had trailed behind Isaac, in separate vehicles, as they made their way up the steps of the house. Isaac's minions, as I called them, implicated an entirely new atmosphere. Just as I was about to enter the home, the men stopped and waited for me to go inside, before continuing on their way indoors. Relief flowed through my senses, and I felt, in the longest time, my heart slow its rhythmic beat.
The inside of the mansion was rich and extravagant. Carved furniture and expensive materials covered the house, from silk to satin. Windows, larger than any size I've ever seen, dominated most of the wall that they occupied. Red drapes flowed on either side of the window frames, prepared to shield the interior with its thick, impenetrable cloth. The shades of the walls varied from crimson red to ink black, sending a gothic impression throughout the house.
As the crowd moved down one hallway, it opened up into another, facilitating a maze for us to unravel, as we made our way to an isolated destination. Men, large and small, talked amongst themselves, joking and discussing unfamiliar topics. I observed them with interest, my attention jumping from one presence to the next.
Dozens of doors occupied the hallways, intriguing my curiosity, as I tried to open them but having the handles locked from the outside. No matter.
"Hey, girl!" Shouted a hushed voice behind me. I turned around to find a young girl who was peeking her head slightly out a door. Her eyes were fixed on me, roofed by thick blonde bangs.
I looked back at the crowd of men moving forward, watching to see if they would notice my sudden halt in mobilisation. They continued down the hallway, completely unaware of my declining presence. When the crowd was a safe distance away, I turned on my heels and met up with the girl who continued to protrude her head out the door.
"Hello," She said, formulating herself in front of me. "You must be Evelyn." The girl smiled crookedly, taking my hand in hers and pulling me into the room she currently occupied. There was no time for me to react to the sudden shift in events. I complied to her invitation, almost unwillingly, and allowed myself to be dragged into the estranged room.
Her room was decorated so that toys and childish themes conquered every corner of the rectangular space. The bed she jumped onto was in the shape of a heart, covered in dolls and colourful pillows. Though the room seemed innocent, an eerie feeling escaped from its confinements. The walls were a deep red, as was the shag carpet, with toys shattered about its flat surface.
When I looked up at the small girl, clothed in a doll-like dress made of white cotton fabric, my mind rang in alarm.
She swayed her feet to and fro, while seating on the edge of her bed. "My name's Sarah." She proudly informed me, smiling all the while. Her eyes were dark, almost black. The blonde hair she had was styled into pigtails, shaped with thick spirally curls. She seemed innocent enough.
"How do you know my name?" I asked gently, as if I was talking to a young child, though my feelings suspected differently. Without judgement, I stepped forward, lowering the distance between us.
"Isaac told me." She revealed, her eyes lighting up as she recited his name. "A visitor always comes every once and awhile to our house." The girl explained, but without much detail.
I narrowed my brow. "What kind of visitors?" I asked cautiously, stopping myself from conducting any further movement.
"Mortals." She answered, her smile growing.
What she said didn't make sense. Of course mortals would be coming in and out of the house. Humans are considered mortals. Why, a large group of men just passed by this room on their way to somewhere located in the house.
"That's an interesting way of putting it." I laughed nervously, eyeing the girl with a bewildered observation.
The child tilted her head to one side, confused. "You don't believe me?" She asked, disappointment crossing her face. Her legs stopped rocking, and she jumped off the bed onto her feet.
"Of course I believe you." I smiled reassuringly. "Tell me more about visitors like myself." Hopefully, encouraging the girl will allow me to discover the truth of my abduction. "What's the purpose of us coming here?"
"Your blood." She replied, glancing at my neck. The doll child moved towards me and stopped with only a footing of space between us. When she peered up at me from underneath her straight cut bangs, I noticed her pale skin.
"Blood?" My voice hesitated to repeat. There was something morbidly wrong hidden in those words that slithered from the child's mouth. She enjoyed saying them, and smiled suddenly, as if reacting to her own thoughts.
She nodded. "Your blood is special to us. Consuming it means possessing ultimate power."
Consume ultimately meant one thing. I knew what she conveyed by those words, but my reaction unjustifiably thwarted the girl from reading my actual feelings towards her comment. I remained calm, forcing the smile curving my lips to linger on.
I needed to know more. "Why is my blood special?" The insistence on the subject weakened the sense of encouragement failing in my system. Knowing how I would react to the discoveries leaking from the girl's mouth was impossible to predict. I would have to be smart in response, though, if the information being revealed was to continue productively.
"There are a small number of humans around the world who possess a rare blood type, produced by the pureness embellishing through their souls." The blonde child explained. "When a human with this particular blood type is also, in fact, a virgin and has not committed any sort of sin, their blood continues to purify to the point that its sacred and overcome by an agent that allows us to duplicate our strength." The girl plucked a doll from the ground, at her feet, and petted its head with her stubby fingers. "Every time we consume the Offering's blood, a new level of power is gained."
"The Offering? Is that what I'm called?" I asked persistently, growing impatient as I watched the girl's attention draw away from the conversation. She walked along her room, fiddling with random objects as I rambled on, implying for constant answers that were beginning to unveil the condemnation of my fate.
The child turned to me, every ounce of happiness drained from her face. "You are the Offering, and I, the Consumer."