Disclaimer: Yeah.
A/N: Well long time no see. I've finally got back into the school routine. Ick. So I decided to once again, make a totally different story. Don't worry, My Different Ending is still in progress, the next chp. for that should be up within the next week or so. Anyhoo, well as you might have guessed this story is about out favorite crazy, scarlett haired vampire: Victoria. Well I tired to find out as much as I could about her but the truth is there just isn't that much to find out. I've always wanted to read a story about how Victoria grew up, what was her life like? I couldn't find one so I decided to make one myself. Most of the times and dates are just my imagination. Feedback would be great.
Enjoy.
July 17, 1813.
My back was stiff from leaning over the basin full of scalding hot water. My arms we sore from lifting the countless amount of clothing from table to table. I cringed at the dull ache that stretched across my shoulders as I lifted my hands to my head. Pulling my crimson locks away from my flushed face.
I frowned in distaste as I looked around the cellar. Soiled clothes made mountains in every corner. The ancient wallpaper fell away from the walls, discolored from years of smoke. The recent flooding made the stench of mildew very apparent in the humid air. Rows of steel tubs lined the walls and added to the slightly claustrophobic feel of the room.
Steam filled the air that made it hard to breathe. I yawned as I wiped the sweat from my brow. It had been almost three days since I last laid down to sleep. But sleep was not my first concern, after all I had Master's clothes to wash, things were to be done before his arrival later tonight. I hate to admit it, but I enjoyed myself much more when he was away, "spreading the good news" as he liked to call it.
To the outside world he was a wonderful man, one with the lord, giver to the poor, handsome. But my fellow workers and I knew better. His name is Dumas Labonté. Ranging alcoholic, abuser, uncontrollable temper. He thought us, the maids, the salves, lower than himself. We were impure, dirty. His way of purifying us was to get rip-roaring drunk then beat us to a bloody pulp. Till there was nothing left. Most of them didn't make it.
I did. I thought I was lucky. Not true. Sometimes I was used for more than just chores. It makes me sick to even think about it, I dread the nights. The nights I would be so alone. The nights I had to warm his bed. I have been here for four years, since I was seventeen.
Mama died of cancer and Papa had a debt he owed. Me. But that's the past, it's of no use to me now.
Master had only two rules: Obey the Lord, and never call him his name. Ever.
When I first arrived I addressed him as Dumas, his belt made contact with my back so fast, I didn't have time flinch. "That'll teach you." Yeah, it did.
I was brought back to the present but the heavy thud of footsteps above my head. The sounds of muffled screams, clattering dishes, breaking glass, only meant one thing.
He's home.
I looked around in panic as I realized I had not finished my washing. I took in shallow breaths as I attempted to call myself. The stairs creaked at the weight being forced upon them. I held back a gasp as the door flew open and he stepped into view.
His raven hair fell across his face as he sauntered toward me. The odor from his skin melded into the air. From here I could smell the stench of alcohol woven deep in his breath. His emerald eyes twitched as he noticed the piles of my unfinished work.
He took a quick step forward and I stifled a sob as I realized I had been caught. I looked behind him, calculating the distance to the door. He was five inches taller and had at least fifty pounds on me. There was no chance. He knew it, I knew it.
This could be the end.
"You lazy little bitch," he yelled as his hands circled my neck and I was pushed down to the ground.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm almost finished!" I pleaded as his face went a strange shade of red.
"Lord cleanse this child of the evil that has infested her soul," he yelled while his fingers dug deeper into my skin. He shook my limp body roughly from side to side while muttering the Lord's prayer. He held hosted me above the floor and held me there. Minutes past and my lungs could take it no longer. My vision started to get cloudy, I was running out of time. I tried with all my strength to free myself from his grasp. I succeeded by elbowing him in the side of his rib cage. He threw me to the floor while bringing his hands to his side, grunting in pain.
I gasped and coughed as deprived cold air filled my lungs. My throat burned with bile. I quickly turned my head and out spilled the contents of my stomach. The walls were spinning in all directions. I wiped my mouth and pressed my cheek against the cool concrete of the cellar floor.
He wasn't finished.
His fingers entwined themselves into my hair as he dragged me up to face him. "Laziness is a sin, you lame wench," his shouted. I screamed in pain as his fingernails scraped across my skin, drawing blood. A numb feeling spread like wings across my back as he shoved me hard against the wall.
"God forgive her for she knows not what she has done," he roared as the back of my head smacked against the wall. For a moment my world went dark
I used all the strength I had left to dig my nails into his cheeks. He flinched at the sharp pain. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as he fist made contact with my face, I screamed out in agony. He hands fell from my collar as I dropped to the floor.
He make a sick sound in the back of his throat as he spat at my face. He wiped his mouth and said something I couldn't understand. His foot came in contact with my back as I pulled me knees to my chest and started to sob. He knelt down to my level and whispered into my ear, "Next time, I won't stop until your skin is blue." and with that he kissed my cheek, smiled and left the room, locking the door behind him.
Hysterical sounds shook my body as I realized: Death would be better than this.
What'd ya think?
til next time.