AMNESIA
Clare paused as she heard the elevator doors slide shut behind her. The corridor was quiet and she suddenly felt doubt creep up on her.
How did she know that this Elijah wasn't lying and simply abandoning her?
Her past experience with vampires proved them to be untrustworthy and dangerous – how did she know he would protect and save her? Was this a clever set-up by those following her and just a trap?
Clare's footsteps faltered further until she stumbled to a complete stop. She leant her body against the wall next to her and rested her head briefly against it too, suddenly very tired. She'd been running like this for two days now with barely any idea as to who she was beyond that of what her drivers license could tell her. No idea why she was being hunted down by a pack of blood thirsty vampires. No idea of…anything, really. Did she have a job? A family? She'd managed to mis-place her past so easily and she'd no idea as to how she'd done it.
Clare's body stiffened suddenly as her eyes fell on the glass box on the wall opposite.
The past two days had taught her to trust no one. She had no idea what her personality had been like before those two days, but now she was desperate, untrusting – she'd trained herself quickly in the art of self-preservation.
Clare bent down quickly and ripped off a strip from the bottom of the black cocktail dress she wore. The dress now fell dangerously short to just above mid-thigh, but she couldn't bring herself to care: the material of the dress was disgusting, anyway – covered in gore and blood and ruining it further couldn't hurt.
She wrapped the strip of cloth several times round her hand, ensuring it covered her knuckles properly before folding her fingers into a fist shape. She took a deep breath, glancing once again at the case before her before smashing her fist into it.
The glass shattered immediately upon contact, shards of it biting into her wrist and forearm but she was completely oblivious to the pain as she stared at the prize before her.
The glass case had held the basic fire safety tools – a hose, fire extinguisher and axe. Clare reached for the latter, swearing under her breath when her arms almost popped out of their sockets at its weight.
The axe's wicked broad, half moon blade on one side of the head and curved spike on the other made the weapon seem overly threatening and dangerous for something that was intended to save lives. Clare was hoping if it was made to hack through a door or wall to get to someone on the other side, then the axe would just as easily serve a purpose for swinging at some vengeful vampires.
She gingerly held the axe out before her again, pausing for a few more moments to inspect it before running on down the corridor, which was long, with many twists and corners. She counted almost forty doors as she ran.
For a while Clare panicked that the elevator was the only means of transportation to and from levels, but then she realized that was silly – in the event of a fire or black out all buildings this modern had some kind escape-route that didn't rely on electricity.
Rounding a final corner Clare reached what she'd been hoping to find – a stair well. It wasn't overly ornate – the hotel being a small town one – but the polished oak steps were clean, and she instantly felt self-conscious of the state she must be in.
She froze as she stepped out onto the landing of the stairs. She could hear voices of guests as they made their way up the steps, loud and cheerful and she could only imagine the response if they were to see her: covered in blood and wielding an axe - nobody would believe she wasn't anything but a crazy murderer. It ruled out any way of getting down to ground level and finding a deserted alley like Elijah had wanted so Clare turned and ran up the stairs in search of the roof.
The fact that her options had already been restricted made fear push through her veins even more potently as she climbed the steps in a hurried run. The thought that had always run through her mind these past two days every time she encountered vampires; is this it, beat like a pulse in her body. Is this it? Is this it?
Is this the time she wouldn't be smart enough, strong enough or careful enough? One mistake would be fatal, and she couldn't even be sure she trusted this Elijah's offer of help.
What if there were more vampires than she could handle this time? What if these vampires were stronger than the ones she'd faced before?
Clare could never actually remember committing the act of murdering a vampire – only her intentions to. Amnesia, she often thought.
Something had happened two days ago that had caused her to loose her entire memory of her whole pervious life, and then to black out at sporadic intervals.
The first thing she could ever remember of her existence was waking up on a forest floor, with leaves and twigs in her hair in the very same black cocktail dress she was wearing now.
To begin with she'd debated with finding a hospital to get her vitals checked, figure out what had happened to her, but then the vampires came and the timings between the blackouts began to close up. On the first day it had been once, by the time the second day had come around, black outs were barely an hour, sometimes minutes apart. The fact that her hold on herself was now wavering meant that Clare was terrified of anything and everything. A desperate person was the most dangerous kind, she knew. They'd try anything and do anything, and that was exactly what was happening to her.
She climbed more stairs. By this time her throat was burning, her lungs on fire. The oxygen she breathed seemed intent on scalding her airways. More stairs.
Clare kept on running until she got to a fire exit, her whole body crashing into the door as she pressed down on the bar and stumbled into a blissfully less public stair well.
She paused for a second. Up or down?
She'd originally intended to make for a deserted street on the ground – simply to get out of this damned hotel – but the ground would be more public. If Elijah was going to help her, the roof would be a more private battle ground. If she got out the hotel and onto a busy road it would be easier to steal a car and get away by herself…Fight or flight? How much did she want those following her gone? Her much longer did she want to run for? It had only been two days and Clare was already exhausted.
It all came down to whether or not she trusted that this man would help her, and something about him, something about his demeanor made her hesitate and glance up the stairs. If she made for the roof…if he didn't meet her there, she was as good as trapped. Would the vampires know she was up there? Were they following her now?
Slowly, Clare placed her foot on the step in front of her, then on the next one. Right foot, left foot. She was climbing up, her decision made: she would trust him. And what was she supposed to say to herself to justify that choice? I'm afraid of being alone right now. I don't know anyone, I don't know who my family are, if I have a family. I need to understand where I fit into this world and what's happening to me. And it went deeper: I don't recognize myself. I don't even know who I am.
She wanted safety. She wanted protection.
Clare's movements became more sure and faster with each passing step. This stair well was smaller than the last one. It ascended steeply and appeared so narrow it wasn't possible to go up it without scraping an elbow along a wall on either side. Both steps and walls were made of the same grey cement, the stairs twisting in a spiral shape as Clare climbed higher. The darkness was broken by a few dim light bulbs hanging by chords and her breath came out in sharp pants as she struggled to maintain her speed as she climbed.
The stairs stopped abruptly with the presence of the next fire exit door and Clare reached out and threw it open hurriedly.
There was rushed glimpse of a white-blue sky before something hit her hard and she was sent hurtling back down the steps she'd just climbed. No, Clare thought, but there weren't the words.
She fell on the sharp edges of steps, her finger-tips scrambling for purchase on something that would stop herself from continuing the fall.
She was dimly aware of the panic of not knowing where her axe was, the awareness that it was no longer in her grasp and the worry - was it anywhere near enough for her to land on? With that thought, Clare twisted, more desperate than even to stop her fall. Her hand found purchase on the step above her, the rest of her body curling up with the whiplash of her sudden halt.
Clare gasped as the pain hit her. She wasn't sure if she'd broken anything but her skin felt bruised, her whole body one bunched up muscle of pain.
A boot appeared in her vision and just as soon as she registered that fact she felt another blow to her abdomen. She cried out, tumbling down another two or three steps and this time when she stopped she crawled to her hands and knees and spat out blood.
She struggled to her feet, trying to make herself as small as possible as she came face to face with a blond haired vampire.
Tall, he seemed to fill the entirety of the small space of the stair well – his face contorted in an expression of utmost loathing.
The vampire's fist went through the wall just where Clare's head would have been had she not ducked under his arm quickly, sprinting back up the stairs and away from him. She didn't feel much pain, but that was simply because she might have gone too numb with the shock of it all.
The elastic which had held Clare's red hair in its bun had been removed during her fall and loose, the vampire now was able to fist his hand in it and jerk her back.
Clare felt the same hand close round her throat; her head collide with the wall, again and again. Stunned, she could do little more that freeze up under the creature's intense hate for her, unmoving like some kind of rag doll at his hands.
In her daze, she almost welcomed the idea of dying. While a primitive fear kept stirring in her, the pain of her body and the lost illusions of her life made her wish for some kind of a conclusion for this all to come as swiftly as possible.
The force of the next blow as the vampire rammed her head against the wall caused the lamp above their heads to swing to and fro, giving uneven flashes of light.
Clare could see shadowy grey as it swung away from her, then light as it swung back towards them, then a face of bared fangs and angry eyes, then blissful darkness again as the light swung away.
"You just won't die, will you?" The vampire sneered, and though her head was spinning, she managed to form a response.
"Never," she snarled – and spat a mixture of blood and saliva into his face.
Time seemed to pause. The lamp swung towards them wildly again, suddenly bathing Clare's face in light – her white skin and dark eyes shown in stark relief against the grey wall behind her – before it swung away again, plunging them both into sudden blackness.
