Author's Note: Thanks so much for all the feedback! I'm hoping you enjoy the set-up and execution of this story. Things are going to get a little dark, but I'll try not to make them too painful to read. Stabbing you in the heart in the first arc of the story isn't exactly going to leave much of an audience for the awesome conclusion I have in store for you, dear readers!
Chapter 2: Bloody Hell
Hungry. So hungry.
Severus opened his eyes slowly in the darkness.
"Unghhh," he moaned, trying to move his arms in vain.
His eyes snapped open and he tried in earnest to sit up, twisting his head in the gloom to see what had him held fast to the bed.
With a burst of clarity, it was as though a light had come on, and he could see though there were no torches or windows around. There were silver manacles binding his wrists and, as he tried to move his ankles, his feet as well. He wasn't uncomfortable, other than the slight pinching sensation at his wrists and ankles when he struggled, but it concerned him.
He tried to think back. He'd been doing his homework in the library, minding his own business...something had hit him in the back...some kind of hex…
He worried at his lip with his teeth, a nervous habit he'd developed back when he was a child and gasped sharply when something in his mouth pierced his skin.
What are these….FANGS?!
He suppressed a gasp, unsure as to whether anyone was nearby. Turning his head, from side to side, he noticed that his bed was completely surrounded by thick, velvet curtains that stretched from floor to ceiling without letting even the smallest crack of ambient light through.
And then, a soft voice came back to him. The vampire. He...he had….
"Oh god," he said aloud, his voice rasping horribly as he spoke.
A noise made him turn his head to his right. Even though the thick curtains obstructed his view, somehow he could see shapes silhouetted in red against the fabric. Human shapes. It was almost as though he was seeing…
"Blood," he rasped, sounding, if anything, even more horrible than he had before.
He focused his ears on the sound, and found that he could hear a voice growing clearer, though the red outline through the curtain was quite far away.
"-And let the Headmaster know that he's awake," she was saying.
He knew that voice.
"Madam Pomfrey," he gurgled, speaking more loudly even though the exertion felt like blades churning in his throat. "Please. I'm so thirsty."
The Medi-witch's heat signature approached the curtains but she stopped just short of the fabric and bent towards him as though about to whisper conspiratorially.
"I am so sorry, Severus," she said primly, "But Headmaster Dumbledore has forbidden me to cross through these curtains until he has come to check on you first.
"Can...can you at least….tell me how long I've been here?" Severus replied, fighting the urge to scream. It felt as though his throat was being torn to shreds.
The medi-witch hesitated for a moment, and Severus knew that this was a bad sign. He'd come to the infirmary more than most students, but even when his injuries were fairly serious, nothing ever came of it. Still, he'd developed a rapport with Madam Pomfrey in a way that he hadn't been able to with the other adults at Hogwarts, except for maybe Filch, who gave Severus some pocket change if he did various odd jobs and ran errands in Hogsmeade for the caretaker.
"You've been here for eight days. We weren't sure for awhile, there, Severus," she said softly, "You...you stopped breathing…"
Severus looked down at his chest and realized that the instinctive rise and fall of his chest only seemed to occur when he took a breath to speak or actively tried to do so. The beating of his heart seemed ridiculously slow when he focused on it, and he frowned. His brain felt fuzzy. If he'd been able to focus, something told him that he'd already know the answer, and that frustrated him immensely.
"I'm so thirsty," he groaned, trying to play the sympathy card.
Instead of going to grab the pitcher of water she kept in her office, Madam Pomfrey's heat image stiffened and she seemed to quiver for a moment before she replied.
"I'm so sorry, Severus. You'll have to wait for the Headmaster."
She turned, then, and walked away. He could hear her low heels tapping against the tile of the infirmary and closed his eyes, steeling his courage to swallow the lump that was growing larger and larger in his burning throat. He couldn't bring his hands to touch the skin of his neck, but the pain was great enough that he felt as though it must be covered in blood. Rich, hot, red….blood….
His eyes shook and went unfocused at the thought of it and he let out another moan, this one filled with hunger.
A terrified squeak erupted from his left and he turned to see the red heat image of a girl sitting up in the hospital bed next to his, clutching the sheets. She was small, probably a third year at most. Her fingers were bright red against the cool blue of the fabric, and he hungered for the blood that ran under them.
He rattled his chains, listlessly at first and then with more vigor until the entire bed vibrated. They made a fearsome racket but remained in place and he snarled, feeling something hard and needle sharp unfurl and extend as his mouth opened wide.
"Thirsty!" he screamed, his voice breaking. "Thirsty!"
Severus was so, so angry, so full of confusion and famished in a way that he'd never felt before in his life (though he was no stranger to starvation). He flailed in impotent rage, rattling the metal shackles and the bed until he thought it would collapse under him, though it never did.
He hoped Dumbledore would be there soon.
He would drain the bastard dry.
