The memory of my last encounter with the Count came back to me like a horrible nightmare come alive and I finally let myself break down into a mess of tears and snot. My family... my friends... my brother... gone... It's all his fault... I hated him. I loathed him. I absolutely, positively despised that monster with all my heart and soul! The familiar anger I felt so many times before, boiled over in my veins. I hadn't realized I was balling the sheets in my hands until I felt the familiar wetness of my blood soaking through them and coating my palms in a vibrant red. I quickly unclenched them and began to examine the damage done to my hands from my earlier "escapade". I cursed myself for clutching the wood so tight, because my hands began to sting. Upon closer inspection I realized that they had been bandaged too tightly for me to notice until now. Who the hell did this?... More importantly: why?... Didn't he want me to suffer? Didn't he want me dead? This is weird... I furrowed my brow in confusion and blew a strand of hair from my pale face. I took this time to really look around for an answer to my multitude of questions. Of course this unwanted movement cause my neck to cramp up and the side of my face to ache. I winced and attempted to calm the burning ache with a light touch of my hand and then winced again. Well that was stupid... Despite the pain, I managed to turn my head with moderate ease. The walls were stone but someone had painted them an off-white, I guess to match the sheets. The floor was met by these walls with crown molding, the color matching the walls. It was left unpainted so you could see the gray polished floor. It was smooth and had a creamy look, like if someone had just put a fresh layer of cement on it. I was curious so I kicked of the sheets to rub my shoe against it only to realize that my shoes and socks were gone. I was utterly speechless. I did my best to stand up, with a whole lot of discomfort, and saw that my shirt was actually a white cotton hospital gown. It was hiked up, probably during my rest, and went just past my knees. Someone had changed my clothes. Someone had seen me naked... "OH MY GOD THAT'S SO FUCKING CREEPY!" I shouted at the top of my lungs and quickly covered my mouth and ducked behind the left side of the bed, scared that maybe someone might hear me and come check on me. The thought filled me with fear and I quickly looked around for any way to get out of here. The walls were completely sealed off as far as I could tell. Just as I was about to get up and do a more thorough inspection, the floor at the right side of the bed began to creak and I quickly hobbled my way back into bed and pulled the sheets over me as fast as I could. I shut my eyes just as I saw the top of a black head of hair appear from below. So that's how I get out of here... I pretended to be asleep and tried not to move around as best I could, but I was out of breath from searching for a way out. I could feel a cold hand press against my cheek and stroke its way towards my chin. I pretended to be rustling in my sleep and moaned slightly to deter the stranger from doing that again. It didn't work. I concluded the stranger was male from the size of the hand and felt as he grabbed my chin firmly and brought his face close to mine. What I heard next chilled me to my very core, "I know you're awake, Liyrra." Fuck... My eyes shot open and I tore his hand away from me. I did my best to crawl away from him but hit my head on the metal bars of the bed. Ow. No! Why did it have to be him?! Remembering my earlier attack on him I expected his reaction to be less than happy, but his expression was blank. Still having his head close to where mine once was, he slowly moved it away from me and stood upright, his eyes never leaving mine, holding them with a surprisingly powerful gaze. My stomach was churning again.