Chapter 14:
I don't wake for a while after that. I'm not sure if I'm dead or not. I swaying towards not. Adrian didn't visit me the next day. Or it may have been the next day. Or it could've been a few minutes. But either way, he doesn't visit me again. When I do wake up, there is a clawing sensation in my stomach and that horrible groggy feeling you get after a night of partying or waking up after a long, restless sleep.
My necks stiff when I turn it to look for Stan and Sam. I find the both still in their chairs, with new bite marks their necks and both of them conked out. Their heads are hung low and I hear both of their steady breathing, seeing their chests rise and fall in unison. I don't move, don't even stretch out my stiff limbs, as much as I want too. If I stay completely still maybe no one will come in. I know stringoi have enhanced senses. Hearing being one of them, so I don't make a sound.
I don't bother to look down at myself because I know if I do I will find new bite marks or scratches I don't really want to face. I just want to shrivel up like a rose petal and die. Or fall back in on myself and be by myself without the constant threat and need for a stringoi's bite. With waking up that desire to be bitten is back. As much as I don't want to ever see a stringoi ever again, I long for the bite they can give me, the endorphin rush the comes from their saliva.
I shiver. Don't think about it. Your thinking like an addict whose waiting for their next fix. I look back toward the guardians. They're still asleep and I don't want to wake them. So I just sit, or, well, lie there, not making a sound or moving. It's boring as hell. But it's better than attracting the attention of the stringoi who are lurking in every corner of this house.
I think I may have dozed off for a bit because the next time I open my eyes, I see that Stan and Sam are awake too. Not wide awake, but awake all the same. When I look at their faces they seem relieved to see I'm conscious.
"You were out for a really long time. We thought you may have died." Sam tells me in a hushed voice. I nod my head. "After you became unconscious they..."
"Yeah, I figured that." I say it as if I've heard it all before. But it still comes as a shock to me. I no longer cry over it though. "How many times did it happen? While I was out, I mean." Neither guardians say anything for a moment.
"Three more." Stan murmurs. I barely hear him. So, six now. Joy.
"They bit you a few more times too." Sam add sorrowfully. His face is full of sadness.
"It looks like they bit you too." I point out dryly. I'm just thankful I don't have to watch it happen to them. "Well, on the bright side, free porn?" My words are so uncertain and they sound stupid coming out of my mouth, as if I enjoy what's happening to me.
"Don't talk like that, Greta." Stan snaps before looking down at his lap. "Sorry," I sigh.
"No, it's fine. Both of you look as if you've been in a war. Have you eaten since Marion gave you the soup?" I hope they have been fed since then. They still look pale.
"Yeah, she came back in yesterday with more broth and bread." Sam says, sighing.
"Well, at least it's something." I grimace, my stomach rolling at its lack of food. It grumbles. "You sound like you need some, Greta. A lot of it at that." Stan says with a small smile. I return it dryly. I'm quiet for a few moments.
"Did Marion say when she was coming back?" I ask them hopefully. The hunger was getting to me so much now, all I could think about was food. It was so frustrating. Something I wanted but couldn't have. It was like waving a burger in front of an obese person who's trying to lose weight. Why did I use the analogy? My stomach grumbles.
The room stays silent for a long while after that, as does the rest of the house, for what I believe to be a day. I fall back asleep after a few hours, tired from the hunger and still heavy blood loss.
I dream though. It's one of those super weird dreams that make no sense at all. Something about Oleg Taktarov swimming away from a shark that doesn't exists. But he was pretty much naked, so what didn't really care.
Eventually, I wake and stay awake. I feel drained as I always do when I wake up from sleep that was full of dreams. I really need to brush my teeth. I nod my head in agreement. I feel disgusting, like I've been rolling in a shallow pit of clear oil. I feel it in my pores and my hair. A clammy feeling settled over me a few days ago and it hasn't left. I must have been sweating an awful lot too because I smell funny.
My head pounds. I need water, desperately. I must be dehydrated. I can taste a horrible metallic taste in my mouth and every time I swallow it becomes more intense and awful. The doors thump open but I don't turn to look. I feel too weak to even turn my head. The room stays silent so I don't think it's Nazareth or Leon or any other stringoi. Marion. I think hopefully. When I hear a tray being set down beside me, I know it's her. Still, I don't turn my head. I meant it, I felt far too weak to even open my eyes fully.
"Miss?" Marion breathy voice begins. "I brought you water and food." I just groan quietly. I can't bring myself to look at her. "Miss, please look at me." Her voice pleading.
"Greta," I hear Sam's voice. "Open your eyes." Only then do I open them. My vision looks hazy but corrects itself quickly. I shift my gaze to Marion and she looks relieved. She picks up a glass and puts it to my lips. I open my mouth and welcome the liquid. Gulping it down quickly, I feel some of my energy coming back to me and the water's gone too soon.
"More," I rasp. Marion turns away and refills the glass, bringing it back to my lips. I drink it quickly like before. I'm done soon. Marion chuckles nervously and picks up the food on the tray. She spoon feeds me some kind of pasta. It tastes good, really good. Like the water, I don't savour it and I barely chew it, just swallow it, filling up my stomach.
I feel like a ravenous animal. I eat quickly and not caring who watches. All I do care about is getting food into me and stopping the hungry ache that made home in my tummy. I don't even think of the guardians sitting over there. They're probably hungry too. But I don't realise it until I've finished my food. I turn to Marion. "Is there any for them?" To my happiness, there is.
Like me, Marion spoon feeds them pasta and gives them water. They thank her and so do I. Really, and I mean this literally, she's the only person her who acts like a human. Which is funny because she is one. But then I think, she wants to be one of them and the thought vanishes. I frown. All that niceness would fade away to black once she was awakened.
Marion leaves and we're alone again. I haven't moved at all and now I really feel stiff. The coldness that has been with me since the stringoi took us has lingered around, leaving me shivering, half from the cold, half from something I can't explain. I wish I had a blanket of some form. Even something light would be good right now. I'm not sure if I want to go back to sleep or not. I don't feel tired but want to get away from this hell.
The Swiss Alpes come to mind. I don't know why but they do. I want to be there, I realise after a second. I want to be snuggled up in front of a fire on wolf fur with hot chocolate and a book in my hands. I sigh. Maybe if Lissa or Adrian come again I'll go there. I have a sudden sensation of loneliness. Sleep. I decide. At least there I'll be comforted by my dreams.
But sleep doesn't come. No. I just lie there with my eyes closed but not heavy the way they are when you're tired. It's no surprise seeing as I'm not at all sleepy. But I want it desperately. It seems, in the last week, it has become one of my only vices. I don't particular want to face the other.
Am I turning into a blood whore? The thought shocks my eyes open. Am I? Could I be becoming one? I shiver again. I don't want to be one. Dhampir girls and women who aren't guardians are frowned upon. Usually, they don't become one because they have family commitments, thanks to Moroi men. Some of these women live in communes, as well as communities. Many of their lovers visit them often and the term 'blood whore' is given to them because people believe that they give blood during sex. Doing this has to be one the most kinkiest things in out society and is deeply shamed. But to become a blood whore would take many bites. But you've had many stringoi biting you at once. Do they count for multiply singular bites? I don't know but my mind leans towards yes. Just the fact that from every bite I got, my pleasure increased two fold. I'm a blood whore. The thought makes me angry. With myself really. I hate that only a bite can make me submit myself to the stringoi. I hate that the stringoi know that it does. One bite, and I'm gone, with nothing able to return me but them taking the mouths off my skin.
I look down at myself, facing the knew bites that adorn my body. I see two more on my breasts, five more on my legs. I know I have some on my wrists that are new. The sight of them sickens yet thrills me. I remember the pleasure and bliss I got from the stringoi's bite, but then the aftermath makes my stomach turn over. I hate how I look. I hate that I even look like a blood whore. I look like a blood whore. I feel tears sting my eyes but I quickly blink them away. It will not cry, not about this. I'll save my tears for the death of someone I love.