Chapter 2: The Call
I'm now twenty years old—well I look twenty anyways. My hair use to be a dirty blonde color, but the change made my hair become a vibrant red. My eyes, which were once grey in color, are now teal. My figure is slim with narrow hips and skinny arms. I live in a town called Tarrana. It is about 200 miles south of Yarxa.
"Good evening Ms. Emilia," George, a fellow vampire, smiles as I pass him on my way up to my apartment. He used my blood name so no one could track me.
"Good evening Mr. George," I reply curtly. I don't like the fellow—He's strange. He doesn't like to drink human blood.
As I make my way up the staircase, my heels click together. This makes me think of my father. His steps were so sharp, that they sounded like a lady's three inch heels. My heart falls. Just last year my father was destroyed by the Accents.
I sigh inwardly as I reach my apartment.
"So you're back!" Rupert, one of my "customers", exclaims opening the door. "I thought you had forgotten all about my massage appointment!"
"Not at all," I replied smoothly as I showed him to my massage table. "How could I forget? I practically live for this."
Rupert did not get the warning message in my voice, which was not surprising, and just smiled and laid down on the soft mattress.
"You'll feel a bit of pain, but nothing serious," I explained to him as I began massaging his shoulders.
"Alright," he answered in a soft voice. "I understand."
I slowly lowered my mouth on to his neck and bit down—hard.
"Ow!" he cried. "What in the name of-!"
His head fell back down to the mattress. I had injected enough venom to knock him out. The rest of the drinking process was quick and undisturbed.
Someone rapped at my door. I quickly picked up the bones, meat, and flesh and shoved it down the garbage shute (George would pick it up later). I wondered who it could be at this hour?