Bromley Marks, Basement, Confinement Cell #27
She was alone again when her consciousness returned. She was also back in a horizontal position, though on a much more uncomfortable surface. Her back ached and her muscles contracted painfully as she rolled herself into a sitting position, massaging her forehead gingerly. There were questions rolling around in her head again, some of them stupid questions, some unimportant ones too and all without answers. First and foremost - what is going to happen to me?
Her father may have planned this. He may have not. He may have had no other choice but to throw her in here, now that she had made it crystal-clear that her loyalties still led with her dying race rather than with the only family she had left. The only relative she had ever had really. But to trap her in a cell? It only confirmed her knowledge of vampires' emotionless state when it came down to it.
Human life had no value other than being sustained in order to survive on their blood. A human injures you; you either drain them yourself or hand them over to a farming facility. So why was she confined yet again instead of being sucked empty? Wouldn't she deserve such treatment after stabbing him? Questions with no answers.
Her eyes began to scan her surroundings, habit kicking in once more as she sought to distract herself from what could be and might happen. Her mind needed to be occupied with something other than painting pictures of her impending death, however it may come upon her. Perhaps a simple cut of her throat? No, what a waste. She would be drained first. Probably alive to elongate her period of usefulness.
She shook the speculations away with effort. Thinking about it made her sick to the stomach. Instead she began to let her body do the analyzing, running her fingers along the seams of the room, the texture of the concrete walls and the feeble warmth of the embedded white lights. No secret doors of course.
There were no stains on the ground but somehow she felt it in her body that there had been creatures in this very space who had spent their last moments on this floor. That didn't exactly comfort her. She paced the perimeter of the cell a few times, counting each step without even being fully aware of it. None of these steps were taking her closer to freedom anyway. A sound akin to a laugh escaped her mouth as she realized that in here might actually be the closest she would come to safety. Just how pitiful could you get?
She sank down into the darkest corner she could find, legs angled as closely as possible to her body with her arms tucked around them. It was all she could do to stay sane in this world that was slowly decomposing into savage demons that would sink their teeth into another, hiding behind their human faces.
Her back felt wedged between the two walls and she could feel the cold settling on her skin through the thin top. Where her jacket had gone, she couldn't recollect. Someone must have taken it off her. Maybe they wanted to kill her through hypothermia, she mused bitterly.
Her lids gradually slackened to shield her eyes from the glare of the lights that tinged everything in ethereal blues and grays. She was tired. Tired of so many things that could not even compare to her physical fatigue. Letting go of the waking world, even for only a few hours, grew simpler and simpler with every minute. A tiny part of her wished that she'd never open her eyes again. She just wanted to stop fighting and stop feeling that crushing fear wherever she travelled.
She had never felt seriously suicidal before in her entire life but sometimes…sometimes she wondered if it would not be easier to end this existence.
Become immortal? No. She'd not once considered it. Her father's pleading had stayed in her mind for the first few months after her departure but she'd never played with the offer seriously. Never. Her resolution had solidified in these years of separation. She would not become a vampire. Not if anybody's will was forced upon her, not even to save another human. She'd rather die for that person than become something like that. Death was different. Death would be final, the way out that was her choice alone, not that of her father.
Her head finally slumped onto her knees as she let sleep conquer her for the time being. There was an unknown amount of time left for her, maybe just a few minutes and she wanted to find peace for those moments until she would be faced with new horrors. She knew they'd come, inevitably, but for now she dusted the worries away along with her hope for a miracle.
The days started molding together, forming a continuous flow of time right past her. Sometimes a meal was placed into her confinement, a plate of instant-noodles or a packet that she recognized as beef jerky. No fresh food, since that had been discarded from these facilities. To them it was useless after all, merely an aid in keeping their human livestock healthy. But even they only received nutrition from a tube into their bodies. Who needed a personal greenhouse full of beans and tomatoes if they could not satiate their body with it?
She was grateful for the regular servings somewhat, as they had been scarce these past few years but with each plate of food always came new suspicion. The first time she had awoken to an unexpected lunch, she had left it untouched for at least three hours, believing it to be poisoned before her body betrayed her and had her grasp the cold bowl with eager fingers. She spent the remainder of the day waiting for her body to shut down on itself or to convulse in pain. But no evidence of poison appeared.
The second day she spent less time resisting and gulped down the entire contents within moments. By the third meal, the only confusion remaining was about what motivation her father could possibly have to keep her alive. If it wasn't for blood harvesting, what could it be?
On the fourth day she didn't even question the presence of the heated beans that were brought in and placed next to the door. She had toyed with the idea of making a dash for it when the door opened, but the possibility of her being able to overpower the guard was almost zero and the likelihood of her even making it to the main entrance of wherever she was, even less. So she settled upon digging into the food she was given and juggling with different theories of what could be fueling these acts of, as she grudgingly admitted, kindness.
By the time what felt like another day passed, she was not only beginning to feel the lack of fresh oxygen and sunlight tugging on her, but she felt increasingly like a caged animal. Walking up and down the length of the room reminded her of the predatory big cats she had seen at a zoo almost a decade ago. They had also prowled the sides of their barred homes repetitively. Back then, her father had soothed her anger at those 'cruel zoo keepers' by explaining that animals of such danger need to be locked behind bars so they wouldn't attack people that simply want to marvel at them.
A dry smile stole itself onto her mouth as she thought of herself, here, in the same position. She? The dangerous one who ripped people's throats out? What a joke.
What really bothered her was the constant blue-white light. It hurt her eyes whenever she reverted to staring at a random spot on the grainy walls. She figured that her constant sleepiness interlocked with her to inability to tell whether it was day or night. She could hear when the guard outside was replaced once a day, which meant that it was shortly before the crack of dawn because the day shift started before sunrise in order for most vampires to lock themselves in the safe haven of their homes.
Her meals were also an indication of around mid-day but after that time seemed to pass either too slowly or very quick. She killed her time with sleeping and then walking off the excess energy and restlessness in the limited space she had.
In moments where sudden anger and desperation overcame her, when she thought about where the other humans from the convoy must be right now while she was vegetating away in this dingy cell, fed and safe from the outside world, she would pound her fists against the door. She would kick against the neon lights and beat the walls aimlessly until she collapsed with exhaustion and the adrenalin washed away, leaving her feeling helpless all over again. These moments seemed to gain in frequency the longer she was left in her solitude. She grew afraid of losing it altogether and maybe succumbing to the next person she'd see. Letting herself be fed on.
If they ever let her out that was.
By the sixth morning she told herself she was done feeling sorry for herself and contemplating what could and may happen, when clearly, nothing terrible was going to occur anytime soon. There had been no messages from her father, no threats from the guard who brought her food and certainly not a single doctor who had tied her up and shoved a needle into her bloodstream. She was somewhat convinced that she'd been forgotten for the time being. Her father would return to her at a later stage, when he thought she would have been driven to a point of agreeing with his notions.
It was time to forge a plan.
Perhaps not a foolproof one, since she had close to no idea what she was up against, but a reasonable one that would somehow, with an impossible amount of luck attached, get her out of this place. Her mind sketched plans, which she scribbled out and renewed over and over again. Every single time, they ended up focusing on the guard that visited her with her daily bunch of calories. She couldn't get out of this cellar of a room by drilling holes in the walls so she would need to use other opportunities. Inconveniently, there were no bathroom runs allowed for her, so she'd helped herself to a corner of the room in order to get things out of her system. Not that she cared about such trivial things anymore but that fact ruled out another opportunity of escape.
They weren't going to let her out of the room…so she needed to invent a plausible reason for them to take her to her father and somewhere along the way she needed to find a way to run for her life. Great plan. Wherever she was, and however many vampires roamed this place, this was more or less her only chance. She knew that she was more likely to die or be thrown back in here than to even catch a glimpse of the sky but she couldn't wait in here any longer. Her skin crawled uncomfortably at the thought of staying much longer. She knew she would go insane.
She hadn't spoken out loud since the last four days apart from unidentifiable words of rage when she had attempted to demolish the walls and talking to herself was already occurring more often than normal. Either they threw someone else in here with her, preferably human, or she'd truly lose it sooner or later.
That left the option of running away once again. She even ruled out rescuing any of the wonderful, brave people she had travelled with. It all came down to the fact that she didn't know anything about where she was being held captive. No information equaled having to make a blind dash for it, lowering chances of success anyway. Any extra humans to worry about would be her downfall.
The plan was slowly but steadily forming in her head as she paced the cold floor, chewing on the nails of her right hand with anticipation. What time was it? She paused in her walking as it occurred to her that she needed a rational story to tell the guard in order for them to actually allow her into her father's office. Should she just plead to see him like a scared-to-death, loving daughter or simply demand to be brought to him with the same icy air that he used? It seemed to intimidate people, hopefully humans and vampires alike. If they asked why, what could her story be? She'd changed her mind about his proposal? No. He'd immediately sense something wrong. But realistically…could it be that he'd planned for her to finally cave in under the pressure of confinement?
So engrossed in her survival plan, she barely heard the muffled exchange of words behind her prison's door but as the steel shifted, she realized it was time. The moment was here and she wasn't prepared. She turned on the spot and faced her greatest fear standing in the doorway. It was here that events already began to turn in the wrong direction. The soldier appearing in front of her was not the man who was generally responsible for her meals. An unfamiliar face.
He was younger. Also shorter and less packed with muscle than the man who usually dumped her food on the ground and with a face that did not look lined by war hardships before it had been frozen eternally. Most importantly though, his hands held no food. Meaning, that he entered with completely different motivations.
Her plans went down the drain in that instant and she felt her familiar friend, fear, rising in her chest. Her hand dropped from her lips as dread lashed through her like a stinging slap and she moved further away. Her eyes widened to take the danger in immediately, giving her the appearance of a deer caught in headlights, just before it gets run over. Ironically, her situation was quite similar. Deep inside, she knew this was her end, in form of this mockingly handsome man in the green uniform and sling around his arm, haloed by the white light streaming in from the corridor.
He stood in the doorway for a lengthened heartbeat, taking her in just as she was tracing every feature on him. He was statue-like in the way only vampires seemed to be, letting their prey drink in the sight before striking.
Her face hardened into an expression of both wariness and warning at once, taking another step back as he finally moved towards her. The door slid shut behind him. Any escape routes had evaporated before her eyes. All she could do was keep fighting now, at least inflict any possible pain on this vampire before she died.
"Get away from me," she hissed, eyes blazing as though to burn him alive if he took another step. He was, naturally, entirely unfazed by her.
To her immense fury, he even spoke to her as though she was child in need of explanation. His words were aimed to reassure her, take her terror away and expose her need for security. "You don't need to be scared of me"
His voice was silky, caressing the silence around her like the touch of a loved one. Was this the voice he used whenever he was about a tear a victim to shreds? She was not fooled but she found herself struggling to break the spell of his charm even though he'd merely spoken a single phrase.
Her body was tempted to relax into his words of comfort. She had been deprived of any reassurances for a while now but her mind refused to believe them. He continued advancing on her in her dazzled confusion and only his sudden proximity had her snapping out of her reverie.
She repeated her warning, louder and more forceful this time. Her eyes fixed on the unnatural golden eyes that bored into hers as though there was nothing else in the world that could intrigue him more.
"Stay away" she demanded, voice shaking just a fraction but all her mistrust and anger falling into her order. Words were the only weapon she had left.
He paused in his approach.
His head cocked to the side slightly, eyes glowing in the light cast upon them. His white features looked upon her with pity, fascination even, as he considered her attitude. The orders he'd been given echoed in his head as he stared at the human girl, not comprehending her refusal when, in her situation, it was plain stupid to deny immortality.
"Is this what you want?" he asked and was pleased to see her anger melt into realization as she recognized the question as the one her father had asked her countless times, "To live in fear?"
His body slunk forward again, closer to her and now he could smell the blood. The thick, pulsing liquid between the layers of her skin that called to him. It took a lot of willpower for him to focus on his words now as he moved closer. He knew he was giving it away, his hunger for it, because his eyes kept darting towards the artery in her throat.
"See, I can help you," he proposed softly, enjoying the way her frightful eyes snapped to attention immediately, "I can make you one of us. You can live forever."
He knew he was losing his grip, he felt it slipping as he closed the space between them and was merely centimeters away from the freshest source he'd been near in months. It was unbearable. The heat from her body fogged his mind and he completely shut off his rationality as the memories of pleasure that drinking from a living, breathing, struggling victim, resurfaced. If his ears picked up her furious denial, the sound of her "No!" resounding in the confined space, it did not reach his blood-crazed brain. His teeth were lengthening already and he was barely a breath away from sinking them into the sweet flesh.
Then a scream pierced through his head and there were warm hands pressed against his chest, shoving him back against an upright, hard surface. As her yell cleared the haze in his head momentarily and he understood the words she bellowed at him, his vision went red with adrenalin. There was no more distinguishing between male or female, young or old. Whoever it was, his victim was fighting and he enjoyed its feeble attempt to incapacitate him.
"Fuck you!" she told him and he wanted to throw his head back and laugh at her verbal abuse. It would not spare her from her fate. Her thudding fists against his upper body had no effect whatsoever. In fact, it served to spur him on further. It excited him and enraged him and just like that, all restraint fell away.
His head rose above hers as his fangs extended to their full potential and then he buried them so deep into her neck that he could feel them tearing straight through the blood vessel. Then there was nothing but bliss. Hot, searing, heavenly bliss. Her blood was everywhere and overwhelmed his senses. He pressed against her and she staggered backwards, writhing uselessly in his grip. Her own hands clawed at him, tried to fasten around the back of his head to force him away from her neck but as her energy ebbed away with her blood, she barely managed to hold onto his shoulders.
The sounds of his sucking on her life were everything that could be heard in the stillness. Gasps of strain mingled with heavy breathing. He felt her slackening in his grip around her waist with every passing heartbeat. As much as it tortured him to do so, he knew he'd have to pull away soon. Her fingers were sliding down his arms, barely able to contract around the fabric anymore to keep herself upright. Another strangled groan from the girl and he dropped her. Her petite body fell away from his mouth and she collapsed on her side on the concrete. Blood pooled around her but he didn't spare it a glance.
His absolute focus was on the fire that had erupted inside him. Pure, undiluted human blood was coursing in his starving system and he savored every second of the high. His lips were parted in his state of intoxication and his tongue darted out to swipe them clean of the precious fluid. His chin dripped with her unwillingly given blood and for once since a very long time, he could not care less that there was any wasted. He had stilled his thirst in excess.
When his composure eventually returned and his senses sharpened to their regular alert state, he opened his eyes. His gaze fell on the pathetic form of the girl in her own blood, beginning to spasm as his bite took effect. The virus was in her system and now there was no turning back for her. His mouth dripped red like the savage wound that lay bare to his eyes. He felt the tug of blood but this time he held back, knowing she needed to complete her change. He would be punished severely if she faced her demise at his hands.
Lying in her fetal position, on her side, she began to twitch as he stood by and watched her convulsions in a dispatched manner. The rush in his body was subsiding and as his heart calmed and fangs retreated to their usual size, he slowly crouched down beside his victim. She was heaving already, her hands clutching air in strange contractions as she rolled onto her back, eyes shut and teeth grinding in pain. His transformation had been painful, he dimly remembered, but it was a torture that he'd accepted as a small sacrifice in exchange for this life. A life he reckoned he was suited better for than his good-for-nothing human existence. He'd never regretted it.
But Bromley's daughter here, she had been resisting even when she knew there was only one other way out. How could she be so adamant on her death? Could she not see what a gift this change was?
He gingerly rolled her onto her back fully to prevent the grimy floor coming into contact with the torn area, noticing the subsiding warmth of her body as the heat was drawn out of it. He simply looked at her, taking in the skin that would soon bleach to white and the untamed russet hair. Everything about her appearance was unkempt, presumably from travel and struggle. Despite the unwashed clothing and dirt that smeared her skin, he could imagine the delicate beauty that her father wanted to gift with immortality.
In a few hours, her humanity would have subsided, and he would receive praise from the man who had given him the life he'd always dreamt of. Funny that Bromley had turned out to have a human child that he could not control with all his influence. As the soldier stood up, he brushed off the peculiar twinge that manifested in his stomach at the sight of her now. It somehow bothered him that she was in such torment, a pain she was mainly bringing on himself by fighting the change, but an immeasurable agony nonetheless.
Cursing at himself under his breath for this unexpected sensation of empathy for a human, which would be so much more fitting for his brother, he distanced himself from her. Trying to leave this irritating guilt on the floor, where it belonged. Her groans were subsiding as she slipped away into unconsciousness and as he thudded his fist against the door and gave Alison Bromley a last once-over, he witnessed her first tears escaping.