Bromley Mansion, First floor, Bedroom

Half an hour down the line and she'd given up on trying to pull her hand out of the cuffs. Even though they'd grown sweaty with the effort she was putting in, there was no escaping. They were simply too narrow for her hand to fit through.

She swore repeatedly, finally letting herself go slack. She still had no idea what on earth had made Frankie storm out of the house like that but she'd be damned if she didn't exploit this opportunity. If only there was some kind of object that would help her get out of these cuffs. But of course Frankie had made sure anything she could harm herself with was gone. Nothing but solid, heavy furniture in the room.

Alison pulled on the binds again but her hand stuck every time she tried squeezing it through. It wasn't slippery enough and unless she crushed the bones, just pulling it through by force wasn't an option. She needed less friction.

There was soap and water in the bathroom but even if she managed to shove her bed over in that direction, she wouldn't be able to reach from the doorway. She swore again for good measure, rattling the damn contraption against solid iron bars. She glanced over at the clock, registering that it had been almost forty minutes since his departure. She wasn't getting anywhere like this.

She could scream for help until someone came. But if they did it was unlikely they'd make it inside past her father's security system and if someone called the police, she would have to answer questions she didn't have the time to answer. Plus, her father would doubtlessly be contacted the moment she was identified. She had to do this by herself. There was no way she was waiting around for Frankie to return. There would never be such a chance again.

She thrashed again but that did little to impress the handcuffs. Breathing heavily, she stared at the metal, frantically looking for a plausible option. It hit her then, that there was an alternative. Not one she thought she'd have to resort to. The memory almost had her gagging now and her free hand involuntarily traced the marks on her neck.

Here went nothing.

She switched positions, stretching out her bound arm. Then she bit into the wrist.

The taste was abhorrent and she had to force herself to keep deepening the bite until blood streamed down her arm. How she'd managed to feed on herself days ago, she couldn't fathom anymore. It was worse than she remembered. She tilted it, spreading the fluid all across the limb with her free hand. The wound stung but she was past caring. She spat out what had gotten into her mouth and continued applying pressure to the binds.

Placing her bare feet against the wall, she used all possible leverage she could get, throwing her entire body against the handcuffs. Blood was covering her hands, dripping onto the sheets and most importantly, making the entire ordeal more slippery. Her flesh was squeezing through the opening slightly further than before.

Groaning, she squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed off the wall. Something was happening. If only by a millimetre, she could swear it was sliding through the cuff. Her arm felt as though it was being ripped from its socket and overstretching at the same time. This would be the first time she was thankful for having slim wrists compared to the average person. These handcuffs weren't the correct size. Just her luck.

The bite was radiating pain through her skin and for the first time, she hoped she wasn't poisoning herself too severely with this experiment. She gasped when her knuckles were forced against the metal. Skin tore off as she forced it through the solid ring and there was no hiding the agonized cry. She kept pulling despite the gruelling sensation. She was so close. Her arm was freely bleeding with the exertion but she couldn't afford to weaken.

There. Another millimetre. Almost yelling with frustration, she heaved backwards, ripping her upper body away from the binds. It was a moment of unbelievable pressure; her arm was on fire and then a snap of gravity. She flew backwards, tumbling straight over the edge of the bed to land on the floor headfirst.

For a moment she couldn't breathe. Whether from the impact, the rush in her head or the absolute miracle she had just pulled off, she had no idea. She was free. She'd done it. She was going to make it out of here. It took a while to regain her bearings but the rational survivor soon took over her body. The bleeding had to be stemmed or she wouldn't make it very far tonight.

Staggering to her feet, she clamped her hand around the injured arm, trailing drops across the corridor as she headed to Frankie's room. He had used bandages; there were hopefully still some around. She dug through his belongings one-handed but the only remotely useful thing she found was a spare shirt. It would have to do. She quickly tore off several strips, always an eye on the doorway. She ran her arm under water for a couple of seconds to get rid of the mass murderer appearance and wrapped up the injury.

She allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts. If she was going to make it far, she needed to be better prepared. Wearing shoes this time would be a smart move and perhaps taking some kind of hooded jacket so she wouldn't be recognized instantly. She hurried back into her room, threw open the closet and within seconds, threw something over her sweatshirt and jeans. Her boots were still bloodstained from the time in the cell but that was the least of her troubles at this point.

The house was still silent when she tiptoed downstairs. This didn't seem to be a trap. He had gone. She'd half believed the sound of the door had been a ploy to test whether she would try to escape again. Her vampire guard had truly vanished. The only barrier between her and the outside world was the alarm system, which only unlocked doors according to that code her father had entered. With a sinking stomach, she realized this might prove an even bigger challenge than wriggling out of handcuffs.

Alison paused trying desperately to think of a backdoor that would be accessible. There was none. Apart from the main entrance and the garage door, there was no way out. At least not in the traditional manner. She turned to look at the living room area. Despite vampire housing having close to no windows, this mansion had not been modified to that extent. The floor to ceiling window had been kept, presumably for the view of the manicured lawn behind the house. Her father and his weakness for luxurious appearances.

A determined grin worked its way onto her face. Unless that was bulletproof glass, she had found a way out. It would doubtlessly trigger the alarm and alert the entire neighbourhood but she would be long gone by then.

She took a deep breath, not feeling it in her lungs. Then she marched over to the television. It was practically the same size as her but thin and light enough to hold. Several well-aimed kicks later, the screen tumbled off the wall in a flurry of shards and torn wires. She didn't waste time checking if the commotion had brought anyone out to investigate. Pulling the object off the ground, she managed to position herself in front of the window, trailing wires behind her. She absently noted that the outside was growing lighter and that she should forge some kind of plan concerning the approaching dawn. But then the screen was flying at the window and the echoing sound of splintering glass filled her ears.

She was tempted to yell with relief, despite the shrill alarm ringing through the house once again. She had done it. After plotting a hundred different ways to get out of here for days, she'd done it under the most unlikely of circumstances. She was still a survivor, still with some kind of guardian angel that let her get lucky every so often. She didn't miss a beat as she sprang outside, landing in the dusting of glass, which crunched under her feet. The street lay before her again and she sprinted, never looking behind her.

Every now and again, a car passed by going in the opposite direction - people returning from work because the night was drawing to a close. That ruled out asking anybody for a ride out of town. She kept running, feeling the wind dimming out any sound as it rushed through her ears. This time she had enough peace of mind to consider the street signs around her, following those that led out of the suburbs. Every now and again the symbol of a large S was also present on the signs. She wondered if it was the subway as she had known it and more importantly, if that led to the heart of the city or away from it.

Now that she was out here, her father's house becoming distant behind her, she gave honest thought to where exactly she was headed. She didn't know. As much as she'd hated what Frankie had told her about being alone now, there was a ring of truth to it. Her first rational idea had been to find humans and seek shelter there. Now she realized, that was impossible. They would either kill her or run from her. What kind of ally did she represent, even as a sympathizer? These were times where distrust kept you alive.

It looked like she was going to have to battle it out on her own. At this point, she didn't think about blood. Distantly, she knew it was becoming more than scarce out here and that the possibility of starvation wasn't farfetched. But right now, with the taste of freedom on her tongue and the stinging reminder in her arm, that she had escaped her father's clutches, it didn't bother her.

The horizon was visibly lighting in the distance now; her eyes were beginning to register the difference. It was a faint warning tingle under her skin. The vampire in her feared the rising light. She was the only person walking on the pavement at this point, apart from the occasional stray car that breached the speed limit to get away from the open sky faster. She couldn't run anymore either and slowed to a fast walk. Vampire endurance really wasn't that impressive. A well-trained human athlete could surely have matched this distance. She took a look around the junction she'd reached, trying to decide on a direction. A couple of hundred metres to her left, the subway-like symbol was blinking at her, indicating an entrance to the underground.

There was a barely perceptible hue of gold pushing away the darkness. As much as she'd craved sunlight since her change, there was no denying that if she stayed out here, she would be ash faster than she could blink. Now that she had regained independence, she wasn't so adamant on death anymore. Escaping who she was now had grown less important than escaping her prison. She'd find a way to work around the bloodlust. Maybe try to raid a hospital blood bank. She'd worry about that when hunger started gnawing at her.

For now, she turned towards the sign and walked along the deserted road into the unknown. The stairs leading under the street didn't look any much more inviting than the mansion she'd just escaped from. Not that there was much of a choice. Alison wandered into the artificially lit underground, eyes and ears open for the sound of heavy army boots running her way. Despite her euphoria, she couldn't shake the thought that Frankie was just waiting behind her, ready to pounce and drag her back again.

She kept moving, hood pulled down far enough to avoid any passersby glimpsing her face. Not that there were many. At some point, a handful of teenagers appeared ahead, smoking and bickering amongst another but they turned a corner ahead of her and disappeared. In this skewed sense of time, she supposed they'd stayed out late. Slowly, she became aware of the fact that this wasn't a subway at all, but a network of underground tunnels that acted as walkways, maybe connecting the city hotspots. All these small flights of stairs probably led straight into buildings, so vampires wouldn't come into contact with sunlight at any cost.

She stopped, leaning against a wall. So she was most definitely walking into the city instead of away from it. The problem was, until night fell again, she couldn't get out of this maze without risking burning on the spot. There were just about two options here. Find a corner and huddle up for ten or so hours until the sun went down, or keep moving in the hopes that it would increase the odds of not being discovered.

Ironic, how becoming an immortal creature didn't leave her feeling any less hunted than before. The only difference was that she had the means to give back as good as she got. As good as she'd become at remaining entirely still for long periods of time, she was too edgy to remain in one spot. Her feet carried her further, turning right and left aimlessly. When more people turned up around her, she took a different direction again.

At some point, she did spot a sign that pointed her towards a subway station, but the risk of security being around there was too great. Finally, she reached a deserted side corridor and dropped onto the damp tiles. Her throat felt slightly dry, as though she was in need of a gulp of water. It must have been all the walking; it was making her thirsty despite having had a meal not so long ago. She couldn't afford to be thinking of blood now. Alison shook her head and rubbed over her eyes with one hand. Being on the run as a human seemed like a piece of cake compared to this.

A second later, she twisted around sharply. A sound had rasped through the emptiness, bouncing off the tiled walls. She got to her feet slowly, trying to locate the origin. She couldn't see anyone on either side of the hallway. The noise repeated itself, a strange mixture of a low screech and groan. That noise was definitely not human and she'd never heard a vampire make that noise, not even when they were staked. If her heart had been beating, it would have doubled its pace. Pressed against the flat surface, she slowly raised her head to the ceiling and had to bite back a scream.

Whatever it was, it was the most horrific thing she'd ever come across. A creature that looked like a sack of bones, held together by grey skin with unseeing eyes and a gaping mouth. It was contorted in the strangest way, holding onto the ceiling with arms that had developed into leathery wings and legs, twisted aside to grasp onto loose tiles. She was paralyzed as she stared up at it, taking in exactly what happened to those that were starved for blood. A Subsider, appearing a hundred times more threatening than she'd seen them on the news.

He must have smelt her blood through the bandage, she thought dimly. The thing bared its fangs, stretching out a wing-like limb and leaving a deep scratch in its wake. She worked on getting her legs under control. This was bad. She had no idea how to defend herself against something like that. It was a desperate beast and with no more rationality, it would probably kill her. She had to move and do it fast.

Apparently the creature had the same in mind because as soon as Alison even twitched a muscle, it let itself fall, slamming onto the ground in front of her and burying the tip of its wing in the wall beside her head. She let herself fall, dodging the thing's attack and breaking into a run as soon as it drew back. Its angry screech rang through her head, echoing back from all sides and she kept running. Suddenly, finding people to mingle with sounded like a fantastic idea.

The clumsy gait of the pursuer grew distant as she randomly swerved around a corner and sprinted towards a sign at the end of the corridor. Ignoring that it distinctly said: No entry, she headed towards it at full tilt, slamming against the entrance it indicated. The steel door didn't budge. She swore, circled, and found herself in a dead end. She cursed again, looking for anything to defend herself with.

The beast was still following; she could hear it approaching from the opposite end. She was about to throw herself against the door again, when it swung open from the inside, catching her in the shoulder and sending her tumbling onto the wall. A whole string of quiet curses fell from her lips and when she looked up, she saw three figures running past. None of them seemed to notice her lying behind the door and despite her aching back from the impact, she was glad for it.

That was until the Subsider turned the corner.

The three stopped dead in their tracks, two of them even backed up a fraction. She could have slipped through the open door then and disappeared from view, but something stopped her. Something she couldn't place until she zeroed in on the woman in the group. She was bleeding and even from the distance, Alison was convinced that she could see the trickle running down the wrist. And it was human blood.

She didn't know what was happening. It felt like she was in a state of wonder and unprecedented hunger at the same time. It had been over ten days since she'd last seen a human. How could one be here in the city? Everyone knew it was impossible to escape once you'd been caught for blood farming. Her feet seemed to carry her towards the woman despite the danger at the mouth of the corridor. There was a man beside her, both backing up from the creature. He was bleeding too, his whole arm soaked with it and it also smelt very much human.

Her throat ignited just tasting the smell on the air. She barely registered the leader of the trio shooting at the Subsider, making the thing scream in pain. She was so close, only a few steps…

That's when the man half-turned and caught sight of her. She recoiled immediately, catching his eye as he yelled at the woman and pointed something wooden at Alison. Instinctively, her fangs extended but at this point, she was so elated at finding humans that she threw her hands up in surrender at the same time. It seemed to disconcert the man just enough to not stab her instantly. In fact, there was something familiar about him. It only clicked when she studied his face and a hazy memory flooded her inner eye.

"E. Dalton," she said, staring at the human, who she could have sworn had been a vampire doctor only a week ago.

The woman was looking back and forth between the two, seemingly torn between backing away and taking the stake from her partner to finish Alison off. The dark-haired man was looking at her strangely, the memory apparently failing him as he tried to place her. Behind them, the starved vampire's body collapsed on its side and the assailant turned back to the remaining two.

"Ed! We have to move!"

She froze and it felt like ice running through her veins. That third voice was one she recognized only too well. Her eyes darted past the humans, who both twisted at the call too, and focused on the man in the uniform. Vampire eyes stared earnestly at the human with the stake before sliding over the woman's shoulder as he caught sight of her. She hissed in a breath. Frankie Dalton.