(Someone please review this thing. I crave constructive criticism on my style.)

Chapter 4:

When Laila awoke, she had no idea where she was. Her head pounded and it was dark all around her. Everything came flooding back to her and sat bolt upright, causing her head to spin. She couldn't see a thing, but she could feel that her bag had been taken from her and someone had changed her clothes. It felt like she was in some sort of sundress made out of heavy cotton that down to her knees. She was on some sort of bed with the heavy covers thrown over her. She threw the covers off of her and carefully swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling cold stone beneath her feet.

She slowly stood up, keeping her hands on the bed for support. Once she was sure she could stand on her own, she cautiously started feeling her way through the dark, centimetering her way forward with her hands outstretched until her fingers brushed up against some very thick, heavy velvet material. It felt like it was just hanging there, so Laila wrenched what she could only assume was a curtain aside.

The first thing she noticed was just how heavily it was now snowing outside. It was practically a white-out blizzard. The only light source she had came from the dim, flickering light which poured out from the windows below her. She turned and looked around her room as best as she could.

It was a large room with the only windows being the ones she stood in front of now. The bed was at least a full, fourposter canopy with intricate details carved into the woodwork. There was a nightstand with an old kerosene lamp on it next to the bed, but other than that, the room was sparsely decorated. Laila walked towards the bedside table and saw there was a book of matches next to the lamp. She struck a match, lit the lamp, and headed toward the door, which she found was unlocked.

Holding the lamp carefully, she made her way down the hallway towards what she hoped would be the staircase. She looked up at the walls in the dim light and old portraits stared back at her with a scrutinizing look. They almost looked like they were following her with their eyes, but she shook off the notion and kept going, eventually finding the stairs.

Laila stopped at the top of the stairs, just out of site. She needed to come up with a plan. These people had drugged her and taken her things from her, they were clearly dangerous. She remembered the fangs and her free hand rushed to her neck, feeling for marks that weren't there.

'Of course they're not there,' she thought, 'vampires aren't real. I'm just exaggerating the fang thing.'

Taking a deep breath, she made her way down the stairs. If someone made a grab at her, she could always throw the lamp at them and hoped they caught on fire. And after that, maybe she could find a phone while whoever was going up in smoke.

She looked around once she reached the bottom of the stairs, shivering slightly. It was chilly in the castle, and the fact that she was barefoot walking across the cool stone floor didn't help her feel warmer. She saw a light coming from one of the rooms to her right and cautiously crept forward. The door was slightly ajar, so she risked peeking in to see just who was in there. She saw the outline of what looked to be the count, his hands folded and pressed against his lips as he stared into the fire. Had his nails been that long when they met? He looked like something heavy was weighing on his mind. She watched him, unmoving, breathlessly. Despite the fact that he could very well be a psychotic, sadistic serial killer who had kidnapped her, she had to admit that he was incredibly good looking. The way the light played off of his high cheekbones and pale skin made him look like some strange but beautiful hybrid of a ghost and a china doll. He suddenly looked up and she withdrew from the door, pressing herself against the wall just outside the doorway. He hadn't looked in her direction, but she was not going to risk getting caught.

"Good, you've woken up," his voice came drifting out of the room casually, though he didn't come to the door. "I was about to come up and check on you myself if you hadn't risen soon." Laila stayed where she was, her heart beating a million miles a minute. How did he know she was out there? Had he seen her? He had to have. She swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and prayed that he thought he was wrong. "Stop being foolish. Come in and sit by the fire and warm up. I know you're cold."

Laila opened her eyes and slowly exhaled, puffing herself up slightly subconsciously in order to feel a bit more brave and stepped into the room. The count had his gaze fixed on her, a small, smug smirk playing across his lips. She swallowed and began walking toward the chair opposite of him, making sure to stay out of his reach and never taking her eyes from his..

'If he's going to kill me, he's going to have to look at me while doing it.'

"I apologize for having to drug you," he said nonchalantly as she sat down, placing her lamp on a nearby table. "But I hardly would have expected you to go along with our plan."

"And what plan was that?"

Von Krolock chuckled darkly, "Staging your death, of course."

Laila tensed, but did not break her gaze. She didn't like where this was going. "Why would you need to do that?"

The Count looked back to the fire. "Herbert thinks I'm a lonely old man, and he's right, to an extent."

"You don't look all that old to me."

His lips twisted into a bitter grin. "I suppose I should thank you for the compliment, but it's not exactly something I have great control over." He looked back up into Laila's dark blue eyes and she felt a chill. "The bit about the ad being put out as a practical joke was actually true. I decided to keep it out and reprint it in English, though, as a hopes of finding someone to... ease the loneliness."

Laila rose from her chair and stood behind it, ready to throw the still lit lantern at a moment's notice. Von Krolock waved a hand at her. "Sit down. I'm not going to hurt you or take advantage of you. I simply needed a companion. Herbert has Daniel, and now I have you."

"But why would you have to drug me and fake my death to get me to stay?" Laila demanded. "I would have paid the rent and stayed here of my own will, anyway! Why do all of this?"

The count grinned and her hand clasped at her throat. The fangs, they were real.

"Because no one would willingly live with a vampire."