I’m pulled through the most amazing, intricately detailed hall I’ve ever seen. In the car ride I was blindfolded, and now I was allowed to see inside the palace where the King of all vampires resided. The halls were six feet wide and the walls were a deep black with swirls of dark blood red through them. The floor was a creamy coloured marble, contrasting with the walls. The hall I was in now stretched on for at least one hundred feet with doors on the side every ten feet or so.
Mister hot-steamy and wicked was unusually silent beside me. I expected more snide comments from my captor but all he did was stare ahead, with his hand firmly on my arm as he took me to the wherever it was I was being taken. I hold onto my white towel. The fluffiness of it gave me comfort but it still wasn’t enough.
“Excuse me,” I say, “Could I please have something to cover myself with besides this towel?” I see my captor turn to look at me with a wicked smile.
“Now, you have just got my imagination running wild –”
“Please,” I snap, annoyed at how cool calm and collected he is. Although I guess I couldn’t blame him, he wasn’t the one being abducted, “I need something better than a towel. At least give me that,” I see his deep blue eyes soften a tad.
“I’ll see what I can do, but only if you behave,” he says.
“I haven’t done anything bad!” I can’t help but snap again, angry at his arrogance and power. No matter what, I couldn’t escape. I only had my words to save me, “You’re an ass, if you can’t even give me some god-damn clothes…” I shake my head at his mocking glare, “Forget it.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll see what I can do,” he stops by a door and opens it. Suddenly I’m not feeling too brave anymore. I peek inside and before I can get a good look around he shoves me none too politely into the room and lets me go.
I hold the towel to me, looking around anxiously at my surroundings. I was in a small room with a desk at one end and shelves lining each wall. It looked like someone’s office but there was no one waiting in here. No King.
My vampire captor stands just outside the door way, ready to shut the door but I raise a hand.
“Wait,” I say, “Who are you?” He gives me a smirk showing one side of his fangs. His look turns hungry and I narrow my eyes.
“My name is Darrius, sweetheart. I’ll see if I can get you something in terms of clothes. But you’ll owe me a favour for it,” I let out an annoyed breath at his wicked gleam in his eyes.
“You could have just let me change into some clothes before you abducted me!” He swings the door shut on my face, and I hear him walk away laughing to himself, “Damn you!” I yell at the door. I look around me, at the room full of books and a desk.
What the hell was I doing here?
What did vampires want with me?
And why did my captor have to be such an arrogant prick?
I hug the fluffy white towel to me, still shaking from fear and adrenaline. I didn’t understand why vampires would want an 18 year old girl who did nothing but go to school and watch dramas on T.V. in her spare time, to meet the King. Was I going to meet him?
So many questions and no bloody answers! I walk around the room, sighing at how helpless I was. I had no answers as to why this was happening. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake; a misunderstanding.
Yes, that had to be it!
After a few minutes the door swings open and I twirl to see Darrius holding a simple black dress. He throws it at me and I catch it. It was a nice dress, nothing outrageous. Good.
“Thank you,” I say, “Where did you get it?”
“Never you mind,” Darrius gives me a long stare that suggests he is thinking about eating me up. More like drinking me up.
“I need some privacy,” I say, “To change.”
“Mmm… okay then. You won’t be waiting long. The King will come see you soon. Don’t try to escape, sweetie, I can hear your heart beating from a mile away. And I’ll be right outside this door,” he closes the door, and I glare at him as he does it. Bloody vampires!
Quickly, in case he decides to come back in, I slip the towel off and slip the black plain dress on.
“Done, sweetheart?” I hear him ask from outside the door. I don’t answer, annoyed.
“You better be done, sweetheart,” I wish he would stop calling me that, “The King is coming, I’m opening the door,” I take a deep breath and let it out.
Time to find out if this whole thing really was a misunderstanding…