Prey

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Hungry and Alone

I woke up, stiff and cold.

Looking around I saw that sun had set and the room was dark, not a single lamp lit.

Slowly I unbent my knees and stretched out my legs, gasping as the muscles revolted at the movement.

Finally sitting straight, I waited for the needles to fade before I tried to stand.

The first thing I needed to do was use the bathroom, I'd actually be able to think straightly when my bladder didn't feel like it was about to burst.

After washing my hands, I went back into the bedroom and began turning on lights.

It looked like Aric hadn't been back yet, and my stomach was growling louder now.

May he was back, and I had just slept through it. Moving to the window I looked at the garage, and saw that the door was open and his car was still gone.

Feeling my stomach clench, I breathed through the hunger pang until it stopped. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten.

It must have been almost an entire day, maybe more.

Biting my lip, I pondered the consequence of disobeying Aric by leaving his room and looking for food, weighing it against the idea of starving.

Feeling the awful emptiness roiling in my gut, I decided it was worth it. I was so hungry.

Opening the door, I stole down the hall towards the stairs as quickly and quietly as possible.

Reaching the main floor, I saw a female slave freeze in shock at my appearance.

"Kitchen?" I asked, not knowing if I would get a reply.

Silently, she raised her hand and pointed towards a hallway to my right.

"Thank you," I breathed, offering her a friendly smile.

Finding the kitchen I was stunned by the sterility of the room. Every surface was pristine, not a crumb to be seen.

Stepping down, into the room, I crossed to the refrigerator and pulled it open.

Inside I saw row after row of blood bags organized by type, but no food I would eat.

Sighing in defeat, I closed it and opened the freezer. The only thing I found there was a single empty ice tray.

How was it that when Aric ordered food for me, it was always brought quickly when there was nothing available to make it with?

Looking around, I saw the woman who'd pointed me to the kitchen peeking around the corner at me.

"Can you help me?" I asked softly.

Slowly, she stepped into the room and moved quickly to a door I hadn't noticed.

Following her, I stepped into a much smaller kitchen that smelled amazing. There were loaves of fresh bread, baskets of fruits and vegetables, and another refrigerator and freezer.

I watched as the woman cut a thick slice of bread before handing it to me.

"Thank you," I breathed, accepting it gratefully before tearing into it viciously.

While I ate, the slave moved around the kitchen, mixing something together that she poured into a pan.

The smell that came from the stove was amazing, making my stomach roll even more despite the bread I had just eaten.

While the food cooked, the slave poured a glass of milk and handed it to me.

Grasping it in two hands, I drank quickly, hoping that it, added to the bread, would ease some of the pain in my stomach.

Finally the woman turned and placed a steaming plate of noodles covered in a red, spicy smelling sauce in front of me.

More grateful than words could express I began to eat while she started washing the dishes she'd used.

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