Lucien

Bridget

Curled up in the corner of the basement, I stare out the dirty window at the blue sky ahead, wondering if I’ll ever have the chance to see the outside world again.

I’ve made a friend down here, thanks to a small hole in the concrete wall. A dog comes down here every day, searching for food. Because I don’t trust the people, I give the food to the dog.

I mean, the dog hasn’t died, so I guess the food is okay, but most of the time it looks like it’s not edible.

I pet the dog. The dog is a girl, and I’ve named her Rat, because she’s small enough to fit in that hole, and she eats practically anything I give her, just like a rat.

The wooden door of the basement swings open, and a man comes down the stairs. I know that everyone here is not human. Probably except for me, of course.

The man sets food down at the bottom of the stair, then looks at me, then the dog.

“Why the fuck is there a dog in here?” he asks, his eyes turning red.

“She um… comes through a hole somewhere,” I answer blandly.

“This isn’t your parents’ house,” he snaps. “You don’t get the luxury of having a dog.”

“I don’t think she likes me very well anyways,” I reply blandly. “Just comes here whenever she knows I’m eating.”

“Sounds like a damn rat,” he hisses.

“And what’s the problem with me having a dog anyways?” I ask. “You have several dogs.”

The man bares his fangs at me in anger before walking back up the steps and slamming the door shut. It’s true though—these vamps have werewolves working with them.

I think the werewolves were prisoners of the enemy pack, else they wouldn’t be here, because legend has it that werewolves and vampires do not like each other.

I mean, I’m basing my legend off Twilight, but to be honest, I don’t know if it’s exactly true.

Unlike, Twilight, however, I don’t have the luxury of having a hot ass male vampire into me, protecting me, saving me from whatever human ailments try to take my life away. It would be nice though.

I push the food over to Rat and she eats up the burger with no problem. I stroke her ragged fur mindlessly, still staring out the window.

The dog finishes up and leaves, leaving me with a cup of broccoli since that’s clearly not edible. I munch on the fresh broccoli until my captor comes down.

Now, I’ve never been much of a murderous person, but the thought of him floods my veins with white hot anger. And I think he knows it too, because he grins at me before heading over to a sink. He turns the water on, checks the temperature, then walks over and bends down.

“I have great news for you, sweetheart,” he says, his alcohol smelling breath hitting my nostrils. I wrinkle my nose and move backwards against the cold concrete wall.

“You have been sold,” he says, then clasps his hands together behind himself, pacing the floor. “And I have to admit, I don’t like who you’ve been sold to. I mean, he’s rich as fuck and we got some good money for you, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him, does it?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question, so I ignore it.

“I said, does it?” his voice gets darker.

“No,” I answer quietly.

“You seem to have enough balls to sass someone higher than me, but not myself?” he chuckles. “Scared I’ll jab you up again?”

I shudder.

“You know, Bridget,” he says. “You might as well stop sitting there thinking your billionaire adoptive parents are going to fish you out of here, because they’re not. You don’t have a pedestal anymore, girl. You are going to be a human slave to a vampire coven. I don’t think you know that’s the lowest of low ranks. Just a tad bit lower than myself. I wish to God you hadn’t been sold to him. I wish you hadn’t been sold at all.”

You and me both, buddy.

“But money is money, right?” he chuckles again. “Listen up, girly girl.”

I scowl at him.

“This isn’t just a regular vampire coven—no, it’s a mafia vampire coven,” then smirks at his words. “Which means you have to be in pristine shape to be presented.”

I look at him with a blank look. I’m by far pristine. I’m covered in dirt, I stink because I haven’t showered in a week, and my hair is probably so oily I could make a dozen eggs with it.

“Which is why the hot water has been turned on,” he says, then gives me a sharp look. “I know you’re a smart girl, but let’s not be stupid, huh?”

He leans down in front of me. “Got it?”

I nod mutely and he pats my cheek like I’m a little girl.

“Good girl,” he says, then clunks his way back upstairs. “Thirty minutes, Bridget.”

As soon as the door clicks shut, I stare at the water. I’ve been down here far long enough to know that the whole place smells of sulfur and other chemicals. I’m surprised that I haven’t died yet. I must have a strong liver and immune system for it to be able to keep me safe from everything that’s happened to me.

I slowly get to my feet and clean myself up, but not for the guy who’s buying me, no. For myself.

I finish cleaning myself up, then go around the corner of the basement where I’ve never been before. I’m afraid of spiders and you can’t really see shit on this side, and I’d die if a spider landed on me.

But I think at this point that a spider should be the last of my concerns.

I grab a few lithium batteries and pry their tops off with a crow bar. Inside is lithium, pure lithium.

I take some out and place it within the sink.

The next time someone turns this one, they’re going to get one hefty explosion to the face. I put the rest of the batteries away and crawl back to my usual corner. But first I go and cover the hole up that Rat usually comes through, because I’m humane enough not to kill an innocent dog within my escape process.

My captor comes back down with another man.

The man has silver eyes and dark black hair. They roam the basement until they land on me. He grins.

“Well, a beautiful female he has bought, wouldn’t you say, Preston?” he asks my captor.

“Yes, my lord, I would,” Preston says, looking like he just put a lemon in his mouth.

“Hmm,” the silver eyed man says, then comes close to me. “You know you’re coming with me, right?”

I nod slowly.

“Good,” he says, then chuckles. “My cousin has bought you.”

I roll my eyes and he laughs.

“Well, Spitfire,” he says, then looks up at Preston. “I think we’re ready to go.”

I wipe my hand across my face, leaving a dirt streak.

The man frowns and looks up at Preston, who gives me an angry look.

“I’ll get her some water,” Preston says, and I get up quickly. Maybe my wish for him to die is sooner than expected.

As soon as the water hits the lithium, it explodes, blowing up the whole pillar, sending concrete chunks everywhere. I duck into the corner just as a piece spears right through the man’s chest. He falls to the ground and his silver eyes roll into the back of his head. Preston lies on the ground as well, either unconscious or dead.

I step over the body as other chemicals burst into flames, filling the room quickly with smoke. The plan wasn’t to kill myself as well.

I grab a smaller chunk of concrete, holding my breath so as to not breathe in the burning chemicals, then throw the piece as hard as I can through the glass.

It breaks into little pieces, and I hoist myself up and through the window.

I land on the grass just as frenzy breaks out in the building, people screaming and desperately trying to find a way to put out the fire.

I run for my life.