The Dark Heroine: Dinner with a Vampire. Abigail Gibbs
grimaced. ‘Well, I might be, you know, on.’
He shook his head, throwing the towel aside. ‘On?’
‘What I mean is, it’s that time of the month when I might be starting, my, you know...’ I made odd gestures with my hands, as though that would explain it. He raised one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side, trying to understand. He shook his head slightly, still not getting it. I grimaced. ‘Period,’ I muttered through gritted teeth. His eyes widened in alarm and became pink, like he was flushing. ‘So, what am I going to do about it?’ I asked, snapping him back from his mortified state.
‘Erm, yeah. Have you, you know, started yet?’
I shook my head. ‘No. But I might today,’ I explained in a hurry.
He nodded. ‘Well, I think Lyla might have some stuff for that.’ His tone made it sound as though it was some disease and he rushed from the room like it was the plague. He came back five minutes later, his arms full of sanitary towels and tampons. ‘Never say a word of this to anyone. I’ve already had a weird look from the butler and Kaspar would never let me live it down.’
‘Trust me, I won’t,’ I promised, piling the tampons into my arms. ‘I’m surprised you know what a period is, actually.’
‘Vampires get them too. Well, obviously only the girls,’ he added, his eyes becoming pink again. ‘But only every few years. They have a longer cycle than humans, which means they are more fertile and can we stop talking about this? It’s grossing me out. And you better go and do whatever you need to do.’ Again he motioned with his hands, implying his meaning. I took the hint and left, hoping I wouldn’t smell like a walking lunch.
FOURTEEN
Violet
So much time passed here unnoticed, as if the sands of time seemed to take pleasure in dropping when my back was turned. Before I knew it, the sun had set over the Varns’estate, Varnley, and the moon would be rising, if it were not covered by menacing storm clouds that rolled in over the forest-covered hills. It had started raining earlier, just as it had on my first night here. I gave the weather merit – the rain persisted right through the afternoon and well into the evening and still fell as night drew in.
Just as I changed for bed, the first flashes of lightning illuminated my dark room. Great shadows were cast on the walls, and I watched, almost in awe, as forks were sent rocketing to the ground. Seconds later, great clasps of thunder echoed over the valley. The voiles covering the French doors swayed a little, as the fierce winds found there way through minute cracks in the frame. I slipped into bed, forcing the childhood fear of a storm aside and pulled the sheets tightly around myself, banishing the cold. I screwed my eyes shut and waited until I fell into an uneasy sleep.
A cloaked figure swept his way through the forest, deep into the parts where rogues ruled. Rogues like himself.
He didn’t make a sound as he walked, his movement fluid, graceful as a lark, but stealthy as an eagle and as fast as a falcon. He had been compared to them all and he enjoyed that.
The figure knew the path well, so he need not look down. Instead, he focused on the ever-nearing building: his destination. It was an ornate building, but quite insignificant considering what it concealed. It was not large and was built entirely of grey stone – granite, perhaps. The figure did not know, and he did not care.
A breeze blew through from the open door, and eager to be done with his business, the cloaked figure descended the steps inside, taking three at a time, impatient. When he reached the bottom, had he been human, he would have felt the considerable drop in temperature and the chill in the still air.
He bowed his head, not out of respect, but to prevent bumping his head on the low roof, and walked quickly down the long corridor, passing the resting place of charred corpses of long-dead vampires. His footsteps were the only sound in the darkness and even he admitted he had to strain to hear them. He smiled to himself. Not even the rats dared venture down here. His ego swelled, knowing only he had the courage to explore the dark depths of the catacombs.
He came to a room and allowed his eyes to sweep across it until they came to rest on a young girl, tied to the legs of the stone throne that guarded the tombs. Her head drooped and there was no colour in her cheeks. Huge gashes on her neck oozed blood and her clothes were ripped, leaving her almost naked – he could see that her young, once-smooth breasts were covered in small scratches and her stomach looked red and swollen, like she had been punched several times. The frayed rope tied around her wrists had gauged out chunks of skin, and a bone penetrated the skin where her ankle should be.
He looked on, disgusted. The rogues could have at least brought him something a little more appetising. He would think her dead if he could not see the pitiful rising and falling of her chest.
He stepped forward. His footsteps echoed in the silence and, startled, the girl raised her head, her eyes searching the gloom and struggling to focus.
‘W-who are you?’ she croaked.
‘Who I am is of no concern to you, but what I am is,’ he taunted, parting his lips to reveal his two sharpened canines.
Her eyes widened in fear, and she attempted to scrabble back, but the ropes binding her prevented her from doing so. ‘Please—’
He cut her off. ‘What is your name?’
‘S-Sarah.’
He smiled once again, revealing his gleaming fangs. ‘Well, Sarah. I have a proposition for you.’ He stooped down to her level. ‘You and I can have a little bit of fun and you can become like me – once I am done with you of course. Or you can become my dinner and … die. Your call.’
Her eyes widened, and tears trickled down her cheek. ‘Just kill me. Please,’ she sobbed – at least, he thought it was sobbing. It sounded more like the whine of a dog.
The smile dropped from his face. This was not what he wanted. Lust and thirst were pumping through his system, driven by his dead heart, and he wanted to have his way. He wiped her tears away with his thumb, grimacing as grime coated his fingers. He stroked her cheek, rubbing his thumb in small circles, fighting to keep his calm demeanour.
‘Are you sure, Sarah? We could have so much fun,’ he prompted breathily.
‘It hurts too much! Just end it,’ she sobbed, her head drooping once more. He knew unconsciousness would soon envelop her, sheltering her from the pain. He would not let her get away that easily. He took hold of her neck with both hands, wrenching her free of the ropes.
‘You’re lucky that I am a merciful vampire.’
With that, he broke her frail neck, almost snapping her in two. The crack echoed in the stillness as he felt her go limp. So thirsty now, he yanked her neck towards his waiting fangs and began to drink.
Her blood was bitter and nowhere near satisfying, but it would do for now. He picked up the mangled body in his arms and walked outside, tossing the corpse into the dark forest.
A tiny trickle of blood escaped his lips and slid down his chin. He wiped it away, smiling to himself, already wishing for more.
I sat bolt upright in bed and screamed, the horrendous sound echoing off the walls. Cold beads of sweat ran down my forehead and I was shivering, gagging for breath between shrieks.
‘Violet!’ The door burst open to reveal Fabian, wearing a panicked expression. ‘Violet, are you okay?’ He rushed over to me, untangling me from the mass of sheets that had wrapped around me whilst I slept. Dry sobs tickled my throat and I took several short and shallow breaths, desperate for air, trying to nod my head but failing.
‘What’s wrong? What happened?’ he quizzed, placing an arm around my shoulders.
‘I was asleep …’ I began, confused, my eyes darting about the room, searching for nonexistent