A vampire's Choice

Roger was back at the place he always dreamed of. Not the ones of nightmares, but the sweet dreams of his past. He was back in the room he used to call home, in a time before technology was king. Torches lined the wall, basking the room in a warm glow that illuminated the details he had forgotten for so long. The rough bricks made up the room, their dark brown colors bringing him a peace he could not explain. Countless days he would spend admiring them, counting along as he memorized the details. Usually, when he dreamed of this place, the piece was not this vivid, but now he could see the bumps in them, and it made his fingers itch to brush the coarse surface once again. Was this a dream or not, Roger could not decide, but he was still grateful. Leaving the walls from his vision, he kept exploring the rest. A dresser sat against the wall to his left, the ember wood the same shade as the bricks, blending. He spotted a few of his trinkets on top, one of them a well-known picture dear to his heart. As much as he wanted to get up and grab it, he was more curious about the rest of the room. Right in front of him was an unlit fireplace, the swirling design around it also known to memory. He had paid a hefty fee to get it commission, a choice he was glad he had made. Next, his gaze landed on the opposite wall to his right. a trunk stood there, taking up most of that space. It was the same color and wood as the dresser, the man who had made the fireplace also designed the chest. The wood was polished and sparkling from the light cast by the flames. Roger's eyes were strong, allowing him to retrace the details. The edges were cast with silver to protect the sharp sides. More swirling scattered about, a perfect match to the fireplace, only the lock was different. It was a darker metal, more substantial than the design, helping to protect it from thieves and other wandering hands. Inside he kept his weapons and possession, the ones he had gathered throughout his life, all holding a deep meaning and connection. The rest of the room was bare, say for the bed he was on. Using his sense of touch while keeping his eyes on the trunk, Roger swept his open palm over the soft material under the cover. To no shock, it was satin, only the best for her. It was a deep burgundy color, her favorite, and smooth. As his hands and body experienced the sensation, Roger closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. His nose filled with the welcoming scent of flowers. Her scent. The satin scrunched up in his palm as he balled his hand, grabbing on hard. With all the good came the bad. Gone are the memories of her, replaced by the deception. She had betrayed him, making him the bad guy and ultimately the curse. She was dead now, caused by her own actions and his, but he was still in love with her.

A door creaked close to him, and opening his eyes, the figure of the one who torments him stood there. An unknown light shone behind, casting her features in darkness while illuminating her figure. One he has never forgotten.

"You made it.” Her soft voice sends butterflies in his stomach. Roger fought and won the urge to groan from hearing her speak. It has been so long.

"How are you here?" Sitting up to look closely, the sheets slipped down his body, making him aware of his lack of clothes.

"You brought me here, silly."

Slowly she sauntered into the room, her hips swaying seductively with rhythm. All reason fled Roger's mind as he focused on her. When she was a few feet from the bed, her feature became visible, and Roger choked on his breath. She was here, in the flesh, and looking as beautiful as she did before.

Without saying another word, Rebecca climbed onto the bed and sat on him. Her legs spread on either side of his, her hands resting on his shoulders. Her touch was warm and soothing, sending sparks up and down his skin.

"But how?" it became more challenging to think as she leaned closer. The scent became more vigorous and intoxicating, making Roger only focus on her.

Rebecca leaned in and nestled her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling deep. The action was arousing, making him go hard. She obviously felt it too since she slit forward, rubbing him with her womanhood.

Roger let out a deep growl, wrapping his arms around her body to pull her in. But only the air was there. He was confused, and as he frantically searched the room, he spotted her to his left, standing next to his trunk. "Not yet," she announced.

Shooting up from the bed and ignoring his nakedness, Roger swiftly jumped over the bed to land next to her. Rebecca stayed motionless, keeping her eyes glued to his. If Roger were not so aroused, he would have noticed the vacant look she gave, but he was obsessed.

"Why?" Roger purred at her ear as he positioned himself behind her, wrapping his arms around her once more. She did not vanish like before, allowing him. Pushing his nose in her hair, he inhaled her scent. The flowers were more potent, intoxicating, but something was off. He could not put his finger on it, but he also did not care.

Rebecca turned around in his arms as if on queue, allowing his hands to rest on her voluptuous behind. Their eyes met once more, the chemistry between them pulling him in. Her lips were plump and pink, slightly open. It was inviting him in, and he took up the offer, bending his head to get closer. Her breath brushed his lips, and he quickly licked them, softening them. Before they touched, she once again disappeared, leaving him holding nothing. Blinking a few times in surprise, Roger looked up, seeing her standing next to the trunk instead of in front of it.

"Why do you keep running?” he questioned.

The trunk fixed Rebecca's gaze as her body pointed towards him. His own eyes traveled down to look at it, but it was just as he remembered it.

"Not yet," she replied.

"But why?" Roger kept pushing.

Turning her body, Rebecca faced the trunk completely. Her hand slowly lifted, pointing at the object. "You have to do this first."

Roger was confused, but he shifted forward, meeting her by the trunk. Staring down, he replied, "And what is it I have to do?"

"That.” She pointed with a finger now, her eyes on the same spot.

Getting more confused by the second, Roger caved. Bending down, he moved to unlock the trunk, only to realize it was not locked. The cold metal met his fingers, and he felt all the sensation. Another reason this cannot be a dream: it felt too real.

"Open it,” she urged.

Roger obeyed and slowly lifted the lid. He already knows what is inside so he didn't look. Letting the lid rest against the wall, he looked up at her, but she was gone. Movement felt against his right side, and as he looked he saw Rebecca was on her knees, hands grasping the side of the trunk.

"That is what you have to do."

Finally, looking down at the content of the trunk, bile rose in his throat. The shock made him fall backward, landing on his ass. His heartbeat doubled, and he looked towards Rebecca for answers. Her gaze was already on him but accompanied by a smile. One that scared him. She looked sinister and evil, with the old Rebecca gone.

"Once you do that, I shall return. Once you do that, we would be together again."

"But...” The shock was too much and he failed to utter what he wanted. Refusing to look at the trunk, he kept his gaze on her, but as fast as she appeared, she was gone. Leaving him to look at nothing. With a quick sweep of the room, he came back empty. She was gone, leaving him with only the trunk and the horrors inside. Calming his nerves and building up the courage, Roger slowly rose to his feet, taking care of averting his gaze. Taking a deep breath and counting to three, he looked down.

Lisa was stuffed inside, her soulless eyes staring back at him. Even though they looked exactly the same, he could still tell the difference. His gut was telling him this was the woman he only met days ago, the woman who has sparked something inside of him long gone. Bending down, his hand slowly inched closer but stopped for a second as he contacted her ice-cold skin. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream, her eyes dead. Blond hair wrapped around her chin and neck, and he moved to push it aside. Roger's hand pulled back fast after he cleared it away, allowing him to see underneath. A black hole was sitting where her neck should be, dried blood on the edges. Deep down, he knows he caused it. The taste of iron filled his mouth, and when he moved to wipe it away, his hand froze him. Blood covered every inch, so thick that he could not even see his own flesh. He frantically turned it around, but it was everywhere.

"Kill her and I will return,” a voice whispered in his ear