Blood of the Past

Placing my feet on the cold floor, I stood from my bed. I'd have turned on the lights if I needed them, but it was too early to tell. Something wasn't right.

I searched my for my bodyguards, but I stepped in something wet and warm. Fearing the worst, I turned on the light and choked at the sight. "Dave," I whispered as I fell to my knees. It was too late now. He was already gone.

My senses came crawling back to me as I scooted towards the wall and shut the light off. The blood was warm, meaning they were still in the house.

I made sure to take slow and steady breaths as I searched for the knives on my counter. As soon as my fingers wrapped around a handle, something was pressed against the back of my head. "I wouldn't try that if I were you," he said, leaning close to my ear.

Nausea swirled in my stomach as I tried to keep last night's food down. Why me? Why did it have to be me?

He kept the barrel of the gun pointed at my head and from the side of my vision, another guy came and grabbed my hands, pulling them behind my back. He used zip ties to bind my wrists together and before I could look back at them, they threw a burlap sack over my head.

They forced my sticky feet across my floor and out the front door. The walk back to the vampire's territory was long, and my feet were aching by the time we arrived. The ground switched from dirt and sticks to carpet, then cement. I was dropped onto my knees, crying out from the pain.

The bag was ripped from my head and I turned around in a hurry, but they had already left me in the room without any light.

Something growled to my right and I swallowed, scooting back. What else was in here with me?

Chains rattled as footsteps began to echo. The creature was making its way to me, and I'd hit a wall. White eyes came into my view, and my breath caught in my throat as I stretched my legs, burrowing into the wall as much as I could. It leaned back and clawed at my chest. I yelled out and rolled to the side. I tried to army crawl but with my hands behind my back, I didn't get far.

Bony, sharp claws wrapped around my ankle and yanked me back, ripping into my flesh. I screamed once again and continued to scream. The creature grabbed my neck, squeezing out all of the oxygen. I kicked and struggled, but without my hands, I had no power. I had no strength.

~

I groaned, burning up from all the nightmares. The sheets beneath me made me feel safe and protected. If only Noah were here...

I stretched my legs, wincing from a stinging sensation in my ankle. My eyes shot open, and I didn't recognize the room. I wasn't safe and at home. I sat up, crying out from the pain in my shoulders. Chains kept my wrists restrained to the bed.

It wasn't a nightmare. I wasn't protected.

Someone entered the room and I had to hold back from begging for him to let me go. I wasn't going to give in. That was what he wanted from me. "Who are you?" I asked.

He never looked at me. Was he afraid to face his own violence? Instead, he poured a glass of water and held it to my lips. "No thank you? I could have left you to die in that room, Brianne. I could have let him eat you."

He knew my name. What did he want with me? "Why didn't you?"

The vampire gave me his full attention, locking eyes with me. "Because we need you. We need you to help us kill all the werewolves."

He couldn't be serious. What would I be able to do? I was just a widow. I was just a pregnant widow. I was nothing more than the woman who lost her husband. "How?"

With a chuckle, he grabbed a silver blade. "There's one thing about werewolves that vampires don't have." He leaned closer. "Family." He fixed his posture and walked around to the foot of the bed. He reached over and grabbed my ankles, yanking me down onto my back. I yelled from the pain in my ankle, and the wolf inside me stirred with anger. We wanted nothing more than to tear him to shreds.

He stopped on the other side of me, pointing the tip of the knife at the base of my chin. His eyes lingered a little farther down than I liked.

He flipped the knife in his hand and shrugged. "Werewolves tend to be close, no? They're going to come looking for you. They're going to find you, but it won't be alive." He jumped on the bed, one leg on either side of me. "And one thing I enjoy the most is pissing off the werewolves." He started to remove his belt as I began kicking with all of my might. This angered him more and he plunged his knife right into my leg. I stopped fighting and my eyes rolled back.

The monster on top of me removed my shorts, but as soon as unbuttoned his jeans, someone knocked on the door. He groaned and got up, fixing himself. He answered the door. "What the hell do you want?"

"The camazotz escaped," a stranger said. Camazotz? I'd only ever heard of the legends but I never thought they were true.

He glanced at me and muttered something before slamming the door behind him. I sat up and looked at the chains. I scooted across the bed and as close to the chains as possible. I took a deep breath and used the chain on my right wrist to smash my thumb on my left hand. The cries continued until I had broken it, slipping it through the chain. I grabbed the pillow case and tore a strip, tying it around my thigh. I slipped off the bed and reached for the knife he'd dropped when he jumped off the bed.

My arm wasn't long enough, so I stretched out my leg and used my toes as fingers. When it was in my hand, I made sure to be careful, when picking the lock to the other chain. When it broke apart, I limped to the door and opened it, looking both ways before sneaking out. I hurried down the hall, unsure of where I was going.

Did anyone know I was missing? Was he right about them wanting to find me?

I bit my tongue when I stepped on my bad leg a little too hard. I grabbed onto the railing that separated me from the stairs. I sat down at the top and scooted my way down, but when I reached the bottom, someone was waiting for me.

My eyes met that of a monster—a demon waiting to feed.

"Where are you going?" he bent down to my level and shoved his thumb into the wound on my thigh.

I gripped the bar of the railing beside me and dropped my head, hiding the pain in my face. I couldn't let him have the satisfaction.

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "Careful there, darling. Wouldn't want you to bleed out." Something more sinister displayed on his face, and I don't think the worst thing he has in mind was just about control. He wanted me to beg for mercy.