Memoirs of the Night - Chpt 6

Am I dead? I opened my eyes cautiously to find Rosaline staring deep into them, concerned. What had happened? Was I a dream? I was filled with questions, but I could not speak. I felt faint, when was the last time I ate? All my memories were a blur, were they even memories? I opened my mouth to ask, but no sound could escape. My throat was dry, I needed to feed.

She understood. Putting a finger on her lips to signify that silence was necessary, she pulled me to a heap lying on the floor. The immorality of it did not occur to me; my primitive urge to feed was overwhelming. I drank deeply, the metallic taste of the liquid flowing through my body. It nourished me; gave me the strength to continue. After feeding, I glanced up at Rosaline, wondering what she must think of me. I was drinking a stranger’s blood, not giving a second thought to his family, his friends; the people he was leaving behind. But she was smiling, even with the blood dripping down my face and my hair a mess. She really did amaze me.

We need to escape. We were obviously being watched here, we were not safe. Pushing aside a rock, Rosaline revealed the exit. Where we would turn out, I don’t think either of us knew. But we carried on, in spite of the consequences that lay ahead.

A town. After miles of crawling through tunnels and mud, it led to... a town. I was unimpressed to say the least. But Rosaline seemed pleased. Desperate to know why she seemed so impressed at our destination, I followed her through winding streets and narrow alleys, into a grimy-looking bar that no-one seemed to even notice. Simply nodding at the bartender, she pulled me through a tiny door into a room. The dim light that somehow managed to force its way through the filthy windows illuminated a dingy bedroom.

We changed into the clothes we found in the wardrobe; someone had obviously stocked it accordingly. Choosing a purple dress, I attempted to clean myself with the small bowl of water. I could feel Rosaline’s eyes on me as I dressed. Why was she staring? I wanted to cover myself; my self-conscious nature was taking over. Finally clothed, I turned around to see Rosaline in a short red skirt, tights and boots. The low-cut top she wore seemed to draw in my attention, dragging my eyes to her revealed cleavage. Seeming pleased with my reaction, Rosaline dragged me to the rather unhygienic-looking bed. The gentle kisses suddenly seemed passionate and desperate. She needed me, and it hit me that I needed it as much as her. Pulling her to the bed, I closed my eyes and sank into bliss.