Trigger warning. Slight gore. Like, really slight.
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Motionless, she laid on the floor.
The curtain flapping from the wind that was blowing inside, the moonlight glittering down her slit open throat that had blood still sipping out of it, flowing down her neck and dissolving further into her white gown, an inky red stain down her waist line of her dress.
Some blood had dripped to the floor too, causing the red sticky liquid to stand out sharply against the grey tikes beneath.
Everything was quiet, like a honourable minute of silence for the dead.
Seconds passed and nothing changed.
Not the frozen smile on her face, nor the look of utmost satisfaction in those lifeless, opened dazed eyes.
A perfect departure.
Then…
A twitch of a pinky.
Abrupt halt.
Slowly, under the light of the moon, dark blood rushed to the surface of the opened throat, then the flesh at either sides of the slit pulled together, like a careful needlework, only that there was no needle, nor thread.
Only blood.
Sealed up.
The throat that had been ripped apart was now whole again. Nothing to show for the state in had been in a while ago, except the blood.
Motionless, she still laid.
A second.
Two seconds.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Sev—
“Ahhhhhhh.”
A sharp, shaky, heavy inhale.
Her body shot up, her hand over her neck that should be spilt open.
Her eyes filled with confusion as she looked around and took in her surroundings.
It was dark but she could see.
Perfectly.
This was the room she had been given in the Vampire’s Castle.
She staggered up.
Her heart.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
It was beating.
As shaky as her unstable legs, she struggle to get to her dressing table.
She needed to see, to believe.
She flicked the lights on, staring back at her reflection, as one thought flashed through her mind.
Dead.
Her hands ran up her neck again, the red metallic smelling liquid staining her fingers red.
She should be dead.
Why wasn’t she dead?!
That dagger was silver. It had burnt her flesh.
SHE SHOULD BE DEAD!
The plastic bottles she swept her hands against in anger, hit the floor with loud clanks.
Her knees buckled under her but she gripped the table firmly before she landed on the ground.
Her breathing was heavy and loud, as her mind raced over the different possible reasons why she wasn’t dead.
His blood.
That vampire, whatever he was, his blood flowed in her veins.
It had to be the one stopping her from dying.
Her rage boiled over.
She took a bottle of oil and threw it at the door, that flung open just at that moment.
Gwen was quick to duck.
“Mi–” she stiffled a gasp, her face horrified, before her hand shut the door mindlessly behind her, her body freezing with shock.
Zezi smirked.
A creature that lust after blood, had just walk in on her, covered in blood.
Perfect.
If she couldn’t die by the blade, maybe she could die by the drain.
All these red liquid nutrient should be getting Gwen hungry already.
How much Zezi wished it had been someone else, like Laura.
The consequences of this would be dire and Gwen had been nice to her. At least.
“Are you hungry, Gwen?” She said, walking closer to her, raising her bloodied fingers to her. If she had any super control, it should be breaking. This room smelt entirely of her blood. “You should be. You can drink from me.”
Gwen’s eyes darted up to her Mistress.
What was she doing?!
“Milady—”
“Don’t fight it. Just go for it.”
The long moments that passed between them were tension filled. Zezi drew her claw right through her left palm, so that Gwen could catch the way it dripped out of her hand, down to the blood.
Be enraged with waste, while the knowledge that there was more where that came from, would dominant her mind and block off her logical thinking.
Fresh blood always smelt sweet.
Gwen could still remembered how she had almost fed from her Mistress while she was conscious.
Her blood had been so enticing.
The King’s blood hadn’t really mixed with her Mistress’s own then, but now, the presence was unmistakable.
“I don’t want your blood.”
“W-what?”
“You smell of the King.” She said, with a painful grit. “A power we are subdued to.”
Zezi’s smile fell.
Why was her life so miserable?
“Perfect.” She chuckled.
Gwen looked around, taking in the horrifying state of the room. As much as she was a vampire, the sight of blood like this, wasn’t something she liked, especially not when it concerned someone she cared about.
Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the dagger laying in a puddle of blood.
“Milady!” She shouted, hurrying over to it. “Did you try to–”
“Yes,” she shrugged. “It didn’t work.”
She picked up the dagger, dropping it on the table, then returned to clean the mess.
“Why?”
“Because I hate it here. I’m forced to part with my family and stand by the side of a creature that represents everything I despise. His father killed my family. Vampires. Draining my pack, one by one.”
She had been right, her Mistress didn’t get the right closure. Whatever Gwen wanted to say about the present vampires being different, didn’t feel appropriate. So, instead, she opted for comforting words.
“I’m really sorry that happened to you.”
“Oh, well.” Another dismissive shrug, and a distant smile. With dread she pushed the next words out of her mouth. “So, the silver didn’t kill me. Am I a vampire now?”
Gwen mopped the floor once again, a shadow of a smile on her lips.
“That is not how it works. You are still what you are, only that His Majesty’s blood flows in you.”
Zezi nodded.
“So when will it leave? Tell me.”
“The blood protects and not everyone can take the King’s blood except his mate.”
That word made her very angry.
“When will the blood wane?”
“In some time.”
“When exactly?”
“I don’t know.”
She started mopping the floor again. At this point, it was already clean.
Gwen must be very use to cleaning blood.
But of course, it would be nothing to her.
Like she was cleaning up after a meal.
“Will you tell the King about this?”
“It is my duty to.”
“You will not.” She stated firmly.
“Milady.”
“I won’t try it again.”
“Because you know that for now, it’s useless. Milady, will you please just give the King a chance. A chance to his Majesty, is a chance to us all. I know of what you have suffered but you must know that we were not a part of it. This is cruel, especially to his Majesty. He really deserves to be happy.”
“I don’t care about your King’s happiness.” She flopped into dressing chair. With her red stained gown, she must look a sight. “I am not happy.”
“But–”
“Tell me what is in that bloodoath. Since I will have to be alive for a while, I think it is now necessary that I know.”
Gwen frowned, clearly displeased.
“Forgive me, Milady but attempting to take your life again, is stupid.”
“What?”
Gwen shrugged.
“Even the first time was dumb enough.”
Zezi was too shocked to speak.
“Whatever sacrifice you think you are making now will lose value, once you are gone. His Majesty will take his anger out on your people.”
The words were like ice to her heart, fire igniting her scars. They were true.
“He will take your ‘family’ down first.”
That was true. He had threatened to do that before.
If the he felt the need to, he could.
She knew.
Her heart was bounding in her chest.
Why hadn’t she thought any of this through in the first place?
“What is on that bloodoath?” She asked, her voice a little shaky.
Gwen told her everything, including the reason why she had ran back up here in the first place.
“No. Your King can keep his emergency invite. I don’t want to see him.”