Claws and Effect
Chapter One
For the first time in six long, dark months, I was completely, utterly free.
I ran through the night woods, not stopping. My feet were bare and it was cold outside and I had nothing to cover my body but a filthy bikini that should have long ago been tossed in the garbage, but I was not stopping. I was free.
And freedom, I vowed, would never be taken from me again.
It had been snatched away so quickly and easily that it couldn't be believed. I'd thought - foolishly - that if a young, college girl dropped off the face of the planet one morning that someone would come looking for me. Someone would find my car, notice I wasn't showing up for classes or paying my bills.
Nope.
Lily Faust disappeared, and the world didn't give a shit. That taught me a lot about the world.
Just after my twenty-second birthday, I'd been feeling a bit lonely. A bit sad. I wasn't dating anyone, and I was an orphan, thanks to a car accident that had stolen both of my parents some five years past. My closest friends had either graduated or transferred schools, and I wasn't the most outgoing person anyhow, and I found myself in the weird position of having zero plans on my birthday, and no one to spend it with.
I was completely and utterly alone. That hurt. That wasn't how it was supposed to be. I was young. I wasn't hideous, and I wasn't unlikable. Maybe a bit quiet and withdrawn, but losing your family does that to you. But twenty-two was still too young to be completely isolated, wasn't it? I celebrated my birthday alone with a cupcake and a movie.
The next day, I'd signed up for a dating website. It couldn't hurt, and I needed friends. Heck, I'd settle for acquaintances with benefits. I'd made my profile, uploaded my picture, and waited. There were the usual hits from creeps just looking to get laid, but those were easy enough to suss out. I did get one hit that intrigued me. He was older than me, but that wasn't a bad thing. He was educated, and smart, and quoted Faust in his email to me. Maybe it was a little corny, but I was charmed by a guy that sent more than "A/S/L" in his email and didn't write every sentence in text speak.
I'd met Andre at a coffee shop. He'd been nice enough, and charming. I didn't care that he wasn't my type, because it was just nice to talk to someone. We'd headed to a movie after the coffee date, and when we'd gotten out to the parking lot, my car had a flat tire. Andre had innocently suggested he drive me home.
I'd agreed. In retrospect, I should have guessed that he was probably the one who'd slashed my tire.
Instead of driving me home, Andre had drove out to a secluded park and tried to put the moves on me. When he leaned in to kiss me, I'd immediately leaned away - I was always a skittish sort, and the diversion in our path had made me even more nervous. I'd panicked and tried to get out of the car.
My door wouldn't open. Andre grabbed me, choked me, and I'd fought back, clawing at him until stars burst behind my eyes and the world went black.
When I woke up, I was in a wine cellar. A metal collar was clasped around my neck and attached to a chain on the wall. My clothes were gone, and I was dressed in a tiny string bikini. And I was in the dark, and alone.
And I was terrified.
I'd wept for hours, certain that Andre was going to show up with plastic sheeting, pull a Dexter, and then bury me in the backyard. I figured that the man that had captured me was a regular, run of the mill serial killer with a thing for blonde college girls, and I'd stupidly fallen into his trap.
I'd never imagined that Andre was a four hundred year old vampire who needed fresh blood every day. Those kinds of things didn't happen in my world. Vampires didn't exist. Things didn't really go bump in the night. The scariest things that existed were stories about bombings on the news or tax hikes.
I had my eyes opened to an entirely new world that day.
Andre didn't want to kill me. He didn't want sex from me. He'd put me in the bikini because it left my arms and legs bare. It was easier to find a vein that way.
Andre was a vampire, and I was his captive dinner.
Every day, he'd come down to the basement and feed on me. If he was having a particularly lazy day, one of his cronies would unhook my chain and drag me upstairs, and I'd get to see a bit of Andre's beautiful home for a few minutes as the vampire drank from one of my veins. Then, as soon as he'd taken enough blood to make me lightheaded, he'd send me back downstairs with juice and cookies, like I'd donated at a blood drive.
It was almost funny.
Almost.
Days passed. Then weeks. Then months. My days fell into a pattern. Every day, I was stuffed with food and crammed full of vitamins to help replenish my blood supply, and given plenty of water. Andre drank from me every day. Sometimes twice a day if he couldn't find anyone else. And even though they kept shoving food into my mouth, I grew thin and weak. I suspected Andre was taking too much, but it wasn't like he cared what happened to me.
If I died, I'd just be buried in a shallow grave in the backyard or something. I'd be disposed of. Forgotten. Just like the world had forgotten about me. So I didn't fight. I dutifully drank my juice and ate my cookies and produced blood so I could keep on living.
The worst was when Andre brought home other girls.
It wasn't jealousy. I didn't care if he drank from a hundred girls. In fact, I'd been relieved when the first sobbing, terrified girl had shown up in the basement next to me. Relieved and guilty that I hoped he'd let me go and find someone else to feed off of. But I quickly learned that the other girls never stuck around.
If they didn't eat, they were disposed of. One quick snap to the neck, and one less mouth to feed.
If they fought back, they were disposed of. If they couldn't keep up with Andre's blood demands, they were disposed of.
I learned to dread the appearance of another girl in the basement, because I knew she was doomed. And each one that only lasted a few weeks just reminded me that I was living on borrowed time myself. So I huddled in my corner, made my veins available, and dreamed of the day that I'd escape. When I was taken upstairs, I stole small things and stuffed them into my bikini when Andre wasn't looking. After a time, I had a few sharpened pencils and rubber bands. I tied them together, made myself a stake, and waited for the day that I could earn my freedom.
That day was today.
Hours ago, Andre had brought his newest conquest home, a too-skinny, pale woman named Marie. I'd tried to warn Marie, to tell her to play it safe. To keep it quiet and be good and she'd live a lot longer. But Marie was a fighter, and Marie came with friends.
And Marie's friends were just as scary as the vampires. Her boyfriend had shape shifted into an enormous mountain lion and fought Andre. Just when I'd thought vampires were enough, Marie had brought in shape shifters.
We'd killed Andre. I'd shoved my pencil-stake right into his heart and hadn't regretted it in the slightest. And I thought that would be the end of my story. I'd go home. Resume my normal life. Except Marie's new friends had other ideas.
They'd taken Marie away. They'd driven us out into the country, dragged us into a new, unfamiliar farmhouse full of lights and sounds and big, scary men with eyes that gleamed in shadow.
And I knew I'd traded one monster for new ones.
They led me into the farmhouse, and gave me a blanket. They removed the metal collar from my aching throat. They talked in gentle voices and were careful around me while I cringed. But they took Marie away and left me with strangers. And when I went to the bathroom, I could hear them talking down the hall.
Talking about what to do with me.
"We can't let her go," said one man. "She knows too much."
Ice filled my veins and I'd returned to my seat, pretending to be docile while my mind whirled and planned. I knew too much. I knew they were monsters, just like Andre was, and I wasn't going to be allowed to go home. I'd be stuck in another basement, forgotten and probably fed off of all over again.
I had to get out of here.
"Come on," one of the men told me after a time. "We'll get you to your room."
"I want to go home," I told him, clutching the blanket to my shoulders.
"Tomorrow, maybe," he said. And he smiled at me.
I began to fight. Kicking, screaming, wailing like a banshee, I fought. The man was clearly startled at my reaction, and his rough hand clutched my shoulder no matter how hard I wriggled and fought to get away. "Austin," he yelled, and then another man was on me, and another. I screamed even louder as the men bore me down to the ground.
"Give her something to shut her up," the one man growled in my ear, and someone approached with a needle. I jerked and fought, but they stabbed me in the arm with it anyhow.
Things got blurry after that. My legs grew weak and I slid to the ground, and the last thing I remembered seeing were the dark eyes of the man holding me as he gently bore me to the ground.
"You sure you want to hold her, Ellis?" one of the voices said as my vision went dark. "She stinks."
"She's scared," said another man. "I don't mind holding her."
The world went black.
I woke up some time later, struggling awake despite the meds. Everything in my body wanted me to roll over and go back to sleep, but I forced myself awake, dragging my body out of the bed I found myself in. I sat up, feeling heavy and numb. I was alone in a small room. There was a twin bed and a dresser and a window. It was clearly a guest room. I went to the window. I was on the second floor, but the roof overhang was right outside the window. As prisons went, this one would be far too easy to escape. I edged the window open, slid out the opening, and scooted down the roof on my butt until I hit the rain gutter. I peered below. It was at least a ten foot drop.
It'd hurt like hell, but so would being buried in a shallow grave, right? Hitching my blanket around my shoulders, I sucked in a breath and rolled off the roof.
The ground rushed up and I landed on my side, knocking the air out of my lungs. I writhed on the ground for a few minutes, desperately trying to pull air into my lungs again. When I could breathe, I got to my feet and began to creep away.
Luckily for me, the farmhouse was at the edge of the woods. I crossed the yard quietly and disappeared into the trees. As soon as I hit the tree line, though, I began to run.
And I was still running.
I ran in the darkness, my bare feet torn by branches and thorns. The skin on my legs stung, cut from shrubs and god-knew-what else, but I ran on. It didn't matter as long as I was free. So I ran and ran. It felt like hours passed, but I was still running, and there were still trees. Eventually, I had to come to a road, and then I'd follow it into town. Once I hit town, I'd be safe from monsters. I'd go home to my dorm - I tried not to think about what had happened to my stuff once I stopped paying tuition -- and everything would be all right.
My side began to ache after a time, and I paused, resting against a nearby tree, my hand pressed to my stomach. I was still weak and slow due to my captivity. It didn't matter how many vitamins Andre pumped me full of if I wasn't making enough blood to keep me healthy. But I kept going. My feet ached and felt swollen and my legs felt like lead, but I kept going. Black spots swam in front of my gaze. I still kept going. There wasn't an option to stop, not really.
If I stopped, the monsters would get me.
I laughed to myself at how absurd - and yet true - that statement was.
I stumbled forward, tripping over a root, and my leg throbbed with pain a second before my chin smacked into the ground. I whimpered, blackness threatening to take over once again, but I shook my head and fought it back. I couldn't pass out now.
