Sunlight beamed through the magnificent windows. Dawn had breached hours before, the sunlight using the interim to creep over the floor and rest across the bed. It warmed the body curled tightly in a sea of sheets. Violet's red hair pooled across the pillowcase, and her eyes flickered open. Gazing at the wall, she took a few moments to pull herself out of a dreamy state and recall the events of the previous night.
Despite her cautious nature, Violet had given in to her body's weakness and slept in a foreign bed. Quite soundly to her own surprise, and it had done wonders for her. While still fighting a dull aching in her skull, Violet was grateful the nausea had subsided along with the dizzy spells.
Gingerly lifting herself into a sitting position she glanced in the direction of the settee that had once been occupied by the mysterious man. Relieved to find herself alone, Violet took a moment to observe the room.
It was astounding. As if she had awoken in an 18th century manor, elegantly decorated with French Provincial furnishings and damask wallpaper. The hand carved moldings she briefly saw that night now shined in their white splendor along the walls and across the ceiling to encircle a glimmering chandelier.
"Curiouser and curiouser." Violet whispered, her mind now bombarded with questions to the mystery unfolding before her. It took her entering a state of meditation to calm her breathing and keep her body from leaping up and sprinting out the door. Right now, she needed to take time to digest what information she DID have.
She had awoken in an unfamiliar house, unrestrained. Her wound had been cleaned and bandaged by the man who had come to her aid in the alley. He had assured her no harm, although promises from a captor meant nothing to her. He had also apparently attacked her assailant with his teeth!?
Violet leaned forward into the palms of her hands conflicted and baffled. She sat still for several minutes before her raspy voice finally broke the silence, "It might be best to play along until I can grasp this situation."
"Time for exploration." Violet carefully freed herself from the sheets delicately placing her foot down to apply pressure on her sore ankle, bracing herself with the wall. Making her way across the room she opened the door as quietly as possible and peered out. Rugs cascaded down the hallway lined with towering windows and she followed them, not a human in sight.
The tall windows, high ceilings, spiraling staircases and decorative moldings left Violet gaping in a very unattractive way. Whoever this man was, he had enough money to spare. And Violet, coming from a poor household, thought it overkill.
It wasn't long before she hobbled her way through the front corner of the mansion discovering the kitchen.
'Food! Exactly what I need to calm my nerves and soothe my hunger.' Violet's stomach rumbled as she limped through the immaculate kitchen. It was a cold room with silver appliances, grey cabinets, and grey tiles. Violet shivered unconsciously. It was no place she would have enjoyed cooking warm meals.
Empty. Empty. Empty. EMPTY!
"What the hell does he eat!" Violet barked, slamming the last cabinet closed. 'They were all empty! Who the hell has a kitchen and doesn't use it!'
Her last hope... Violet moved towards it and opened the double-doored chrome fridge only to stand momentarily dumbstruck. Closing it quickly she held the handles, blinking profusely, attempting to digest what she had just seen. Then opened it again to make sure her eyes weren't playing tricks on her.
They weren't. Inside lay packs upon packs of blood. A weird tingling sensation began to fill up her extremities, but it wasn't from the unusually cold air escaping the fridge. She knew this feeling all too well, it was fear.
"Maybe he has a pet vampire bat!" Violet jokes, the fake laugh echoing within the empty kitchen.
She shut the doors quickly (along with her mouth) and turned around, throwing both hands onto her hips and entering into a thinking pose.
Violet thought hard and long, but everything that came to mind was either illogical or mythical.
"Good morning."
A sudden voice broke Violet's train of thoughts, snapping her back to reality to find Esmond standing in the kitchen doorway. In the light she was finally able to get a good look at him. The man who stood there had to be over 6 foot tall, broad shoulders and toned body apparent through the black ensemble of clothing that hugged him. A huge contrast against his ghostly pale skin.
Raven black hair cascaded over his shoulder to rest on his chest in a low ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame the long and slender face. Thick brows pushed down on narrow eyes that glowed a shocking citrine. The rest of his features were as equally well proportioned and seductive, leaving Violet disgusted with herself for thinking him handsome. Devilishly handsome.
"Are you a devil?" Violet gasped, almost choking on her own spit when she realized she had spoken her thoughts out loud.
Esmond's gaze was firm, as if he was analyzing her. "I've been called that before, but I am not." His expression was unreadable, but Violet felt as if she caught a small flicker of humor run through them.
"I don't know how well you remember last night, but my name is Esmond. I do not own a pet bat, or any animals for that matter. In fact, your the only other living creature in this home."
"And the blood packs I saw?"
"I am the one who consumes them. Because I am what society terms a Vampire."
Violet stared at him, her eyes unnaturally wide and mouth slightly agape. It took a moment to digest his words and form a response.
"A…..Vampire. As in those blood-sucking mythical legends that slaughtered villages and indulged in their blood-thirsty pleasures? Like Dracula?"
Violet was in a state of disbelief, and it was apparent in her cocked eyebrow and doubtful glare. Vampires? That was nothing but folklore. This man obviously had something seriously wrong with him...mentally.
"Then are you a part of some blood-sulking cult?" Violet recalled something she had seen on one of those criminal investigation shows. A cult that believed themselves Vampires. They would alter their teeth with fangs and host blood drinking parties. In reality they were all just a group of deranged psychopaths.
Esmond released a faint sigh, and despite his placid expression, Violet thought he seemed irritated. She wasn't sure how she could read past that handsome and frozen exterior, but she fathomed it had something to do with those deep golden pools staring at her. They shimmered and swirled, speaking in words that wouldn't need to be said out loud. They felt familiar, and Violet realized that she was gazing into a reflection of her own eyes: empty, lonely, cold, with a smoldering fire lying in wait beneath.
Esmond finally spoke, his rich baritone voice filling the entire space and her entire being, "It is human nature to take the truth and twist it into an entertaining story. That is what happened after the plague. Those few of us who survived, were then divided even further into those who avoided the disease all together, or contracted it and lived. My family was a part of that second half, and our biology changed."
'Plague? Changing biology?' Violet's mind filled with questions.
"I am a Vampire but as human as you are." Esmond finished and Violet responded with a sarcastic laugh. She decided to play along with this delusional man.
"So silver won't burn you?"
"No."
"What about garlic?"
"Just gives you bad breath."
"Crosses?"
He performed the Catholic Sign of the Cross.
"Stakes to the heart?"
"Would kill anyone."
"Sunlight!"
"Sunburn."
At this point she was crying in laughter, doubled over and aching in disbelief. Not only because of his straight-faced humor, but the entire situation. "That's it. Your delusional." Violet mumbled regaining her composure and wiping the tears from her eyes. She had been rescued from the deathly hollows only to awake in Dracula's castle!