I blinked several times, hoping that I would see a bit more clearly if I did it enough. No chance. I was enveloped by darkness and it didn't look like that was about to change any time soon.
I sensed my claustrophobia about to kick in, afraid that, for all I knew, I could be in some sort of extremely enclosed space, but the cold, airy feel of the room soon assured me that I was not.
I tried to move about the space and quickly realized that the lack of lighting was the least of my concerns. For one thing, I was being held by metal restraints on my wrists and ankles.
I could barely even raise my arms without requiring a considerable amount of effort. I tried to pull against my chains. They were fastened to the wall. I felt straw beneath my bare feet. I ran my hands over my body and felt the soft linen fabric of the white cover-up I pulled over my swimsuit before my untimely walk earlier that evening.
I had intended to go for a swim.
Yet another one of your brilliant ideas, Sofia. Now you're locked up in some sort of dungeon wearing your swimsuit and a cover-up that's nowhere near enough to fend off the biting cold. Genius. Just genius.
I gritted my teeth, loathing myself for being so careless about my own safety. I caught myself before I could turn myself into my own personal villain. The severity of the situation hit me full force and I was unable to suppress a shudder. What have I gotten myself into?
I'm in a dungeon. The word alone caused alternating images of stories I read about places like the London Tower and the kinds of torture prisoners endured there. I balled my fists, realizing for the first time how much I loved my fingers, as images flit through my mind of someone sticking sharp objects under my nails.
If my goal in life was to not go insane, then this sure as hell was not helping me meet my objective.
I sank to the ground, pulling my legs against my chest with my arms, remembering all those times I felt like something was wrong with me. Familiar fears of turning out like my mother did began to assault me. Growing up, I'd seen psychologist after psychologist trying to figure out "what was wrong with me". I apparently had ADHD when I was a kid, OCD during my preteen years. Just recently, they were testing me for bipolar disorder. Given this situation, I was sure I'd develop an extra disorder or two.
Let's add post-traumatic-stress disorder to the bunch.
I heard sounds – footsteps – coming from outside the room I was in.
Eight seconds later, the door unlocked and swung open. The incandescent lighting flickered on. It took a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust to the sudden flow of light. My first instinct was to take in every detail of the room I was in. With the light, it looked less archaic than it was in my imagination. The walls were actually made of concrete and not of mortar and brick like the castles of old.
I stared at the floor and frowned in confusion at the straw beneath my feet.
"The hay adds a nice touch I think. Makes our captives feel like they somehow time traveled to the Dark Ages."
My eyes were quickly drawn to the source of the voice. All I could do was glare at him.
It was the stranger from the beach.
There were so many questions I wanted him to answer, so many curses I wanted to blurt out, but I held my tongue. Considering my predicament and my very limited mobility, irking my captor didn't seem like the wisest thing to do.
He eyed me from head to foot the same way I did to him when we were back at the beach. This time, however, I could sense his hunger. He was predator. I was prey. I shuddered to think of exactly what kind of predator had just caught me in his trap.
His eyes were spanning the length of my legs as he approached me. He seemed to find amusement in my anxiety.
He stopped about a foot away from me and grinned as he studied me closely. The fact that he seemed pleased by what he saw made the situation even scarier than it already was.
"Who are you?! What do you want from me?!" I asked the questions not so I could hear the answers. I just needed to break the silence, in hopes of hiding my erratic heartbeats.
He raised his hand and brushed a stray strand of my auburn hair away from my face. I couldn't help but flinch from even the slightest hint of his touch. Everything about him told me that I wasn't safe around him.
His next actions solidified my suspicions that his intentions toward me were less than noble.
He pushed me to the wall and pinned me to it by leaning his full weight against me. It felt like he was trying to crush my ribs and every other internal organ I had.
"Welcome to the Blood Shade, Sofia." He leaned closer, his breath cool against my ear. "You really are quite a beauty, aren't you?"
From his lips, it sounded more like an insult than a compliment.
My fears were being replaced with anger. I gathered all the strength I could to lift my hands in an attempt to push him away. As I struggled, I became fully aware of the coarseness of the concrete wall behind me, scratching through the sheerness of my cover-up and grating at my bare back.
He chuckled when I failed to budge him even slightly. "You'll only hurt yourself."
"I demand that you let go of me. Now." I said the words with more confidence than I felt.
If there was even the slightest trace of true confidence in me, he managed to make it disappear when he grabbed a clump of my hair with one hand and my jaw with the other. He leaned his face close to mine, the tips of our noses almost touching.
"It will do you well to learn that here, you are not in a place to make impetuous demands." The words came out of his lips in a hiss.
It was appropriate for him; he was revealing to me exactly what he was. A snake. His hands eased out of my hair and away from my jaw before he began to freely grope my body in places no other person apart from myself had ever touched before. His eyes never left mine even as I tried to wither away from his touch.
"There's no escape, Sofia. If you want to survive, you must realize that in this kingdom, you exist to obey. Do as you're told and we just might allow you to live."
I spat on his face. It was the only act of defiance I could manage, considering how I was positioned to take whatever abuse he saw fit to throw my way.
I had a feeling of victory that lasted for about a second, before he wiped his face clean with the back of his hand. His other hand found its way back to my jaw.
"You asked me what I wanted from you. There really is only one thing you could give me, Sofia."
I glared at him, determined to die with dignity and self-respect. "Oh? And what's that?"
His answers sent chills down my spine. "You."
Before I could even let that fully register, fangs protruded from his mouth. He pushed my head to the side, giving him easy access to my neck. It felt like I was in a dream but, as much as I tried to pinch myself awake, there was no escaping it.
I was convinced that my greatest fear had come to pass. I'd already gone insane, because at that moment, I was a hundred percent sure that I was about to be eaten alive by a vampire.