The basement floor is dank and wet. I stopped shivering from it days ago. I've grown used to it's cold embrace. I will fall in and out of consciousness a few times every day, but if i'm being honest I cannot even tell how much time has passed. It could be hours or weeks and I would not have a clue. I've gotten to the point where the hunger doesn't affect me. My stomach grumbles yet again and I don't even bother to move from my position. The slop they bring me should be here any minute, if I am correct about my timing of them.
I don't know who "they" are, but they sure do know who I am. They jeer at me with their cruel and raspy voices beneath their hoods. I pleaded and begged with them at first, but when I realized they wouldn't respond to my cries, I gave up. If anything, they enjoyed my suffering.
So since the first few hours after I arrived in my current cell, I have stayed on the floor, unmoving. I have noticed at least 15 cracks in the dark, cement wall. 39 mysterious splatters. 26 of them a dark brown - it must have been dried blood. 13 of them were a lighter color, I can't quite decipher.
How did I get here? I think to myself.
YOU ARE READING
Supernatural Sugardaddies
RomanceOne girl. A CEO billionaire vampire. A Werewolf biker. A Vampire Hunter. She's a small town girl going to the bustling city, Seattle, with big dreams. Her dark past is trying to follow her but she has to make her own way. Alora leaves her whole life...
