Sickly, Sweet - Book One

Ch. 7 - Monsters

'I will keep quiet, you won't even know I'm here.

You won't suspect a thing, you won't see me in the mirror.

But I crept into your heart, you can't make me disappear.

Till I make you.'

- The Devil Within, Digital Daggers

***

Valentine's tight grip is still around my neck as he growls at me in disgust. "You think I would waste such a pretty, little thing like you? You, on the other hand, have wasted time and blood to find out who you truly are. Tell me, Saphira, how much has Augustine told you?"

I stare into his cold, lifeless eyes and scowl while attempting to pry his hands off of my neck. "Augustine hasn't told me anything, you prick," I manage to breathe out.

"You're not a very good liar, are you?"

I spit at him. "Why do you give a damn about anything? Let me go."

"You're a coward, just like your mother." He hisses at me and violently throws me to the floor. I breathe in deeply and struggle to stand as I watch Valentine walk quickly around the corner with haste in his footsteps. I put his comment on the back of my mind and brush it off, for now.

I use the wall as a crutch to lead me back to my quarters - I have no strength and slumber wants to overrule my desires. I look around the room and assess my situation and try to find a way to get myself out of here. Before I could even think, I am in a deep sleep but only to be rudely awakened by a sensation that ran up and down my body. I scream and twist my body into a fetal position.

I feel a presence in the room and I shout, "Go to hell, Valentine! You did this to me!" I shout ruthlessly at him and fall out of the bed, hitting the floor with an audible sound.

"You're changing."

I refrain from my cocky remarks and close my eyes to try to endure the pain and hope that it would subside. My breathing is labored and I feel like I am being choked. There is no way to be in denial now. My fate is sealed because of my reckless actions.

"Don't lie to yourself, Saphira, you know what happens next." He crouches down to my level to stare at me with pity.

I screech as he forcefully grabs my face and strokes my face.

"Drink," he whispers and bites into his wrists and lets his thick, dark blood run. My body convulses at its delicious aroma and I crave. I taste blood in my mouth from my own nasty, unwanted fangs and hunger for more.

I recoil when he inches his arm directly over my mouth. "I'd rather die than drink your blood!"

He smiles, mischievously, and forces his bleeding arm on my mouth. I regrettably make a callous mistake and bite him. His sweet blood gushes in my mouth like liquid chocolate and I moan in pleasure. My heart beats rapidly and my nerves are live wires.

Within a few seconds, I have him pinned to the floor and heat builds between and through us and my thirst feels like nothing can satisfy it. He let's our a small groan and it only makes me want more of his blood.

In less than a second, I feel an empty space between us and a pang of cold and thirst. I want more and all I feel is self-loathe.

"That's enough for you tonight, I need rest," he says with a husky and low tone. He, himself, being tired and sleepy as if I have just sucked the life out of him. Oh, wait, I just did. I don't know if I am proud or if I want to stab myself with my own dagger. Either way, it degrades my whole being.