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Description
My hearing returns to me first. It tells me the echoing silence of an empty chamber. The first experimental breath tells of a surrounding pool of blood. My blood. I open my eyes but still see nothing. Take another breath. A deep ache cuts through me, like the track of a weapon, barely healed. The broken link of a chain digs into me, noticeable against its undamaged counterparts. My vision clears and the concrete dungeon swims into view. The only light filters from the cracks around the door.

I move my hand to peel myself off the floor and, to my dismay, find it shackled. My memory of recent events floods back. The inescapable chains and shackles. Him. His gun, the gag, the kick the shot the painthedieingbut… How?

I sit up slowly, gritting my teeth as the bullet wound pulls. There are two small holes in my bodysuit, one on my stomach and one on my side. The skin under the holes is pink and scabby. The material around the holes is caked with my dried blood, most of which is clotting on the floor. I snarl in disgust when I see my suit peeled back over my shoulders to expose my chest, and unzipped all the way down. Fortunately only metal and gunpowder are detectable through the bloody aroma, no lust.

I’m in reasonably good shape considering I died recently, although how I’m still alive, I’m not sure. I turn my attention to the broken chain. A chunk has been taken out of it, but there is no way I could get one of the other links through the gap. Shuffling back against the wall, I squirm into a crouch. Deep breath. And push. I soar away from the wall, almost like flying. Then the chains on the walls yank my shackled wrists back, which, in turn, yank the chains around my body tight. I plummet to the floor. My heart stops for a second as I realise how much noise I’ve made. Freeze. After five minutes, there is no sound of approach and I allow myself to examine the chain. The link is wide open. I wriggle my shoulders until the other link falls through and the whole chain unwinds itself onto a pile on the floor.

Swiftly, I manoeuvre my body through the newly formed gap between my elbows. Bum first, then right knee and foot before the same for the left leg. I quickly draw one of my wires from my boot, careful not to cut my hand on it’s finely sharpened edge. Gingerly loop it across the join in the two shackles and through the link of the chains that bind me to the wall.

A shadow passes through the light from the door. I stop dead, wire halfway to my mouth, absolutely motionless. An age passes before I am able to convince myself it was my imagination. I cautiously press the ends of the wire between my teeth. A scream comes from a wall, a human scream. The shadow was Him. I saw at the shackles with the wire, trying to ignore the now frequent screams. Poor girl. The wire grinds to a halt against the core of the chain. I withdraw it and thread it back into my bootlace. Anticipating another scream, I seize my chance and smash my shackles against the floor. Then pause, straining with every sense. The girl moans, but there are no footsteps. I dare to yank my hands apart. The chains detach and I am left with a metal band around each wrist. Carefully, I lower the chains against the wall. I zip up my shirt and pad over to my dress. It’s torn in many places, where my concealed weapons were found. That’s two dresses he’s ruined now… I put my wrist and calf sheathes on, checking the daggers and pulling on my gloves.

I steal over to the door. About to extract my lock-pick earrings, the explanation for my rebirth finally presents itself. I draw a dagger and open a shallow cut in my arm. It bleeds a little then heals. The diet. By drinking little and often from so many people, my immune system trained itself to heal cuts as well as infections. I touch my cheek. But not bruises it seems… I lick the blood off the blade and slide it back into its sheath.

A key turns in the door. The door slams open and rebounds off the wall. I flatten myself even more into the wall and slide behind it. Hold my breath as he enters. He glances at the blood on the floor, where I should still be lying, then peers into the gloom. He slams the door behind him, locking it then stomping angrily away. I relax and slump against the floor. No. No time. Forcing myself to my feet, I pull my lock-picks from my earlobes and pick the lock.

Cautiously, I pull the door towards me and slip through the crack. Glance left and right, then glide to and up the stairs, hands on dagger hilts and hugging the wall. I reach the top and pause, then tiptoe along the corridor, darting past any open doors. The open window grows closer.

“Tor?” His voice calls from the room as I dash past. I freeze, then back up against the wall on the other side of the hall. Don’t move. Don’t breathe. He appears in the doorway. A flash of surprise crosses his face as he sees me, but I’m already flying through the air towards him, drawing my daggers. I collide with him and send both of us crashing to the floor of the room. I roll and jump to my feet as he draws his sword. He yells then rushes me with his sword raised. I block it with my daggers and knee him in the stomach. He grunts and twirls away as I dive in and slash at his throat. I block a series of sideswipes that open numerous cuts in my arms. Thinking he has the better of me, he spins and kicks, sword parallel to his leg. I duck under the sword and slash at his leg. He roars as my dagger severs his hamstring. Swiftly, I follow up with the other leg and send him plummeting to the floor. He uses his hand to push off the floor, driving at me with everything he has left. I drop a dagger and twist his wrist, disarming him. I kick the sword away. He falls back, panting even harder than I am. I want to slump to the floor, but this isn’t over yet. I grab his pistol from the fireplace and load it. Spin back and wearily raise my arm, pointing it at him.

“No.” He raises one palm to me, as if it can stop a bullet. “ You can’t.”

I raise my head and talk to the ceiling.

“I can”

“No. We. Vampires. We must stick. Together.”

“You hoped to accomplish this by kidnapping me, attempting rape and killing me?” I meet his gaze.

“We are the same.” He pleads.

“No. I am noble. You are not. I do not kill unjustly.” I close my eyes and pull the trigger. The gun jumps in my hand, bullet eager to do its job. He gasps as it enters his heart and falls back on the floor. The blood spreads around him, pooling in a crimson mess. A tear escapes, running down my face. His mouth is open and he vomits blood, choking on it, shaking all over. I slump to my knees by his feet, sobbing as I watch his life drain away. Life is precious. Life should not be wasted. I sob from knowing I must not save him.

Eventually he lies still. His blood stains my knees, soaking through my bodysuit.

I whisper to the corpse.

“I can.”

Description
My hearing returns to me first. It tells me the echoing silence of an empty chamber. The first experimental breath tells of a surrounding pool of blood. My blood. I open my eyes but still see nothing. Take another breath. A deep ache cuts through me, like the track of a weapon, barely healed. The broken link of a chain digs into me, noticeable against its undamaged counterparts. My vision clears and the concrete dungeon swims into view. The only light filters from the cracks around the door.

I move my hand to peel myself off the floor and, to my dismay, find it shackled. My memory of recent events floods back. The inescapable chains and shackles. Him. His gun, the gag, the kick the shot the painthedieingbut… How?

I sit up slowly, gritting my teeth as the bullet wound pulls. There are two small holes in my bodysuit, one on my stomach and one on my side. The skin under the holes is pink and scabby. The material around the holes is caked with my dried blood, most of which is clotting on the floor. I snarl in disgust when I see my suit peeled back over my shoulders to expose my chest, and unzipped all the way down. Fortunately only metal and gunpowder are detectable through the bloody aroma, no lust.

I’m in reasonably good shape considering I died recently, although how I’m still alive, I’m not sure. I turn my attention to the broken chain. A chunk has been taken out of it, but there is no way I could get one of the other links through the gap. Shuffling back against the wall, I squirm into a crouch. Deep breath. And push. I soar away from the wall, almost like flying. Then the chains on the walls yank my shackled wrists back, which, in turn, yank the chains around my body tight. I plummet to the floor. My heart stops for a second as I realise how much noise I’ve made. Freeze. After five minutes, there is no sound of approach and I allow myself to examine the chain. The link is wide open. I wriggle my shoulders until the other link falls through and the whole chain unwinds itself onto a pile on the floor.

Swiftly, I manoeuvre my body through the newly formed gap between my elbows. Bum first, then right knee and foot before the same for the left leg. I quickly draw one of my wires from my boot, careful not to cut my hand on it’s finely sharpened edge. Gingerly loop it across the join in the two shackles and through the link of the chains that bind me to the wall.

A shadow passes through the light from the door. I stop dead, wire halfway to my mouth, absolutely motionless. An age passes before I am able to convince myself it was my imagination. I cautiously press the ends of the wire between my teeth. A scream comes from a wall, a human scream. The shadow was Him. I saw at the shackles with the wire, trying to ignore the now frequent screams. Poor girl. The wire grinds to a halt against the core of the chain. I withdraw it and thread it back into my bootlace. Anticipating another scream, I seize my chance and smash my shackles against the floor. Then pause, straining with every sense. The girl moans, but there are no footsteps. I dare to yank my hands apart. The chains detach and I am left with a metal band around each wrist. Carefully, I lower the chains against the wall. I zip up my shirt and pad over to my dress. It’s torn in many places, where my concealed weapons were found. That’s two dresses he’s ruined now… I put my wrist and calf sheathes on, checking the daggers and pulling on my gloves.

I steal over to the door. About to extract my lock-pick earrings, the explanation for my rebirth finally presents itself. I draw a dagger and open a shallow cut in my arm. It bleeds a little then heals. The diet. By drinking little and often from so many people, my immune system trained itself to heal cuts as well as infections. I touch my cheek. But not bruises it seems… I lick the blood off the blade and slide it back into its sheath.

A key turns in the door. The door slams open and rebounds off the wall. I flatten myself even more into the wall and slide behind it. Hold my breath as he enters. He glances at the blood on the floor, where I should still be lying, then peers into the gloom. He slams the door behind him, locking it then stomping angrily away. I relax and slump against the floor. No. No time. Forcing myself to my feet, I pull my lock-picks from my earlobes and pick the lock.

Cautiously, I pull the door towards me and slip through the crack. Glance left and right, then glide to and up the stairs, hands on dagger hilts and hugging the wall. I reach the top and pause, then tiptoe along the corridor, darting past any open doors. The open window grows closer.

“Tor?” His voice calls from the room as I dash past. I freeze, then back up against the wall on the other side of the hall. Don’t move. Don’t breathe. He appears in the doorway. A flash of surprise crosses his face as he sees me, but I’m already flying through the air towards him, drawing my daggers. I collide with him and send both of us crashing to the floor of the room. I roll and jump to my feet as he draws his sword. He yells then rushes me with his sword raised. I block it with my daggers and knee him in the stomach. He grunts and twirls away as I dive in and slash at his throat. I block a series of sideswipes that open numerous cuts in my arms. Thinking he has the better of me, he spins and kicks, sword parallel to his leg. I duck under the sword and slash at his leg. He roars as my dagger severs his hamstring. Swiftly, I follow up with the other leg and send him plummeting to the floor. He uses his hand to push off the floor, driving at me with everything he has left. I drop a dagger and twist his wrist, disarming him. I kick the sword away. He falls back, panting even harder than I am. I want to slump to the floor, but this isn’t over yet. I grab his pistol from the fireplace and load it. Spin back and wearily raise my arm, pointing it at him.

“No.” He raises one palm to me, as if it can stop a bullet. “ You can’t.”

I raise my head and talk to the ceiling.

“I can”

“No. We. Vampires. We must stick. Together.”

“You hoped to accomplish this by kidnapping me, attempting rape and killing me?” I meet his gaze.

“We are the same.” He pleads.

“No. I am noble. You are not. I do not kill unjustly.” I close my eyes and pull the trigger. The gun jumps in my hand, bullet eager to do its job. He gasps as it enters his heart and falls back on the floor. The blood spreads around him, pooling in a crimson mess. A tear escapes, running down my face. His mouth is open and he vomits blood, choking on it, shaking all over. I slump to my knees by his feet, sobbing as I watch his life drain away. Life is precious. Life should not be wasted. I sob from knowing I must not save him.

Eventually he lies still. His blood stains my knees, soaking through my bodysuit.

I whisper to the corpse.

“I can.”