Making You Mine...
Author's note: What inspired me to write this piece? Wow, let's see. Um... all my fiction work is actually just... Show full author's note »
Fainting? That is so uncool.Chapter Four
It was so beautiful. Gothic but extravagant. The rooms were cold, lonely and desolate but romantic and mystical. I felt like a princess.
“Hello,” One of the maids asked. Oh yes they had maids. Of course they had! Because they’re just filthy rich criminals. “I’m Rebecca,”
“Hello,” I shook her hand.
“May I escort you to your room, M’lady?” She stood there smiling.
“My r-r-room.” I stuttered.
Then I felt his hand on my
He really does get to me. Oh, he’s got it coming to him.
I turned back to Rebecca. “That would be lovely, thank you.”
There was a massive staircase that begun in the concrete hallway and spiralled upwards onto numerous floors. Five floors. Oh you’re good Grace.
I was on the very first floor, thank god. The hall ways were all a deep red and was very feminine.
“All twelve candidates are placed on this floor.” Rebecca said leading the way.
“I don’t follow.” I scurried over, still in bare feet, my toes brushing across the lush carpet.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I do believe Prince Kaspar asked me to tell you about the competition.”
“Right, yeah. I didn’t enter any competition…”
We stopped outside the last door. “No-one does. You get picked.”
Then she left. Left me standing. In a house full of criminals, in a competition I had been picked for. This is messed up.
I opened the door, creaking with its every shudder of movement sweeping across the red carpet at my feet. Everything in the room was a blood red or black. It was amazing. Magnificent and exquisite.
And they even had a king bed. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.
Wait, what am I thinking? This can only be trouble.
How long have I been here? Lying on this bed lost in thoughts. I don’t know, but someone was knocking on my door.
“Come in.” I cried. My voice slightly muffled by the bed sheets.
Rebecca walked in and curtsied at the door, Prince Kaspar has asked me to prepare you for the first dismissive ball.
This is going to be good.
“I can’t breathe.” I gasped for breath, doubling over.
“Oh,” Rebecca let out a small squeal messing around with the straps on my corset and immediately I felt the pressure across my chest loosen, slightly, but enough to breathe.
“How’s that? I’m sorry.” She kept fumbling round the dress.
“It’s ok.” I wheezed.
It had as corset, and a very long skirt. It was nice.
But only nice enough for those Georgian era duchesses.
“Why the hell, am I wearing this?” I muttered, In don’t think Rebecca heard. I think she did however notice my gesture towards the dress. The dress with the ruffled train and and lace old fashioned corset. It was a pale skin colour, and pretty in a - rather old fashioned way.
I had asked her before. I had practically screamed at her to tell me why I was wearing this stupid dress, but no. No answer.
“OK, you’re done!” She exclaimed happily, her hands clapping together excitedly.
I don’t know how many times in the duration of this ‘kidnapping’, really twisted kidnapping, that I am not happy. But once again. I am not happy. Damn, is pretty much all I had to say at the moment.
Rebecca took me by the hand and led me back through the twisting corridors. Vases, clocks and roses lined the walls and I felt as, for some odd reason, like I was in the mad hatter’s tea party. This place really is odd.
And then we reached the stairs. It was different. A blood red carpet lined the clean white marble stairs and roses curled down the banister.
It felt so so special.
And so so wrong.
“Go on down.” Rebecca whispered in my ear urging me on. I made my way down the stairs, the tapping of my heels was muffled against the carpet. At the bottom, the carpet led to a side door, I hadn’t noticed when I walked through here before, and I took it.
Ballrooms? Do people still have those? Apparently. Imagine the theme that I had passed in the corridors. Roses, red and black, them imagine it hanging from the ceilings and crawling up the walls.
And inside were rows and rows of tables. I walked in. at the far end was a raised platform with a microphone. I felt numerous eyes on me. I looked down.
Well, that’s odd. I pulled out the satin chair and sat myself down. I looked around. We were sat at the back sat opposite an identical table of six and in front there were large rectangular tables that look as if they held some very important people.
Chastity sat on the opposite table. There were other girls sat next to her, all looked our age and they all leaned towards her captivated in Chastity’s every word. She was always very popular. I was not; I was a maverick in my own right. I like to think I was the exciting one, but I think to a lot of people it’s actually Chastity.
I didn’t receive glares but I could feel they’re eyes, burning into me. Scouring me. I feel, all of a sudden, very vulnerable. I am in a room full of kidnappers, of course I do.
Someone walked up to the microphone, Kaspar. “Welcome Ladies and Gentlemen, especially to our contestants…”
I swear on my life he winked at me.
“… A good evening to all. What a wonderful start to the competition…”
The crowd laughed and cheered. I looked around properly for the first time; Kaspar’s words just whispers in my head. The people around me. Some were cheering along and smiling and others were crying. Sobbing into their hands, clutching the tablecloth.
“…I will now explain the competition and its prizes…”
He winked again, not at me, at Chastity and the other table.
“There are three clues, you must find them all. It is rather simple. Two rules however…” He cleared his throat.
This is a weird night.
“No alliances, anyone found working in a group will be disqualified. No cheating, no telling where the clues are or leading anyone there purposely. You will be disqualified. And the prize…”
All the girls swooned, I peered over at Chastity. I bet you any money she was smitten, with him.
“My hand in marriage, and becoming queen of the vamperic kingdom.” He shouted raising his arms, the whole room jeered.
That was it. Enough. That was enough. I could feel my eyes flickering finding the back of my head, my head lolling backwards. The shadows consumed me, they ate me.
In simple words, I just fainted.
Six Gone Already
Never trust your servant. If you ask them to tell your son that you want him to pick six girls they will tell him that your father wants you to get twelve girls. Unbelievable.
It was a messy job, six obsessive girls. But now they’re gone. Gone. And you know what I mean when I say ‘gone.’
We can’t let any of these loud mouthed kids back into the world knowing vampires exist, now can we?