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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 a really twisted version of things that do go on this world and I try to incorporate a lot of maturity and importance as well as comedy and action. I realised people are taken from their normal lives and are forced into situations where they feel as if they do only have two choices and in their case neither sound endearing, I just really wanted to spread the this message. Please post this everywhere, this can help you anytime... "When there are only two clear options available to you, make a third..."
Walk of shame. That’s what they called it, right? I certainly felt shamed. I wrapped my parker coat as tightly as possible around my frozen body; the thin and crisp material barely reaching my knees, only hanging just below my dress. I had been out all night. I’m Grace and I’d spent the night out with my best friend Chastity. Who found it in her to leave me here in my short clothing and smudged make-up drowned in drink and shame. I was taking my walk of shame at six o clock in the morning.
This was London, so even because of the peculiar time people were still up and about - and staring. They stared at me. They had all seen it before, the drunken teenager, the blonde with the short dress. But still they stared.
So, now there was a brunette with bright blue eyes in an extremely provocative dress wandering around London at night. Morning. Whatever. Grace Hammond you damn idiot.
I thought of home. Home. Just the very thought of it comforted my mind. I imagined crackling fires and roast dinners. I can remember the rain gently tapping and rolling down the window as I sat and watched TV with my border collie Lexi. I’d be home alone, I usually was. Father worked for the government, busy was an understatement. To say he lived in his office would be more adequate. We don’t talk about mother, ever. Father doesn’t want to. I don’t want to. There was no argument in that case. I try not to think of her. Would you think of your mother if she was killed, and killed was being delicate? Indelicate? She was murdered.
Then once again the thoughts of home swarmed my mind. I felt warm. Then reality hit me, home was three long and cold miles away. And once again, I felt very cold.
I sat down on a wooden bench.
In Memory of Elizabeth Benjamin
1956 – 2004
Death is just so intimidating isn’t it? I kicked of my heels, the heavy shoes landing about a meter away, and curled my feet around. I just needed to stop, just for one moment. I don’t know why. I wasn’t tired, I was just cold. And I only wanted to sit down for a short while.
It was quiet now. Eerie. In a sinister way. The last people that wandered this barren street had just dipped round a corner. Now I was alone. I was just scaring myself . I know that. Imagining the dark figures that meandered throughout London. The psychos and criminals. Sudden thoughts of the notorious jack the ripper filled my mind and I couldn’t help but let out a small whimper.
“That’s it!” I screeched. Making a lot more noise than I hoped so. A part of me, a stupid part of me hoping this was a way of scaring of the monsters. I bent down, my pale fingers reaching out towards my shoes. My bare feet on the dirty concrete ground, sending shivers up my spine.
Something moved. I swear something moved. It was a blur, a shadow? Just a trick of the light? It – was? Wasn’t it? That’s when I knew I should have run at that point. I knew I needed to run. But I didn’t. I stayed still, bent over, my hands just touching my shoes. Oh hell I should have run.
An Interesting Encounter,
Girly. That’s my name for her. I found her today, wandering around, chilled to the bone. A most amusing find, I must say so myself. And rather rewarding. I think she’ll be fun. Don’t you? She is rather selcouth, and rather beautiful. In an odd way. She must be the twelfth competitor, she must. And I will make her mine.
I already have all the others and the challenge is ready to be put into place. I think it is all going rather smoothly. She hates me. I know that.
But life is life, and life isn’t fair. I know that.
Frozen in fear and frozen in bitter cold.
I’m not having a great night. Morning. Same thing. Slowly I raised my head to where he stood. He was – my age, maybe older. I’m thinking twenty one. And he was devastatingly handsome. Pushing the annoying yet obvious thoughts out of my head I focused on describing him. He had eyes like two emeralds polished and glimmering, his cheekbones were somewhat prominent and his hair was a dirty blonde falling messily round his head.
Gathering all the courage and spirit I could muster I stood up. “Can I help you?” I asked confidently but politely.
He completely ignored my question. A large smile spread across his face curving to his right, tilted. He was wearing jeans and a hoody. Not that what he was wearing really mattered, just that he was dressed like he was from a gang or something. Which I found somewhat worrying.
“What are you doing out here girly?” He asked, sounding concerned. I could bet a million pounds he wasn’t concerned on the inside.
“My name isn’t girly, it’s Grace.” I crossed my arms and pouted. I felt blonde on the inside.
“Mine’s Kaspar.” His grin looked like it could swallow his face.
“Well, Kaspar.” I sighed, agitated. “Could you move out of the way?” I said sternly.
He didn’t waver, he didn’t move just one bit. And his smile couldn’t get any wider then it was at this point.
“Please?” I tried; it came out a bit desperate that time.
“I’m sorry girly but…” He took a step forwards cornering me against the bench, my thighs touching the cold wood.
“No… STOP!” I screamed as loud I could, grabbing the heel next to Kaspar’s foot and holding it up menacingly, as much as I could make it look so. The actual pointy heel aiming at the man’s face.
“Feisty. Nice.” He said. Taking another step towards me. I had no choice but to sit on the bench at this point, he looked scary. Towering above me like that.
He leaned forwards so his hands were on the bench, on either side of me; and his face was but a breath away from mine.
No way in hell I was going to let him get me. I brought my knee up catching him in the groin. I brought my other foot up, placing it on the bench and pushed giving me enough momentum to stumble over the seat. I dropped the heel, my only weapon. My only weapon apart from my own fists and kicks. I’m hoping that ingenuity and strategy also comes into play from my part, but maybe I’m just going a bit overboard now.
I fell to the ground, my thoughts cracked and shattered from my mind. Who am I kidding? I really am defenceless. I scampered upwards, cutting my hands and legs on the rough ground. I could hear him coming after me.
A hand, that most certainly wasn’t mine, clamped around my mouth. Another wrapped around my waist dragging me backwards and hoisting me up.
I struggled for my life. I screamed, it just came out as a muffle. I kicked and trashed, but he pulled me closer to him, the hand around my waist just held me even tighter. I was finding it increasingly hard to breathe.
And what after this night, I was never to breathe again? And why did it just have to be me?
“Now listen here girly, I need you. I’m not going to tell you at the moment but I will tell you. So you just need to shut up…”
“Just let me go!” I screamed, yet due to the hand round my mouth it turned into more of a ‘Juv wet me fo!’
“Sorry, I didn’t catch that girly, come again?” He teased me. He was teasing me. I am not happy.
I screamed and yelled with all my might. This wasn’t much at this point. But I just screamed and yelled. I would not let him get to me.
“I thought you might say that, but I’m very sorry. I just can’t. In fact I think you might rather like it where you’re going.”
“Juv wet me fo!” I shouted continuously.
“I’ll let you go, eventually.” He whispered, his warm breath tracing across her neck. With that he hauled me over his shoulder. I thrashed at his back, so so desperately. “Maybe.”
I felt myself dip and I felt myself fall. I screamed, again. All of a sudden I wasn’t feeling very brave anymore. He pretended to drop me. This is war.
I must say, she did put up a fight. She is a very funny girl. She looks about nineteen, maybe even twenty, I can’t be sure.
We do miss you, a lot. It feels different. You were always there to keep me and father grounded. And now you’re not here. Everything feels a lot more manic.
This whole celebration and event is so time consuming. Father has no idea what he’s doing. Yet I am absolutely sure it will go to plan. It has done for centuries.
There is simply nothing that could go wrong.
If you asked me what my favourite car in the world would be. It would be a Bentley. And I could settle with any type. So here I am sitting in a Bentley with a chauffeur sat next to my kidnapper.
I had crossed my legs and propped myself up on my elbows. My seatbelt wasn’t being worn and neither was his. The only reason I sat like this was because I enjoyed watching writher around squished.
If I was going to die I want to at the very least annoy him, and at the most throttle him.
The silence was murdering me. I felt – scared. And in a weird way nervous. I imagined when people say they have butterflies in their stomachs and I feel as if I have birds. Savage and attacking every part of me.
I couldn’t help but clutch on to my stomach, imagining them in there. I felt sick. And almost as if he read my mind…
“Feeling a bit dizzy?” He asked sweetly.
“Sick actually.” I said colouring my words with venom and showering it in disgust.
“Do you not like car rides?” He said. Oh, that psychopath. Now the least I can do is strangle him.
“No actually, it’s you” I spat.
He laughed, amused. Chuckled.
“Are you laughing?” I snarled. Actually snarled.
“Why are you joking?” He sniggered.
“Am I joking? No I am not! You have just ripped me away from my father, snatched me from London! And you think I am joking? I am damn well serious! So don’t you dare play with me because I’m serious?”
He just looked straight ahead. His face showed no expression whatsoever. “So am I.” He replied finally.
His profile was pale, unnaturally pale. His eyes were dull. Glassy but somehow – empty? I don’t know. I’m not sure.
“I think you have some explaining to do.” I demanded. It was the least he could do.
He turned round. And I managed to look closer this time; it was brighter and easier to see. Has he got – fangs? You can’t be serious. He was like one of those brooding gothic figures. The ones straight out of books and fairy tales. Except I think he is a nightmare.
I am now officially deeming myself as crazy. I quickly looked away. It’s just my mind making things up to cope, that’s what we learnt in psychology. More or less.
“Well.” I pressed as curtly as I could.
“I’m vampire.” He said.
How do I respond to that? I laugh hysterically. I laugh as much as I ever have done. I know at least one of us is crazy and I’m guessing it’s him; he was after all a kidnapper.
“I told you I’m serious.” He said with a bemused look on his face.
“Oh yeah and I told you I’m the queen.”
“You might be.” He said no emotion in his tone. No empathy.
“I’m sorry?” I blurted out. He really is mental.
“You’ll see when you get there.”
“YOU KNOW WHAT?!”
He sighed, his thumb rubbing circles on his temple, he looked stressed, but not half as stressed as I did. “What?”
“I DON’T WANT TO KNOW! I JUST WANT YOU TO TAKE ME BACK HOME…” I pleaded with him.
“No can do…”
“We are here your highness.” Our conversation was cut off by the driver saying …
Whoa. Your highness? I glared at him, I glared daggers at him. If looks could kill he’d be dead before he even hit the ground. I want an explanation and I want one NOW.
I think he got the message.
“You’ll see, Girly, just wait.” He got out and offered me his hand. Maybe not.
“No way, dude no way.” I stepped out of the car. Wait let me rephrase that. I fell out of the car, managing to look like an idiot to the man who just offered me help getting out of the car.
Once again he offered me his hand. Nope, I will never…
The most embarrassing moment of my life, where in the process of climbing up, I slipped again.
His hand was still there, and I could take it. Either way I was probably going to lose a piece of my pride. I took his hand. I am forever going to regret that I can say that now.
“OMG. OMG. OMG!” I muttered, to no one in particular.
“Like it?” He said gesturing to the house. No, not house. No, manor. No, not even that. It was a mansion. Ivy and roses grew up the aged and dirty walls. It even had a moat. Does that mean it’s a castle then? It was amazing, at a guess I’m guessing it has five floors, but I’m not that sure.
“Anything more constructive to add?” He smirked. Oh, he thought he was amazing.
“OMG,” I said flicking my hair like a model. I thought it would be so much bigger!” I put my head my hand on my left hip and leaned on my right leg.
“Gracy!” She squealed. I could recognise that anywhere…
“Chastity!” I screamed, we both hugged each other till we squeezed the life out of each other. Then we held hands and started jumping round and round in circles. Chastity was the sort of typical cheerleader. But not a cheerleader and without the attitude.
“OMG, Gracy you look awful. Like you’ve been dragged through a bush, head first!” Maybe a bit of attitude. But whatever she did she still looked immaculate.
Someone, *cough* *cough* Kaspar *cough* *cough*, cleared there throat behind us. “Ladies. Shall we?”
A Small World,
Girly and Chastity knew each other. Small world huh? It always amuses me. Human behaviour. They all care so much. And are so ignorant. But then it is a blessing.
It’s going to take something to convince Girly about the truth.
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 back. I knew it was him. His cold hand, his cold touch. I was shivering. In repulsion. Then his breath on my neck. “Just play along, girly.”
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?
Voices. I could hear voices. But all I could see darkness. I let it envelope me, and I listened to the voices.
“What a great start to the competition…”
“Marriage…” “Vampires, Girly, Vampires…”
“Queen of the vamperic kingdom…”
“You get picked.”
“You’ll see, Girly, just wait.”
“Ms Hammond.” Rebecca.
The voices were gone. And there was light. I still had the dress on, but the corset wasn’t tightened. I lay on the bed, but the covers weren’t around me.
“You must get up miss.” Rebecca yanked me up.
“Can’t I rest? I might even be better if you take me home?” I muttered and I mumbled more things. Things that just didn’t register in my head.
“Miss, you must find the clues.”
“What why? I want to go home, I want to lose. I don’t want…” What was this? What are they playing at? Why was this happening? “… This.”
“No, it is the only life you can have now.”
“What do you mean? I want to be sent home?” I whispered, I felt dizzy and delirious. It was a rather nice feeling away from all the stress.
“Darling,” She came forwards and took my hand. She cared, in that moment I knew she cared. She looked at me sympathetically. “You don’t get sent home.”
“I don’t…” I shuddered. I knew what she was going to say, but I needed her to say it. Just say it. Please say it.
“The best you can hope for, if you lose, is a life like mine. The worst…” Her lower lip warbled, and the tears brimmed her eyes. I couldn’t cry. I knew I should. Why can’t I? I can’t. I know it’s because I can’t cry here.
“I can’t say it, but you know… what I mean…” She sniffled.
She grabbed a small wooden box and placed it in my hands, taking my hands and curling them around the box. “This is the first clue.” She kissed my forehead. “Win, don’t die.”
The box slipped open between my trembling hands. A heart shaped pendant draped between my fingers. I had to open, I knew I had.
I threw it across the room; it smashed against the wall and opened. It was quick and I managed to get some anger out. I scurried over to where the piece of paper lay. I picked it up in clammy hands and read it.
The man who makes it doesn't want it.
The man who wants it doesn't use it.
The man who's using it doesn't know he is using it.
What is it? Find me.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
I felt Rebecca’s hand on my shoulder and her confused look on my face. “I’ve read this a million times, it’s a coffin.”
“I’m sorry?” Rebecca stuttered.
I continued throughout sniffles of laughter, out of all the things? Wow these vampires really do doubt our intelligence these days.
“Coffin maker doesn’t want the coffin, man who wants it is usually not the person who’s gonna use it (relatives etc.), a dead person using it won't know he is using it!” I exclaimed. “Do you know where we can find a coffin?”
“Well, why didn’t you know?” Rebecca grasped my shoulders.
“Vampires sleep in coffins!” She laughed.
“No,” She turned deadly serious.
I let out a small ‘oh’. Nobody heard, not even me. In which case I began to doubt I even said it. This is a dream. I’m sure of it now. “It’s a dream!” I chuckled happily. I jumped on the bed and tried to go to sleep.
Rebecca sighed and hauled me out of bed. Her black frayed ends caressing my face. “Come on, everyone else has a head start we need to…”
There was a toll like noise, maybe a bell, sounding through the house. Followed by someone on a loud speaker.
“Contestants Lady Katrina, Ms Angelique and Ms Sawyer are out of the competition. But the women that are through are Ms O’Neill…” Phew. Chastity is safe. “And Ms Elizabeth …”
Then it sunk in. It came at me like daggers spindling, slicing through my body. I had been shot down, and trampled on. I died right there and came back as a ghost. My mind and body was on fire, I reeled, and I felt so dizzy. I am ready to be taken right here right now. Take me.
I dropped to my knees.
I was competing against my best friend for a love I don’t even want. No…
We were fighting for our lives.
“We have also made an exception for Ms Hammond…”
I allowed myself to slip in and out of the speech. Do I win or lose? Die or live unhappily? I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want the breath to be knocked out from my lungs. I don’t want the light to flicker and slip away from my eyes and I don’t want to die unkissed and seemingly unloved. I want to live, and I want to be in love.
“The first to find the second clue will spend the night with me, Kaspar. And don’t purposely try to lose girly, I think you know why.”
I don’t know.
I won’t know until I found the second clue first and talk to him