A Parallel Journey

[Evangeline Carter]

“Good.” And then, in a manner most abrupt, the vampiress was gone, the massive door shuddering closed behind her. The sound of ancient iron slamming home penetrated the room as Jasmine jammed the bolt into a locked position.

And then, MariAnne was desolately alone.

The room was tiny, with nothing at all remarkable to tell. The walls bore the appearance of having been scrubbed and scoured and white-washed many times in their long, long existence. They were cement. Could and smothering sound from within and without. The floor was cement, solid in all directions except for the fist-sized drain which had been fitted into a pocket at the very center of the cell, likely to make the process of purging more convenient.

The door showed its age with less grace than the stony ribs of her enclosure. It was wooden, and thicker than a barbarian’s skin. The panels had been stained with some red, oily substance. Something to prolong the disease of time. There was a greasy look to it. A coarse, tormented story of the lives from before. If she looked long enough, MariAnne might have found the treads that the nails of previous, desperate hands had dug. Near the average eye-level on the door was a slit -- an inch tall, three wide, roughly, which pierced all the way through the heavy barrier.

Why? had been the question of so many before. They had soon discovered, though, the necessity of a means for communication when one is trapped in a room with no toilet -- no bucket, even. The slit there was the only tie to a place outside of each individual hell.

[Kale Allerion]

Relieved at Jasmine's exit, MariAnne collapsed once again on her little cot and sighed.

At last she was alone.

Alone?

It wasn't long before the reality of her situation began to sink in. Her relief was almost instantly replaced with panic as she realized she was a prisoner. She was no powerful vampire slayer. No independent fighter with a black belt. She was a helpless prisoner, waiting for her bloodthirsty destiny to come through that thick, bolted door and take her for his own.

MariAnne shot up out of bed as if awakening from a horrible nightmare. Her breathing was rapid and shallow as she stared at the impenetrable door that sealed her fate. If she could have broken it down and left the slavers' hell behind, she would have without hesitation.

And Issie would have, too. The thought came uninvited and brought on a fresh flow of tears.

MariAnne lay on her side, back towards the door, and cried herself to sleep.

_____________


Simon was losing his nerve.

He was so close, yet now he was losing his nerve!

Only a few yards away from the door to the girl's cell and now he began to question his own judgment. Sure, the smell of the girl's blood was mouthwatering, but was it really worth risking his life?

There was no doubt in Simon's mind that Bruce would kill him if he found him tasting the merchandise. He couldn't simply fire him, unless he wanted to risk Simon telling the wrong person about the blood trade.

Jasmine he wasn't too sure about. The vampiress might not kill Simon - after all, they needed a secretary and record-keeper, and it wasn't terribly easy to find recruits for this type of business. Still...

Simon took a step forward.

Another step.

Then wheeled around and took four steps away from the door.

Still MariAnne's blood beckoned him, the scent stronger and sweeter than any he had ever encountered.

Lust overtook him. Simon's long legs strode toward the heavy, locked door. He slid the bolt into the unlocked position and reached into his pants pocket for the paperclip he'd brought along. Frantic and frenzied, Simon picked at the lock while MariAnne slept, unaware.

[Evangeline Carter]

ooc: Kale, your current quote reminds me of one of my favorite poems;

He drew a circle to keep me out
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout
But love and I found wit to win
We drew a circle that took him in

bic:

David glanced to his watch, swallowing down a mouthful of the burning liquor. 4:30 AM, and he was certain she’d fallen asleep. Either a brave or supremely stupid girl, she must have been. Often two such facets of the human personality coincided in one body. He gave her due credit, though. To be able to sleep in a building full of blood-suckers, with her history, especially, was a feat.

~Maybe I’ll buy Red her first beer, if she gets out of this in one piece.~ He shifted in his seat, the heals of his boots scraping across the dashboard as he adjusted the uncomfortable bend of his spine. No sound from the radio receiver. One thing he had counted on, but had not looked forward to, was boredom of waiting. Something had to happen eventually. A girl with the red-head’s looks didn’t have long to wait, he imagined, before the customers came crawling. Then it would be a matter of escape.

[Kale Allerion]

OOC:

That's an awesome poem!

BIC:

MariAnne slept dreamlessly until the sound of the door handle rattling awakened her. Bewildered and groggy, she rolled onto the side facing the door. The handle shook, as if being yanked up and down forcibly by a force on the other side.

So soon? The girl's heart rate sped up with the grim realization that someone was coming for her already. She lay back onto the mattress, feigning druggedness. Her eyes took on a glassy nature and she let a little drool escape the corner of her lips for good measure.

The seconds ticked by. The door handle continued rattling, but no one entered.

That's bizarre, MariAnne thought. If Jasmine wanted in, wouldn't she have just opened the door like before.

The sound of a male's exasperated grunt assured the captive that this was not Jasmine who wanted in. Through the tiny slit in the door, she could just barely catch a glimpse of white-blond hair.

Simon! MariAnne covered her mouth with both hands to keep from screaming. He must have been picking the lock. Her nails dug into the fabric of the mattress and her entire body trembled until the door finally opened.

She didn't dare look at his face, but she knew he was there. MariAnne was wise not to look at the leering expression on the vampire's face as he strode into her cell.

"Yes..." Simon hissed, taking little steps toward the cot where she lay. "Oh...yesss."

MariAnne looked up, masking her fear with the confused look of a druggie. She silently prayed that Bruce would come through the door and catch Simon before he came any closer.

Simon kneeled at her bedside, stealing a glance over his shoulder before gripping the girl's neck with cold, pale fingers. His nose gently touched her neck as he inhaled, savoring the scent of the young woman's blood.

MariAnne's mind raced. It wouldn't be long before Simon bit her - maybe even a matter of seconds. If she fought back, would it matter if Simon discovered she wasn't really drugged?

Yes. If she harmed the vampire in any way, Bruce and Jasmine would find out.

Simon must have sensed her tension. He chuckled quietly and whispered, "I'm not going to kill you. I just need...one bite."

His frigid lips touched her neck. Panicked, MariAnne rolled off the bed and hit the cement - hard enough that her arm hurt from the impact. The cot rattled and creaked from the action, and Simon stood. The silence had been disturbed. Surely someone would have heard that.

At the sound of footsteps unheard by MariAnne, Simon let out a curse before exiting the room, shutting the door behind him.

MariAnne lay crumpled on the floor, alone again and terrified.

[Evangeline Carter]

David sat up straighter as the sounds of the encounter finally reached his ears. It couldn’t have been a buy. Not yet. Not with so little confidence in the vampire’s voice. He felt the muscles in his abdomen grow tight as he realized what he was listening to. Closed his eyes, knowing he couldn’t have stopped it without wasting what they’d started -- and getting them both killed. He drank again, nervous brushing his hand through his hair and worrying pink blaze.

He couldn’t help himself but envision her where she’d curled up on the cot. He’d played this game time enough to be immune to the oncoming rush of guilt, but he knew he’d remember the image of MariAnne in that place for years to come.

Another drink.

Had Gideon’s last memory been like MariAnne’s? A wall? A lonely cell? Such thoughts were rebellious and damaging, and he was forced to drag down another swig to chase it away.

[Kale Allerion]

I'm going to kill him.

The door to Bruce's room slammed shut behind him once the sounds coming from MariAnne's cell reached the vampire's ultra-sensitive ears. Bruce's footsteps thundered down dark passages and through doorways until he reached the door to Simon's office. Without any prior warning, Bruce shoved the door opened and took a few steps inside.

Much to Bruce's surprise, Simon was sitting right where he belonged - at his desk, on the computer - probably not working, but at this late hour it didn't much matter whether the record-keeper was doing his work or playing "World Of Warcraft". Simon's glassy eyes flickered from the screen for a brief enough moment to acknowledge Bruce's presence, then returned to their original place.

Suspicious, Bruce just stared at Simon for a good full minute, watching his every move - trying to pick up the slightest hint of deceit. Finally, Simon looked up again and asked, "Do you mind? I'm trying to work here."

Convinced that Simon hadn't been causing any trouble, Bruce left the room without a word and started toward the slaves' cells.

Once alone, Simon sighed with supreme relief. He hadn't been caught!

But I didn't get her...

A growl escaped Simon's lips. He was so close! That girl was supposed to have been drugged. It should have been easy to get her blood. There should have been no contest.

"SIMON!"

The lanky vampire jumped at the sound of Bruce's voice. He had been caught! Simon wrung his hands nervously until he heard Bruce call him again.

"SIMON! GET DOWN HERE!"

"Coming!" Simon replied, getting up from his seat and hoping that his own voice didn't betray him.

____________

"She fell out of bed," Bruce informed Simon, helping the girl to her feet. "Her arm's bruised. I need you to heal her."

Simon did not say a word, sure that his voice would betray his guilt, but wordlessly strode through the doorway and toward Bruce and MariAnne. The girl cringed as he approached her.

"See?" Bruce said accusingly. "She doesn't trust you. Ya scared her outta her wits practically as soon as she walked through the door."

"Aw, come on, Bruce." Simon grinned at the girl teasingly. "I was just havin' a little fun, y'know? I play the stereotypical, obsessive vampire so well, which is what all these humans expect of us."

Bruce was not amused. "Just heal her."

Simon took another step toward the girl, who let something like a groan out in protest as she tried to worm away.

The bruise on her arm was dark and purple. Even now, with Bruce breathing down his neck, Simon was tempted to bite her then and there. Instead, he shut his eyes and focused all his attention on the healing.

When he opened his eyes, it looked as if MariAnne had not fallen in the first place. Simon took several steps back away from the temptation. "Satisfactory?" he asked of Bruce, who nodded in response, helping MariAnne to her cot.

________________

Something doesn't add up.

Bruce stood on the porch watching the falling snow. The little flakes flitted about crazily, as confused as the thoughts in Bruce's mind.

It all could have been an accident. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time a slave had fallen out of bed.

But what if Simon had something to do with all this? Sure, he seemed innocent enough, but what if he'd tried to bite her and she'd fought him off.

What if the drugs weren't affecting her?

But would that even matter? he wondered. She's in our hands now.

Bruce walked back into the dark house. He'd have to keep a close eye on both MariAnne and Simon. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he didn't really care.

[Evangeline Carter]

ooc: I'm sorry I'm taking so long on replying. I don't want to jump the gun; there's a lot we could play with this. Would you rather discuss the options here or PMing?

[Kale Allerion]

OOC:
PM'ing would be better. *off to message you*

[Evangeline Carter]

It would be hours of that strained order. David would continue to wait for something worth crying to the king over. The vampires continued to withhold such evidence. The man’s bottle was near empty. It was when his eyes were closing that, a mile away, something began to stir in the vampire household. Something MariAnne’s microphone wouldn’t be sensitive enough to pick up just yet.

Another body. No pulse. Just a pair of those awful black eyes. Jasmine was engrossed in the task of cleaning a pair of restraints when the vampire appeared, standing over her without the vaguest of a whisper.

James.

He was tall, lithe, with russet hair that had been cropped close to his skull. The pale creature stood over her with a curled lip, his fang exposed and nostrils flared. “Fresh meat?”

“Welcome back.” The woman blinked, glancing up to him. “Just in today. She’s a gem.” She went back to the process of the bleach and scrub of the leather restrains. “Did you find anything worth looking at?” The male had been away from the hold for the last month, searching for business. He never missed a beat, though, dropping into a squat beside her.

“Who brought her?”

“Some Brit,” she didn’t look at him. “We checked him out. He’s clean.”

“Right. Where’s the girl?”

“Where do you think?” Had Jasmine ever used a genial tone?

"I won't be ten minutes." And he was gone.

Seconds later, the bolt to the door was giving a good grunt, and he was with her, stony eyes glaring.

[Kale Allerion]

I can't believe he got that close.

MariAnne lay trembling on her cot, facing the door this time, and fully awake. After the incident with Simon, she had neither intention nor desire to sleep again. Her wide eyes stared through the tiny slit in the door, watchful for any hint of the vampire's presence.

Her trembling hands fidgeted with the bracelet David had given her. Again, she wondered at the significance of it. Examining it closely, she noticed the odd shapes of the beads. They were of a very intricate design one rarely saw in jewelry.

It was then that David's previous words echoed in her memory - he'd spoken of a camera. This bracelet was the camera!

Why hadn't she realized it before?

Well, I have had more pressing matters on my mind.

Fascinated by her discovery, MariAnne was almost tempted to whisper a message to David into the bracelet - "Why the heck did you bring me here, you jerk?" - but before she got the chance, the sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. MariAnne reverted to her "drugged person" state just in time. James opened the door and stepped inside.

Oh, no. MariAnne's heart sank when she realized she was probably in the presence of a potential buyer. It still seemed far too soon.