The Story Of Sarelle (Twilight)

Chapter 48

It was dark. I hated the dark. It may have been a fairly irrational fear, considering my knowledge of the creatures that lurked in the darkness, but nonetheless it chilled my bones.

I reached my hands out in front of me and found them scrabbling on a dry wooden surface. A door? The scent of pine and oak drifted around through hot, stuffy atmosphere. I tried to turn, or shuffled back, but all I felt was another boxed in side. Wherever I had arrived to it was a small dark space, and I thought I could feel pieces of fabric-clothing-hanging around me. An image of Narnia slipped into my mind but it did little to quell the fear.

As the tingle's buzz cleared from my ears I felt my body turn rigid. Screams, crying, bloodcurdling shouts, growls, screeching metal as if it were being torn. They were all that filled the air. My breathing accelerated as the sounds stopped and started until they fell into silence, only the faint crackling of flames took their place.

My hands traced the wooden door in front of me, searching for a handle, but there was nothing. Just the rough surface which threatened to impale my fingertips with splinters.

Smoke drifted up through the cracks in the door and I whimpered as images of roaring flames filled my mind. I could think of no worse way to die than to be burnt alive. I coughed as the sweet, acrid fumes filled my lungs. It didn't smell like the usual kind. There was no woodsy scent, just the smell of thick incense. It was too sweet, too thick, too heavy.

My coughing spluttered as I tried to kick the door open. I'd rather run through fire than choke on this sweet smoke. I could already feel my head swirling with the strength of it.

And then, in flash, the door was gone and in the space where it had been stood a dainty figure of darkness, the fire dancing outside the house it and I stood in. I could see it flickering off its long black cloak, licks of orange and red cutting through the thick violet smoke.

"Well what do we have here?" The figure spoke, and the words were so sweet, so feminine, so deadly, that there was no way it could be anything other than a female vampire.

Her hand shot out, stark white in the dusky darkness, to wrap around my wrist. The strength she used to yank me forward very nearly broke my bones, nearly but not quite. Instead I could feel them bruising and bending in her iron grip.

"Master, we have a live one," she drawled as she turned slightly to the open doorway of the house. Her eyes caught the light, and it seemed like they glowed, a bloody, violent red set in her marble, cherubic face.

No sooner had her words been spoke than another figure appeared before us. He was tall and lean with black hair that seemed to blend with the ebony of his robe. My heart was hammering against my chest as I looked up into his filmy red eyes. They seemed to sparkle as he looked at me, curiosity almost burning away the misty layer over the irises.

"She's so...vital," the girl murmured as she raked her eyes over my body, pausing to stare hungrily at my neck. I knew my heartbeat would be like a calling drum to them, each beat creating a rhythm for their monster to dance to.

"Jane, watch over the clean up, please. Felix is still a little overzealous with his duties." The man ordered in a persuasive voice. Persuasive and yet it held no room for refusal. His hand touched Jane's where she held me, lightly telling her to let go.

Jane removed her hand with an awkwardly movement before leaving the room in an instant. I was used to vampire speed, but that was with the Cullens, and Aslo. These vampires had no humanity left in them so somehow their speed all the faster.

I tore my eyes away from the door through which Jane left, to the man standing in front of me. He was still observing me, although unlike Jane he had yet to hold me against my will. He just watched with those peculiar eyes. Although my heart was pounding against my chest, and my palms felt clammy, I was determined not to show fear so my face was set like stone.