Escape

He hit the floor with a thud and let out another groan. Beneath him was polished wood, laid over in places with Persian carpets. The light above was on dimly, an adjustable switch by the door. He stood shakily and brushed himself off. There was a clean pile of clothes on the foot of the bed and he peeled off his own pajamas in favor of them. He pulled on the clean pants and was just doing up the last button of his shirt when a voice from the corner of the room nearly made his heart stop in surprise.

            ‘I hope they fit all right. I had to guess your size.’ It was the young man with the tattoos. He spoke without looking up over the top of the book he was reading, occupying the chair in the corner.

‘Uh… yeah… They’re fine. Thanks’ He felt his cheeks burning red with embarrassment. How had he not noticed him sitting there?

‘There’s food in the kitchen if you’re hungry.’ He mentioned, still not looking up from his reading. ‘We passed it on the way in, if you remember.’

‘Um… yeah.’ Well this was awkward, Elliot found himself thinking. He opened the door and looked over his shoulder to see him stand and start to follow after him, still fully engrossed in his book.

As they passed back down the hall, he noted that all of the other doors were firmly closed now, and when they arrived, both the kitchen and living room were empty now. In the kitchen, he opened an almost empty fridge to find just a can of baked beans and a loaf of sliced bread.

‘Not much of a choice,’ he commented, half in jest.

            ‘Yeah,’ His companion answered from his new perch on the counter, nose still buried in his novel. ‘We eat out a lot.’

He rummaged around in the mostly empty cabinets until he found a saucepan. He cooked the beans and used the oven to prepare some toast. As he sat eating the meager meal, Elliot watched the young man flipping through his book, turning the pages like clock-work every twenty seconds. ‘Are you actually reading that?’ He asked after a while.

            He looked up for the first time. ‘’Course I am. I’m a fast reader.’

            Elliot fell very quiet though as he saw the radiance of his green eyes. Even with the bright fluorescent lights of the kitchen, they shone like emeralds.

‘Where am I?’ he asked eventually.

‘Somewhere safe. Still in LA.’

‘Helpful.’

            He grinned at his sarcasm. ‘Very.’

            Something in his smile made Elliot flinch. Something about his teeth…

            ‘Where are the others?’ He asked after another hesitant mouthful.

            ‘Asleep. I’m up watching you.’

‘Are you always this uncommunicative?’

‘Yes. Finish eating and you can watch some TV.’

Elliot glowered at him, feeling the burn of being patronized so. When he was done, he placed his dishes in the sink, rinsing them thoroughly before wandering out into the lounge area. He sat on the couch, waiting for his host to finish reading and by the speed he was going it, it wouldn’t be that long. Impatience won however. ‘What am I doing here? Can I go home?’

‘No. You’re living with us now.’

So that was the name of the game.

After several minutes of uninteresting television, he announced that he was thirsty and stood. He expected his watcher to do likewise, but he remained seated. He moved to the kitchen and turned on the faucet, making sure the glass clinked on the counter and leaving the water running before he padded back to the hall. He’d had enough. He wasn’t going to wait around if they wanted to kill him or hold him for ransom. He peeked into the living room. His would be captor seemed to have taken a seat that wasn’t visible from the hall. He ran down the remainder of the hall and grasped the doorknob. He pulled it open and then a hand slammed into the wood, firmly shutting it again.

Where had he come from? Elliot hadn’t even heard a sound before the arm shot past his head.

‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’

Elliot froze and swallowed hard. His eyes followed the arm that went past his face, tracing the jagged, twisting, black tattoos that covered its length, right down to the finger-tips.

He lowered his hand from the doorknob and whispered, ‘Please don’t kill me.’

‘Don’t worry, we won’t.’ He lowered his hand from the door. ‘My name’s Justin—’

Elliot kicked back hard, connecting with Justin’s groin and knocking him over on the ground. He jerked the door open and dashed out into the daylight. He heard him shout out a warning, and then cry out as if in pain, but kept on running.

            Justin cowered back from the doorway, his skin burnt and blistered from the sun. The others members of the house, woken by his scream, found him sheltered in the shaded corner, nursing his skin as it slowly healed.

            Byron looked at him, and then at the open door, daylight pouring through into their hall, cutting off the kitchen and living room. ‘What happened?’ He asked. ‘Did he…?’ he let the question hang in the air, unfinished.

            Justin winced as Alyssa returned from a bathroom further up the hall with a damp cloth and began dabbing his skin gently. Tight-lipped, he hissed, ‘No. He ran. He’s a freaking Daywalker.’

            They stared at the doorway, knowing collectively that they were trapped until nightfall when the sun receded enough to let them reclaim their home.

            Byron frowned and clenched his fists. ‘As soon as the sun goes down, I want him found. Cassandra wanted him kept safe and away from others. She’s not going to be happy about this.’

            He ran on, and as he did, Elliot gave silent thanks to his recently increased exercise regime. A few months ago and he’d never have made it this far, this fast, without running out of breath. Even once he realized no one was giving chase, he continued to run. He wanted as much distance between him and his abductors before they decided to go out looking for him. But without money for a taxi or a bus, he was reduced to pedestrian speed. The only problem was, he had no idea where he was. They’d taken him to a part of the city he’d never ventured into before, and he’d been too busy in the car to see any landmarks they might have passed. As it was, he had no idea now if he was heading back into town, or further away from the city centre and familiar territory.

            The buildings lost their residential feel and became decidedly slum-ish in quality. Gutted out buildings lined the street like half-eaten carcasses and litter overflowed the gutters. He stopped running and slowed to a walk so as not to draw unwanted attention. It was definitely one of the seedier parts of town he’d seen since moving. A likely place to find prostitutes and low-lifes during the night hours.

            He heard a car approaching behind him and ducked into a side street that opened up, just in case it was one of his kidnappers. He slipped down the first alley he encountered, and just in time. The car whizzed past on the main street seconds later. He held his pounding chest, catching his breath, before it occurred to him to look down the passageway he’d entered. There was a high arch at the end that spanned between the two buildings on either side. A deep blue light flooded out from whatever was beyond. Even if it was a whorehouse, maybe there was a phone he could use and address for the establishment. He could call one of his flat-mates and explain why he was where he was after they’d picked him up.

            He looked up as he entered, the corridor made a sharp turn to the left, and overheard where the word ‘Welcome’ had once been stamped, someone had deftly transformed the ‘W’ into an ‘H’ and added an extra ‘l’ with spray-paint. The blue that flooded out of the arch came from a zigzagging line of blue neon lights that lead down the hall. A security camera fixed on him from the corner and he wondered briefly if he might be entering a pimp’s den. He turned the corner finally and collapsed as a weight crashed down on his head and he plummeted into unconsciousness.

            He came to with someone patting his face none-too gently. He lifted his head slowly, the room swimming as he did so. He was sat upright in a chair, arms tied behind him with what felt like heavy rope against his skin. The face in front of him swam in and out of focus and there was a pounding in his skull. He moaned and closed his eyes tightly, opening them again and struggling to focus.

            He tried to croak for water and a metal cup was put to his lips. It wasn’t water, he knew that as it trickled into his mouth, it was thick and warm and tasted like metal. He spluttered at first, trying not to gag on the syrupy stuff, but as it eased into his throat, he felt it glide down to his stomach and then a warmth spread out from there. The cup was taken away and his mouth reached for it, neck straining, begging for the disgusting stuff to be brought back.

            The face was back before him now, peering into his eyes. Young and Indian, perfectly smooth without a mark and slender, but with black eyes that seemed to devour him. His lips curled in a smile, flashing pearly teeth. ‘Wake-y wake-y little fledgling.’

            Elliot swallowed, moving his tongue around his mouth to sweep out the last of the liquid before he tried to speak. ‘Where am I?’

            ‘Trespassing on our turf as it happens.’

            Someone came forwards out of the darkness, and for the first time, Elliot realized he sat in an illuminated ring of light. ‘Is it wise to keep him here?’ The new comer asked. He was older and much broader, chest like a barrel and arms to match. ‘If he’s a Daywalker, won’t his clan come looking for him?’

            The first man reached out to touch Elliot’s cheek with his finger, and instinctively he turned his head sideways so that his lips were near it. He widened his jaw but as his teeth grazed it, the man pulled the digit away. ‘They’d never make a fledgling and then leave him to fend for himself like this. He’s not one of them…’ He chuckled and looked at his hand. ‘You really are brand new to this whole world aren’t you? We probably just gave him his first drink.’

            Elliot shook his head to clear it of the haze that seemed to surround everything and pulled his hands against the rope. What was this? Kidnapped twice in one day? ‘I’m sorry, I got lost. I was just trying to find my way home.’

            The man’s face came in close until he felt his breath on his face. He could almost feel the heat coming off of him, pulsing slowly but steadily. The man smiled sadly at him. ‘You don’t even know what you are, do you?’

            Elliot could hardly hear him though. A steady pounding had filled his ears a gentle sloosh and flow. The lips before him… so full and rich. They looked like velvet. His pushed his neck forwards until their mouths met and as their lips touched he felt a shock run through him. His eyes sprang open and it was as if he was seeing everything from outside his own body. He saw himself bound in the chair and the man before him in a circle of fluorescent light. White lines shot out from beneath them, extending around the room and while most continued through the walls of the building, some ran to the other occupants of the room. He could see them now, almost two dozen. The room was a cluttered mess of sofas and books piled up, carpets and low tables. They were all incredibly athletic, male and female, some slender, some stocky. They were waiting for something, watching what was happening in the circle of light. And then he was back in his body, looking into the black eyes of the man. He realized at some point, his teeth had clamped and punctured the man’s lower lip, drawing out a trickle of blood that flowed like sweet honey into his mouth.

            He broke their kiss and then whispered to Elliot, ‘Welcome to Duat, little vampire.’