between his ribs, into his organs.
Blood flowed down his chest, his neck, dripped onto her face. She didn’t feel it. Instinct. Survival.
Then his body collapsed on top of her. She crawled out from under him. It wasn’t difficult. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, currents of pure energy urging her on.
Naked, she went to the other side of his bedroom and opened the door to his wardrobe. Mechanically and efficiently, she pulled on a dress that was hanging between hundreds of suits. Finally clothed again, she went out into the hallway.
She heard his screams.
She ran back down the hallway. There were chandeliers all the way along it. Decadent. Beautiful. She climbed up the stairway. She heard giggling to her left.
She opened the door and found herself in a dining room. What did a vampire need a dining room for? The door to the kitchen was slightly ajar and she pushed it further open. In the kitchen there were two men and a woman. They were all naked. They were giggling amongst themselves, they didn’t notice her. She hurried past them, through the kitchen door at the back. She was outside.
Elizabeth’s bare feet touched the snow, but she couldn’t feel the cold anymore. She climbed up the stairs and found herself in a garden on a perfectly maintained, ice-covered lawn. Then she began to run.
Her breathing hadn’t sped up by the time she came to the end of the street. The hem of her dress was completely drenched, it wasn’t zipped up properly at the back either. She knew a sharp coldness was creeping down her back, but she couldn’t feel it.
Her feet automatically kept going. She ran and ran until she could see the docks up ahead. She didn’t know why she had run this way. No-one would help her there. She only knew she had to get away. Far away. Leave the country.
In Ireland there was famine, even she had heard of it. She would go to America, the promised land. Surely he would not follow her there.
She had to get to the docks to secure her passage. But where would she get the money for it, where?
Elizabeth stood in the middle of the street as her brain whirred. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She looked at them in confusion. There was blood on her fingers. She could taste it on her lips. Where was she? She remembered escaping. Running. How long ago had that been? She was breathing so quietly. As though she’d just been on a casual stroll. Her feet didn’t even hurt, even though she was standing barefoot in the snow. She was wearing a beautiful dress. It was blue, deep blue. Like the ones she’d seen ladies wearing in the papers at galas and parties.
She loved this dress.
Her fingers grasped the fabric and she swung its skirts back and forwards. Her hips automatically joined in. Swing, swing. Swing, swing.
Look how they swing! She wanted to laugh, but knew better and kept her mouth shut. A man was coming around the corner, he stumbled and put his hand up against the wall for support. Turned to it. Began to vomit.
Swing, swing.
Look, look! Look how beautiful it is!
YOU’RE GOING INSANE, someone said.
She turned towards the voice. No-one was there. She turned back. She was alone. Her skirts were still swinging.
Look!
GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF!
“I don’t want to!” she replied.
GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF NOW!
Yes, get ahold of yourself Elizabeth, she suddenly ordered herself. Everything was fine. You just have to escape. You can go crazy in America. You can let it all out there. But first you have to escape. Think, you need money. Where can you get money quickly? A journey like this costs a lot.
The retching man suddenly turned from the wall towards her and looked at her in astonishment.
“Hey, whore! You want to earn a few pennies?”
“Yes,” she answered with no hesitation at all and walked towards him.
“Do you have a room?”
Did she have a room? Elizabeth searched for an answer. “No, my … friend is using it at the moment.”
The drunk
Blood flowed down his chest, his neck, dripped onto her face. She didn’t feel it. Instinct. Survival.
Then his body collapsed on top of her. She crawled out from under him. It wasn’t difficult. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, currents of pure energy urging her on.
Naked, she went to the other side of his bedroom and opened the door to his wardrobe. Mechanically and efficiently, she pulled on a dress that was hanging between hundreds of suits. Finally clothed again, she went out into the hallway.
She heard his screams.
She ran back down the hallway. There were chandeliers all the way along it. Decadent. Beautiful. She climbed up the stairway. She heard giggling to her left.
She opened the door and found herself in a dining room. What did a vampire need a dining room for? The door to the kitchen was slightly ajar and she pushed it further open. In the kitchen there were two men and a woman. They were all naked. They were giggling amongst themselves, they didn’t notice her. She hurried past them, through the kitchen door at the back. She was outside.
Elizabeth’s bare feet touched the snow, but she couldn’t feel the cold anymore. She climbed up the stairs and found herself in a garden on a perfectly maintained, ice-covered lawn. Then she began to run.
Her breathing hadn’t sped up by the time she came to the end of the street. The hem of her dress was completely drenched, it wasn’t zipped up properly at the back either. She knew a sharp coldness was creeping down her back, but she couldn’t feel it.
Her feet automatically kept going. She ran and ran until she could see the docks up ahead. She didn’t know why she had run this way. No-one would help her there. She only knew she had to get away. Far away. Leave the country.
In Ireland there was famine, even she had heard of it. She would go to America, the promised land. Surely he would not follow her there.
She had to get to the docks to secure her passage. But where would she get the money for it, where?
Elizabeth stood in the middle of the street as her brain whirred. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably. She looked at them in confusion. There was blood on her fingers. She could taste it on her lips. Where was she? She remembered escaping. Running. How long ago had that been? She was breathing so quietly. As though she’d just been on a casual stroll. Her feet didn’t even hurt, even though she was standing barefoot in the snow. She was wearing a beautiful dress. It was blue, deep blue. Like the ones she’d seen ladies wearing in the papers at galas and parties.
She loved this dress.
Her fingers grasped the fabric and she swung its skirts back and forwards. Her hips automatically joined in. Swing, swing. Swing, swing.
Look how they swing! She wanted to laugh, but knew better and kept her mouth shut. A man was coming around the corner, he stumbled and put his hand up against the wall for support. Turned to it. Began to vomit.
Swing, swing.
Look, look! Look how beautiful it is!
YOU’RE GOING INSANE, someone said.
She turned towards the voice. No-one was there. She turned back. She was alone. Her skirts were still swinging.
Look!
GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF!
“I don’t want to!” she replied.
GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF NOW!
Yes, get ahold of yourself Elizabeth, she suddenly ordered herself. Everything was fine. You just have to escape. You can go crazy in America. You can let it all out there. But first you have to escape. Think, you need money. Where can you get money quickly? A journey like this costs a lot.
The retching man suddenly turned from the wall towards her and looked at her in astonishment.
“Hey, whore! You want to earn a few pennies?”
“Yes,” she answered with no hesitation at all and walked towards him.
“Do you have a room?”
Did she have a room? Elizabeth searched for an answer. “No, my … friend is using it at the moment.”
The drunk
Similar Books
Thanks for Giving
Jillian Chantal
Shakin' It For Daddy (The Panty Droppers)
Tigra-Luna LeMar
The Passage
Justin Cronin
Beijing Bastard
Val Wang
The Vanished
Sarah Dalton
A Pocket Full of Rye
Agatha Christie
The Dragon and the George
Gordon R. Dickson
Chiaroscuro
Jenna Jones