Justice Morel always had her life perfectly planned. Her goals were to graduate from the University with exceptional grades and get into the best law school Canada has to offer.
Then one day, Justice tried to kill herself. Well, not her technically. It may have been Justice Morel’s body, but those actions weren’t intentional and the suicidal thoughts were not hers. Or, so she keeps telling her therapist and family.
Justice is afraid she’s losing her mind and just wants to forget everything. But when her best friend is murdered, another one is being mind-screwed by a Vampyre, and her ex is back in town, looking as scrumptious as ever and very suspicious, maybe she isn’t all that crazy!
Just when she thinks that life couldn’t throw her anymore curve balls, Justice figures out that she is Vampyre Doll and there’s a vampyre who seems very familiar to her, but she can’t figure out from where.
Justice is suffocating and drowning in a dark world she’s been tossed into, forced to survive. It’s a world she never wanted to know about and would love to ignore, like it doesn’t exist. But, with every passing day, she’s pulled deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole, wishing for everything to go back to the way it was.
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Awakening hot, sweaty and trembling, I sat up erect, utterly distracted by my surroundings, and engrossed with feeling antsy for no particular reason. There was a giddiness building inside of me but yet a darkness loitering.
My fingers mauled over the dewy, bleak cement beneath them and, gaping in confusion, I stared off into the rouge lit darkness to find a dozen thick rusting iron bars standing in front of me, as if condemning me to this small confinement.
Behind me, I knew there were iron shackles built into the stone wall to hold prisoners. To the left and right of where I sat was another set of stone barriers growing muck that I could not see but the musty, tangy odour has not gone unnoticed. I sneezed, realizing that I could sensibly taste the fungus growing and that was new to me; but there was also another scent, so heavenly and sapid that I wanted to bathe myself in the fragrance.
Peering off into the opening, beyond the iron doors was where the rouge lighting was coming from, an opening from high up in the ceiling to allow some light in for the captives and/or a torturing device—however you want to look at it.
These dingy cells had no windows but the red glow outside reminded me of blood, mostly because of the essence that enraptured my physical, and for a short while I entertained my exhilarated self with the thought that the red glow was a pool of blood. How delightful that would be.
Nevertheless, rouge lighting? Isn’t that quaint? I wondered, feeling my hair rising on my nape, arms, legs, everywhere in which hair resides pulsing through vivacity, so intense and pure, my fingers curled into fists giving it no outlet.
My vision began to darken; I felt myself slipping and I stood up hastily which made it worse because I fell right into the hands of wooziness, stumbling into the sleety iron bars, cursing.
The cursing was followed promptly by bitter laughter as I mulled over my own situation, grasping the irony of where I was and knowing that I was most likely being punished because of her. My thoughts lingered on her swarthy pale brown face, her soft, supple lips and defiant dark brown eyes.
Zachariah will kill her for sure for my one slip, my one weakness, and gripping the bars tightly I laughed aloud with lucidity clinging to my harmony… And that’s when I heard her—Amelia.
“Who’s there?” her voice so shaken and quiet. I felt the need to go to her, and figure out why she sounded so distressed. However the main question at hand was why is Amelia down here?
Slowly, against the implacable force of zeal pulsing through every vein, muscle and artery, the essence of what works in-sync to keep a being like me going was all elevated and the ethereal smell still idled. My fangs extended then, automatically, like her voice were a fang charmer, and I followed impulsively, thinking about blood.
Blood, blood and more blood. I thought of biting Amelia, monstrously, tearing through her flesh and veins, reaping blood. All that was running through my mind was the red substance, it was taking over and, for the first time in a long time, I was scared.
Amelia repeated her question as I walked past the iron bars, narrowing my sudden burst of hunger on her gaunt face, under the red moonlight from above. Amelia’s curly hair swallowed her petite face as she took a step back; her dress wrapped around her legs sparingly, moving closer to the shade of obscurity.
“Dante…” Amelia said my name, quivering as her brown eyes studied who was before her in fear and confusion. Her thoughts tried to make sense of the monster before her and questions populated her mind.
Amelia’s heartbeats increased, breaths shortened and her eyes widened with definite fear as her brows pulled tightly together; she shook her head nimbly. She whispered, “So the rumours are true…” Her scent engulfed me like a tornado and I knew I didn’t want the darkness to take over, so I fought and another flash of dizziness came at me, my vision blurring, and I knew it wanted Amelia.
About the Author:
I’m just a stay at home mother, who has finally found the courage to share her crazy paranormal universe with the world. I enjoy reading, obviously writing. Proud Canadian. Inspirational quotes keeps me positive. I’m an amateur photographer. Movie holic. Lactose intolerant but loves cheese pizza. Vampires and things of a sort I adore. Shopping is my therapy and I’m an Aries.
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