#29: Deep Cut

Angie has some kind of insane experience that might be real. Or a dream. Or tacos. I have a kitty!

Dear Diary,

When I got back home from the party, I thought I would go upstairs and fall asleep, but I was strangely energetic. Must be an adrenaline rush.

So instead of heading up to my bedroom, I went to the kitchen and got me some coffee. It tasted like sludge. The punch I had at the party probably left an aftertaste.

It was as I was sipping my coffee when I heard Dessy enter. He tried to be quiet, but I still heard him. In a flash, I was at the door, hands on my hips, ready to pounce on him.

Then he did something weird. Instead of apologizing or trying to hold me, he started kissing my neck. Any other time, I would have gladly let him keep going, but he wasn’t getting off of this that easy.

Just as I felt the little prick of his teeth, I pushed him off of me. Or, at least I tried. He struggled, and as I continued to push him away, I saw a flicker in his eye.

A red flicker. Then it was gone.

Perhaps I had just imagined it.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah, as he was drooling over me, obviously trying to avoid kissing me again, I ripped into him.

If he thought he could just come in and start kissing me, he had another thing coming. Why did he abandon me so quickly? Where did he go? What was he doing? He had some explaining to do.

It was at this point that he had me sit down on my bed (since we had moved up to my room shortly after he mauled me), and try to take a breath as he began to talk about his findings.

At first, I didn’t know what to think. He comes barging in, kisses my neck, nearly bites me and then tells me he ran into one of his old girlfriends. What does he take me for? I’m not an idiot!

He did something with her! Otherwise, why would he greet me like he did at the door?! He feels guilty and now he’s trying to cover it up with some nonsense about me being in danger. Yeah, I’m in danger alright. I’m in danger of being someone’s second! I’ll show him!

I start passionately kissing him, trying to get him to forget about his “ex”. So I start sucking on his lower lip, until I see one of his fangs protrude. That’s when I go in for the kill. Sucking on that fang, I purposely prick my lower lip and let the blood fall into his mouth.

Then he begins to change. His kisses get deeper, and soon I can’t breathe because he’s smothering me. Soon, he starts inhaling my lip like a vacuum cleaner.

I knew that girl was out of his mind at this point. I let him continue on for a while, but soon I began to feel lightheaded. As I tried to pull away without tearing my lip in the process, I stared Dessy in the eyes.

A flash of red appeared for a moment and went away. It must’ve been my blood glinting in his eyes.

This is the crazy night I’ve had. I’m going to bed now. Night diary.

Angelica

--Wha?

Drool lathered across my arm, I look over and see nothing. I forgot Dessy had to go home. Stretching, I grab my lavender robe and head for my bathroom. As I go inside, I look into the mirror.

Weird. I don’t remember getting this cut on my lip. Maybe I bit it while I was sleeping.

Turning the hot water on in my bathtub, I turn around and start. For a moment, I thought I saw red eyes in my mirror. How hammered did I get at that party?

It must’ve been some party. I haven’t had such a headache or blackout like this in a long time. Maybe I should’ve taken a little more care. Oh well. It must’ve been fun.

Dipping my big toe into the water, I cautiously test the temperature. Ahh…just right. Every bone in my body aches. I can already feel the water taking the pain away, but I add a little lavender chamomile to aid the process. Slowly, I sink into my bathtub after carefully removing my robe. Immediately, the water soothes the pain. Reality slips away.

--I wake up to the sound of waves."

I’m no longer in New York. I know this for certain. The people on this boat look at me curiously, probably wondering why I’m sleeping on the deck of a boat. I’m wondering the same thing.

Then I look down and almost scream. Someone must have dressed me while I slept, because I know I have never worn anything like this in my life.

This tan kimono-toga had a spray of black dots, cheetah-like. It accented my skinny torso, and gathered in places to make me look like royalty. If this wasn’t the twentieth century, I’d probably love to wear something like this. As it is, it seems like it comes from the medieval period, or maybe just Japan.

Reaching up, I realize my hair must be up in a really strange hairdo. I feel like my head is a big ice cream cone. Trying to find the hair tie or clips, I finger my hair, only to realize I now have a perm.

EEEEEEEEEEeeeeeee!!!!!! Someone destroyed my beautiful hair! My long, golden hair has turned into a curly rat's nest! Someone’s going to die.

“Hhhuu! Dessy! Oh Dessy, where are we? How did we get here? Who did this to me?”

Slowly, he turns around and I know immediately it’s not him. At least, not mentally.

Those blood-red eyes remind me of something, but I can’t quite place it. Whoever this is, he is not my Dessy. Not anywhere close.

As if reading my mind, a demonic voice answers, “You catch on quick, my deer. No, I am not Desmond Grover Marquis. You may call me Vlad Tepes, as most people seem to panic when I give them my true name. I hope you enjoy your stay on The Bloody Mary until we arrive to shore. We will talk more once you regain your strength. For now, go to your room and do what’s necessary to get ready for dinner. Also, I hope you like your meat rare as that is the only kind of meat eaten on this ship.”

Where have I heard that accent before? Is it Russian?

Quickly forgetting about it, I go to the room Mr. Tepes assigns me and ransack the place until I find what I’m looking for: a pen.

Don’t laugh at me! I could stab someone with it (someone being any of these other vampires that I now realize surround me on this boat), or I could use it to cut myself if need be.

This is the only plan I have for rescuing Desmond. He obviously needs blood to keep his strength, so when Mr. Tepes isn’t looking, I’ll stab myself with the pen, and Dessy will come to my rescue when he realizes I need him to suck out the ink poisoning.

It’s a win-win situation. He gets blood, I get Dessy.

Author's Note

By Tory.