The Sanctuary

by Felicia Leibenguth

  I lift her light frame and carry her to my bedroom, laying her on the black silk sheets. Her skin glows brightly against the contrast. She hardly makes a sound as I cover her with the heavy silk comforter. She most likely will not be waking until late tomorrow afternoon, and when she does, I don’t know what to expect…

  Taking precautions at the possibility of escape, I place a padlock on the only hatch that leads to the roof. Other than that, there is no other way out unless she runs the four stories to the ground level. But even those doors are welded shut, with no other way out.

  The benefit of a thick concrete building is its practically sound proof… for humans, anyway. Sounds for me are muffled, but a humans hearing is not as sensitive as mine. They will never hear her screams on the outside.

  Not remembering the last time I showered, I head into the small bathroom just off my bedroom. Vampires do not sweat, nor do we produce body odor, so we don’t need to shower constantly like humans. But we get dirty like anyone else. I strip down, throwing my clothes in the hamper I hardly ever use, and step into the black tiled shower. I lean my hand against the wall and allow the hot water to pummel my muscular back. My muscles may never ache, but a good massage always feels relaxing. Stepping out of the shower, I ruffle my hair with a towel and then wrap it around my waist securely.

  Looking in the mirror, I smooth my short jet-black hair with a comb, then debate if I should shave or not. I shaved last week, and it’s only grown out into a black shadow, nothing more. Deciding against the shave, I look up meeting my grey eyes.

  Chapter 12

  These eyes have captured the soul of many women over the years. Some I slept with, others I’ve killed, some human, some vampires. Vampire women always seem to want a commitment. Few just want a one-night stand, but I found enough to fulfill my sex drive in my younger years. As a vampire, the sex drive is heightened and never truly satisfied when one is young. Over the past hundred years, I’ve found sex to be un-fulfilling and a bore. I do not crave or need it anymore.

  I peer out to the bed to see Alexandria’s body caressed in my sheets and the thought crosses my mind that I may be wrong…

  Shaking away the thought, I head into the bedroom and into my closet, dressing in the same thing I’ve worn for years, a black long sleeve shirt and black jeans. Wearing black has it pros of camouflage in the night, but cons as far as being in public. It draws the human eye and screams danger in their minds. In my case, they would be right.

  Turing around, I stare at the… woman… lying in my bed. I study her for a moment listening to her heart. It sounds stronger than it did several hours ago. She seems to sleep comfortably so I head back into the living room.

  I want to find out more about her so I delve into the brown bag that holds her drawing pad. I find her wallet and look at her driver’s license. Confusion crosses my mind… her car is registered in New York with the inspection sticker past due, her license is from Florida with a completely different address than the car registration. She’s in North Carolina with suitcases of clothes and womanly needs, a gun in the glove box with ample ammunition, scars, and marks across her body, but not on her face or arms… places that would be exposed with regular clothing. She’s alone traveling at night…

  Is she hiding or running from something or someone?

  I’m more confused now than I was a moment ago. Searching through her wallet, I find nothing further, other than noticing she doesn’t have any credit or debit cards. Diving deeper into her bag, I come across charcoal drawing pencils, her drawing pad and a wad of one-hundred-dollar bills and about ten dollars in quarters lying at the bottom in a zippered pocket. So she’s only traveling with cash… She doesn’t seem to want to be traced with cards… I also noticed earlier that she doesn’t have a cell phone or laptop computer like most humans do. This too boggles my already confused mind. Nothing I am finding, is answering any of the questions I’m asking myself. Then I realize I’m actually concerned for her welfare.

  What the hell is going on with me!?

  Frustrated with my confused thoughts, and the unexplainable situation Alexandria is in, I grab the drawing pad hoping to distract myself. I sit on the couch and flip through the pages. Beautiful artwork covers each page. They look as if they’re black and white photos and I am in shock she has such a talent. I too, have an affinity for art, but I enjoy others works more than my own, hence the multiple paintings by some of the best artists in the world hanging on my walls.

  I flip the pages carefully as not to smudge the charcoal pencil artworks. Every page is covered in natural works of art. Trees, flowers, landscapes, wild horses, deer, bear… the list goes on. When I get to the last page, something catches my attention. There is something written on the blank page that has been erased with force, almost tearing the paper…

  When your death, is my first breath… -Quillon

  Chapter 13

  More frustrated than ever, I slam the book shut and put it back in her bag. She has a lot of explaining to do when she awakens…

  I unlock the hatch and head to the roof, in dire need of some fresh air and maybe a meal or two… all this frustration is building up my appetite again. I listen for any humans walking around at the drug rehab and hear none. Guess I’ll have to wait. I peer over at the black car sitting at the edge of the park and decide I need to hide it, or someone will snoop around for the owner. With the windshield busted, and the car covered in mud, it’s a neon sign saying something is wrong.

  In a flash, I’m sitting in the driver’s seat and heading across the open field toward the tree line, but not near the buried bodies. I pull it into the tree line, and head into a densely treed area. It can’t be seen from the road, so this will do for now.

  After throwing some ground shrubs around and on the car, I remove the New York plates and hastily return to the roof of my sanctuary. I lie down on the cement and stare up at the stars. Morning light is breaking through the darkened sky, and the humans will again infest my space.

  I haven’t realized how redundant my life has become over the past twenty years. Get up with the moon, feed; lie on the roof, sleep, and repeat. It didn’t dawn on me until this human… Alexandria stepped over the boundary and sent my mind into a whirlwind of emotions, desires, and confusion.

  I don’t know why I care about her story or why she has so many scars. Why do I care about that note in the back of her drawing pad? It’s gnawing at me. Who is this Quillon and what does he want with her? What is she running from? Again, why do I even care?

  It’s been well over a hundred and seventy-five years since I cared about a human. When I transitioned, the only thing I cared about was blood… so much blood. But there was one person that I loved dearly and could not leave behind, against my better judgment.

  I cared deeply for my mother. I was her world, and she was my best friend. It was extremely difficult for me to be around her after my change, and I was fearful that I would end up killing her. I had to put distance between us and make an excuse to be away from her for long periods of time. I told her I joined the military, so contact would be limited. Of course, I didn’t join the military, I instead traveled around the country and every few months, I would stop back home to visit. The visits were difficult to uphold as she became older. I stopped aging when I was turned at the age of thirty-one and she started to notice I hadn’t aged. She never asked, but the look in her eyes told me everything. There was a slight fear hidden in her eyes. At that point, I told her I was going away for a long time and didn’t know when I would return. She understood as she handed me a drawing she made. It was of the two of us when I was a child. I’ve cherished that drawing the most in my life and had it preserved as soon as the technology became available.

  I left for seven years before I found out she was deathly ill and visited her on her final day. She had changed so much in the past seven years that she was unrecognizable. While alone, as she looked at me with the questions in her eyes that she would never ask, I began
to tell her what I had become. I told her I was a vampire. I told her I could save her, I could turn her. But she refused. She didn’t care I was a vampire. I was her son, and that was all that mattered. As she took her final breath, I felt what was left of my heart, shatter into a thousand pieces.

  The only reason I held myself together over those twenty-five years, was for her. I didn’t want her to see me as a monster. Didn’t want her to see me as an abomination, but with her gone… nothing held me back.

  But that’s a memory for another night.

  Chapter 14

  I hate thinking of my past and who I have lost, and what I have done. My crimes against humanity would have me hanging from the closest oak tree as thousands watched. I should be killed for my past crimes. I’m still the man of my past, still killing here and there, but nothing like I used to be. It’s just in my nature.

  Maybe that’s an excuse, but I don’t plan on changing. I’ve already changed enough by allowing this human to live and even sleep in my bed…

  “What the hell is wrong with me…?” I grumble as I stand up. The sun is shining and the park staff just arrived to open the gates. As I stand, something feels off. My knees feel like they are going to buckle. I steady myself and flex my legs, bending my knees. This sensation is new… I haven’t felt anything like it since I was human.

  Shaking off the odd sensation, I head back into my living room and lock the hatch behind me. I don’t need her escaping and causing a scene. Once secure, I step into my bedroom and peer at the sleeping figure under my sheets. I lean against the door jamb, resisting the sudden urge to join her under the covers.

  I ball my hands into fists at my own annoyance. I don’t like not being in full control of myself.

  Listening from my doorway, I hear her breathing is normal and her heart beat is regular. It shouldn’t be too long now before she wakes up. I go into the kitchen and fill a glass with water and place it on the nightstand next to her. I’m sure she will be thirsty once she awakens.

  Returning to the living room, I sit on the sofa, suddenly feeling exhausted. It’s been a long night, one for which I am thankful is over. I lie across the couch and place my head on the pillow that smells of strawberry shampoo. Breathing in the alluring scent, I fall into the darkness of sleep.

  Unsure how long I have been sleeping, I listen to the heartbeat in the other room. Her heart is racing and her breathing is rapid… She’s awake.

  Slowly getting off the couch, I realize the sensation in my knees has not dissipated. Despite that fact, I walk over to the door of my bedroom to see Alexandria still under the covers. She has her head covered as if she can hide from me.

  Cute…

  “I know you’re awake,” I say gruffly as I step in the room.

  Her heart skips several beats, but she otherwise doesn’t make a move.

  I walk over to the bottom of the bed and grab the covers, yanking them to the floor and leaving her exposed.

  Faster than I’ve seen a human move, she gathers herself and flees to the corner of the room, holding her gun.

  An evil smile spreads across my face. Hasn’t she realized I removed the bullets from it? How did she even get a gun permit in the first place?

  “You shot me once. That won’t happen again,” I say coldly without emotion.

  She raises her weapon and aims for my head. I continue to watch her, waiting for her to pull the trigger. But instead, she speaks.

  “What do you want with me?” she says in a surprisingly strong voice.

  I cock my head to the side, evaluating her question, trying to find my answer. Looking at her knotted hair, baggy clothes and fierce eyes, I know exactly what I want to do to her… I narrow my eyes in frustration. I have no plan to deal with her. I’ve let her live this long and I don’t foresee me killing her yet.

  “I don’t know,” I say in a soft tone.

  “What the hell do you mean, you don’t know!? Clearly, you want me for something!” she snaps, never moving her finger from the trigger.

  I step closer, testing her resolve. Fire and fear flare in her eyes as she moves her foot back, only to connect with the baseboard of the wall.

  “Don’t you come near me!” she shouts in anger with fear coating the edges.

  Before she can move or react, I stand directly in front of her with the barrel of the gun pressed against my chest.

  My eyes lock with hers and I watch as the terror fills her entire being. She pulls the trigger… once, twice, three times, and nothing but a click fills the air between us. She drops the gun, and crumples to the floor into a fetal position, with her head on her knees and her arms wrapped around her neck. Tears stream down her face.

  “Please… please don’t kill me. I’m… I’m sorry,” she’s sobbing like a child.

  I can’t do anything but stare at her for a moment. She goes from being this strong woman, full of fire, to a crumpled child, sobbing on the floor.

  My heart physically aches to watch her like this.

  “Get on the bed,” I demand as I back up giving her some space.

  Her head snaps up with horror in her eyes. “Please no… no, no, no!”

  I don’t know what she has been through, but a picture is being painted in my mind.

  “I won’t ask again,” I tell her sternly.

  Tears fall to the floor as she slowly crawls over to the bed on her hands and knees. She reaches the edge of the bed and sits on the floor with her back to the mattress as she looks up at me with innocent eyes. They plead with me.

  “I expect that water to be gone when I return,” I nod my head toward the glass just above her head on the nightstand.

  She trembles and shakes her head no.

  “That was not a request,” I growl as I walk out of the room heading toward the kitchen.

  I grab the bread and toss a couple pieces in the oven. I then crack a few eggs into a pan and start scrambling them.

  Having kept humans on the floor below, I had to buy food to feed them and have the appliances to cook random items. Humans don’t provide good blood when not given proper nutrition.

  After finishing the scrambled eggs and pouring a glass of milk, I grab the toast from the oven and place everything on a plate. I then head back into the bedroom, to find that Alexandria has disappeared.

  Sighing aloud, I place her breakfast on the bed and walk over to the bathroom door. I knock gently and hear her heart race once again.

  “You and I both know this door can’t stop me from getting to you,” I say in a threatening tone, waiting for any response, but she says nothing. “Time to eat,” I say softening my tone.

  I hear her take in a small breath, then the softest of words fill the air around me. “Can… am I allowed to shower first?”

  I smile at my own thoughts before saying, “I’ll grab your bag.”

  On my way out, I take her breakfast and place it in the warm oven. I grab her bag and knock on the bathroom door again. “Here’s your bag.” I leave it by the door and return to the living room to give her privacy.

  Chapter 15

  It wasn’t until an hour later that I hear her open the bathroom door. I take her breakfast out of the oven and walk into the bedroom where I have to pause for a moment as I stare at her sitting on the bed.

  Her golden brown hair is still damp and swoops over her left shoulder. Her blush-colored, spaghetti strap tank top, hugs her body like a glove, and her black shorts don’t cover enough of her long legs. I take a moment to restrain myself as I search over her too exposed skin and notice her body is trembling with fear. I also notice the wound I inflicted on her shoulder is almost healed and no longer in need of a bandage. Looking up at her face in a bit of confusion, I notice her eyes are shut and her head is tipped to the left exposing her neck.

  She’s offering me her blood, but not willingly. I can see it is taking everything she has to sit here and not run in fear. I stretch my jaw, resisting the urge to take her offer and walk over to the bed, placing her f
ood on the mattress. Her body flinches with the slight movement of the bed and a small whimper escapes her lips.

  I ignore her reaction and the offer of her blood, and simply said, “Eat.”

  She stiffens as she slowly opens her eyes and looks at me, then down to the food. Her eyes dart between me and the food in front of her with confusion.

  She speaks in a soft whisper, “But… I thought… don’t you…” she seems at a loss for words.

  “I’d love to drain you dry, and your offer is not helping… I do not restrain myself well…” I pause as I watch her face.

  Surprise covers her features, and she suddenly grabs the blanket next to her and covers herself up.

  “S-sorry,” she stutters, refusing to look in my direction.

  I ignore her comment and say, “You need to eat.”

  Handing her the milk, she slowly reaches for it, looking at me as if it’s a trick.

  I sigh. “Just take the damn milk,” I say annoyed.

  She grabs it quickly and places both hands on the glass. She sits silently and continually glances at me between sips.

  “Would you rather I leave so you can eat?” I ask in an exasperated tone.

  Her pale blue eyes shoot to mine as she looks deep into my non-existent soul. She seems to analyze me, choosing between what she should say, and what she wants to say.

  Before she can speak, I get up and start to head out the door. Almost completely out of the room, I hear a faint ‘stay’ come from behind me. Hearing she wants me to stay, causes a smile to spread across my face and warmth to rise in my chest. Damn it! I need to get it together!

  I turn around, keeping emotion from my face and go to sit on the bottom of the bed.

  We sit in silence as she picks up a piece of toast and gingerly nibbles at it. I watch her in fascination as she slowly eats her breakfast. Every bite is small, and she chews every morsel exactly twenty-five times before swallowing. She takes a sip of milk between every five bites of food. She never once looks at me as she keeps her head down, focusing on the plate before her. When she eats half of everything, she places her fork and glass on the plate and hands it to me. I notice she keeps her head down, with her arms stretched out, waiting for me to take the plate.