by Marilynn Fae
Chapter One: Quit
"Get this done for me," Kent tosses a file in front of her without so much as a 'please' and 'thank you'.
"I'll get right on that, sir," she mumbles mostly to herself as she tries to muster a little more enthusiasm into her work. It's getting harder and harder to fake nowadays. Everything is just so monotonous. Nothing ever changes and if she lets herself continue this way, she'll be spending the rest of her life behind the desk doing work that's slowly eating her soul and turning her into a machine.
Then again, she knows this isn't how her story is going to end. She's not going to end up here forever because she's already behind on her payments and if she doesn't make next month's payments, she's going to have to resort to drastic measures to get the money. Maybe get another place to loan her the money.
She sighs and pushes that worry to the back of her head. No point worrying about something that hasn't happened yet.
Half an hour later, Kent stalks out of his office and demands to see finished work. Except she's nowhere near done because she's still working on the 'very-urgent' file that Oliver had given to her that morning.
"Prioritize mine," Kent says, knowing full well that she's the one who would get in trouble he Oliver comes in and finds out she hasn't finished his portion of work.
She makes an executive decision to ignore Kent because Oliver outranks him.
Two hours later, Kent is suffering from a full meltdown in front of her desk, screaming about how incompetent and useless she is and how she only got the job because they don't have enough humans in their staff. She's not even qualified for her job, having just graduated high school a few months ago.
She can't actually argue on that with him. He's right. She isn't exactly qualified for the work, but they hired her anyways. She thought it was weird that they did, but two days into her work and countless scoldings later, she kind of gets why the position is hard to keep filled. She's like the office punching bag.
"HR should never have hired someone as stupid and as incompetent as you!" he spits and she looks away so that his splatter of saliva only hits her cheek instead of in her eyes. She wipes it off with a look of disgust.
She knows she's not the brightest bulb in the box, but she doesn't need to suffer through this humiliation. Her colleagues are giving her sympathetic looks from the corner of their eyes, but none of them are brave enough to intervene. They would rather not be involved in something so uncomfortable. She doesn't blame them. In their shoes, she would be doing exactly the same thing. Except she's not one of them. She's the one being yelled at. Her hands tighten into fists on her lap and she does the breathing exercise that her therapist had taught her weeks ago. Breathe in. Hold for five seconds. Breathe out and let your worries flow with your breath. Hold for another five seconds-
"-never get anything right! Can't even make a decent cup of coffee. I should have fired you ages ago," he says.
"Why haven't you?" she blurts before she can help herself. Unfortunately for her, Kent is a Werewolf with exceptional hearing and he doesn't miss it.
"What did you say?" he asks, eyes bulging, veins on his bald head throbbing. He's an unpleasant looking man to begin with and being so upset just makes him even harder to look at.
She looks away from him and pretends she's somewhere else.
"I asked you a question Kristy!" he slams his hands on the desk.
She jumps, surprised by the venom and aggression in his tone. Maybe someone would intervene now? It's hardly fair for a werewolf to be threatening a meek little human like herself.
No one comes to her rescue, which is hardly surprising. Yet, she still finds herself disappointed. She thought she was well-liked around here but then again, she has only been here for a month. That's hardly any time for anyone to have a sense of loyalty towards her.
She sighs and catches the tail end of Kent's rant that concludes with him firing her. "You can take your things and go," he says.
A bit much for a small mistake, she thinks, knowing that he's waiting for her to beg him to take it back. She really needs this job and he knows it. Humans who aren't employed by the government sanctioned companies are quickly picked up and relocated into other sectors that are supposed to be more fitting for her kind.
She should consider herself lucky to have work in the first place. Except she's not. All they do here is yell at her and tell her how she's doing everything wrong and that she's a waste of space. Even her colleagues think she should just give up.
His jaw falls when she nods and says, "You're right. I should go."
He probably hadn't expected her to leave. Not really. They're obligated to have at least one human employee in the company and she is the only one they have in their employment right now. She knows if she leaves, he's going to get hell from HR. They have to go through an entire process of sourcing and hiring a human before they are penalized and just the thought of the company suffering from her absence is enough to make the bitter taste in her mouth slightly less bitter.
She thinks of getting the last word in, maybe throw a few insults his way too, but her throat doesn't seem to be working. She upends the box she had been using to keep company files on the table, leaving the mess of papers that she hadn't gotten around to filing yet. A part of her is glad that it's no longer her job. It's tedious and soul-sucking and takes ages to do. Then, she fills the box with everything she owns in the office. It isn't much. She puts little pot of cactus into the box along with her bag, her tumbler of half-finished coffee, and the sandwich she had been saving for lunch.
Kent is still gaping at her as she walks past her colleagues with her head held high, adamant of keeping her dignity. She's leaving because she wants to. She'll find work elsewhere. She's sure of it.
It's awkward, standing in front of the elevator after she had pushed the button. She taps her feet and keeps her gaze firmly on the number on the top of the elevator that tells her that it's slowly making it's way up to her. She can feel her colleague's gazes on the back of her neck, and then Kent is moving towards her.
"Wait-" he starts.
She doesn't turn around.
"Wait, Kristy. That's it? You're just giving up?" he demands, grabbing her by her arm and looking as though he's ready for her to fight back or something.
It's obvious that he has no experience dealing with humans from how hard he's holding. It hurts to have his fingers around her small arm, clutching tight enough to leave bruises. "Ow!" she gasps, yanking her arm back. Or try to, anyways. He's holding too tightly. "Let go. You're hurting me," she says.
The words take a second to sink in, his brows furrowing like she is suddenly speaking a foreign language. Then, he lets go of her like she burned him, taking several steps back and putting his hands in the air. "Where would you go? You live in the company building. If you quit, you have to move out," he says.
She knows he's only saying this to scare her. It's working, but she doesn't want him to know it. She kind of wants to remind him that she didn't quit. He fired her. "I'll find away," she says, sounding more confident than she is. She's beginning to feel nauseous and a little light-headed. A part of her wants to take it back, wants to turn around and sit in front of her desk and pretend the last fifteen minutes didn't happen.
The elevator ding's, the shrill note ringing in her ears. Pride compels her to turn back around. Her feet brings her into the elevator automatically.
She sees Kent's face as the doors slide close. She's not sure who looks more stricken by the turn of events: Him, or her.
It's probably her.
Kristy knows she's made a terrible mistake.
She should have thought things over before packing up and leaving like she has any sort of plan at all. She doesn't have anything planned. In fact, she would be homeless immediately. Kent is right. The apartment belongs to the company and if she's not working with them, she can't stay. She needs to pack up everything and move out. She needs- she needs a new place to stay, a new job, money, a
nd-
"Oh god," she gasps, breathing hard and leaning against the elevator wall. The cold bites against her skin. She doesn't have enough saved up to pay deposit for a new apartment. She's only been working for a month. Kent's completely right. She's useless and pathetic and doesn't deserve a job. She should've gone with a different career route. Maybe something that requires less- less people.
The door slides open and she's at the bottom floor. Nowhere to go now but out. She puts one foot in front of the other, moving forward with conscious effort as she struggles to keep her breakfast in her stomach.
Her phone is a heavy weight in her bag. She strains her ears, hoping to hear it ring, for someone in HR to call her and say 'it's all been a big misunderstanding'.
The receptionist glances up and gives her a smile as she walks past but makes no move to stop her. The nice old lady has always treated her with kindness and probably thinks she's just on another errand.
"Have a safe trip," she calls out to Kristy.
Kristy doesn't even turn around.
She is dragging herself and the box of all the things she owns in the office out of the front door when a black sedan rolls to a stop in front of her. She feels the bottom dropping out of her stomach immediately.
How have they found out that she had quit her job so quickly?
Unless... unless they've been waiting for this to happen. She swallows, feeling nauseous.
She's made a terrible, terrible mistake.
Chapter Two: Permission
"Kristy," the man in the passenger seat of the car greets with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Get in," he says when it's clear she's just going to gape by the sidewalk.
Peter's a good-looking man in the same inhuman way all vampires are good-looking. Almost ethereal and glowing in the right light, his high cheekbones and sharp jawline complementing to make him look like some sort of royalty from the nineteen hundreds. He probably was. Peter's been alive for a long, long time.
Kristy has been a humongous idiot.
She forgot about how much vampires covet human blood. Pure human blood. With the population being less than 5% pure human and quickly dwindling, her blood is very valuable.
She had been a giant idiot back in high school. But her mother had been sick and the hospital needed money for everything, from administrative and specialist's fees, to the machine and medicine needed to keep her mother alive. And then there's the specialized treatment that not many doctor's are trained in. As much as they like to claim that humans are a 'protected and dying breed', they don't really care if humans died out completely. The only people who do care are the select group of vampires.
Still, she should have thought things over before offering to sell her blood in exchange for hospital treatments for her mother. And she really, really shouldn't have taken their money with the promise of making payment as soon as she starts working. Not that it did her mother any good in the end.
When she turned eighteen, the hospital offered her a slightly different program, a position as a blood donor for a very important client that they have. They agree to waive her loan if she agrees. It seems like a good deal. Except they don't want her to just live her life and come in to donate blood every once in a while. No, they want complete control of her life. They want to regress her mentally until she's in the mindset of a infant so they can control her diet and keep her happy and healthy for the best-tasting blood.
It's more than a little terrifying. She has always been in charge of her own life. Ever since her dad passed away and left her with her mom, she had been taking care of both of them until her mom got sick.
The idea of relinquishing her freedom in exchange for money feels wrong.
Peter had been the one to explain everything to her then and it didn't help that he had been looking at her like she was a particularly delicious cut of steak. He had understood why she refused their offer and wished her the best, but she thought he had been staring at her next and uncomfortable amount and was just glad to leave, regardless of how hot she thinks he is.
"Mr. Peter? What're you doing here?" she asks, trying to muster a smile and failing.
"Get in the car, Kristy," he says.
She eyes the front door and thinks of running back into the office and locking herself somewhere.
"You can get in quietly, or I can have my driver throw you in. Your choice."
That's not much of a choice at all. "You can't do that," she says automatically, looking around her. There's a security guard at the door who is very deliberately looking away from them. Maybe if she could get his attention-
"You'll find that I can do whatever I want, Kristy," Peter says, full of confidence.
She swallows the lump in her throat. He's right. Peter is a powerful man. Nobody in their right minds would want to cross the leader of all the vampires in this part of the hemisphere. She slides into the car with dread in her stomach. The seats are heated for her benefit. Vampires don't need to stay warm.
"Hello, Mr. Peter," she says, sweating under her shirt. "Are you here to kidnap me?"
He raises a perfectly shaped brow at her and manages a small smile. "You are very amusing," he says at last and gestures for her to close the door. She is glad for the box of her stuff to sit between their bodies. It creates a sort of barrier that gives her a sense of security.
"Why am I here?" she asks.
"I hear you have been having trouble at work, little one," he says.
She's not little but she bites her lip and keeps that to herself and focuses on the more worrying part of that sentence where he basically confessed that he's been been keeping track of her. "How did you find out?" she asks.
"I have my sources," he answers cryptically, his attention wandering from her eyes to her neck.
She suddenly wishes she had worn a scarf and breathes as quietly as she can. She knows it's irrational but it feels as though he can see the veins on her neck, blood pumping through her body. "Why are you here, Mr. Peter?" she asks again.
He hums, looking at her without actually seeing her. "Did you know that there is a 50% chance of a human being born between a Werewolf and a human couple?" he asks and with his eyes on her own, the car feels suffocating.
The divider keeps her from seeing who's driving the vehicle. "I didn't know that," she answers faintly.
"The government have been recruiting humans in an effort to repopulate our country, but they've been overzealous. Humans are seeking the bite in order to escape recruitment and as a result, have accidentally sterilized themselves. Do you see where I'm going with this?" he asks.
Not really.
It doesn't seem to matter whether she understands him. He continues, "Do you know why some vampires prefer human blood, Kristy?"
"We're delicious?" she answers faintly. She feels lightheaded already. She definitely shouldn't have climbed into the car, no matter how intimidating Peter looks.
He makes an appreciative sound, like he's thinking about it already and she should really stop giving him ideas about eating her. "Yes, and your blood isn't mixed with whichever animal Shifters are half of. Shifter blood tastes and smells like animal blood, you see. Vampire blood tastes stale and recycled. Yours, however, is completely untainted. Completely perfect. Just like you, Kristy."
She laughs, a little hysterical, hoping the little noise would ease the tension in the car. "Why am I here, Mr. Peter?"
He sits back and leans his head against the headrest, eyes forward. Ironically, the sudden absence of his intense scrutiny on her body makes her feel more tense. "Have you thought about our proposition, Ms. Kristin?" he asks.
She thinks proposition is the right word. He doesn't want just her blood. He wants her body and soul too. She nods. "I don't- If it's about the money, I'll find another job. I'll keep working. You don't have to worry about that. I'll- I'll pay you back."
He chuckles. "You can work everyday for the rest of your life and you still wouldn't be able to pay me back everything I'm owed, li
ttle one," he says and reaches into the side pocket by the door of the car, retrieving a stack of papers and then putting them in her lap. "Sign these," he says, dropping the pen on top. "From today onwards, you belong to me."
Deep down, she had known this was coming from the day she agreed to take money in exchange for making her mother's last days bearable. Right now though, she's wishing she hadn't signed away her rights so easily, wishes she had looked for alternatives.
It's hard to focus her eyes with the nerves eating away inside her, gnawing uncomfortably under her skin with every inhale. "Should- should I read these?" she asks, flipping through the pages without reading anything because her eyes are burning with unshed tears and she's panicking inside, heartbeat going erratic, cold sweat forming on her forehead and fingers trembling so hard that the papers shake in her hands. She has to grip it tighter. Even the paper it's printed on feels expensive.
"You could," he says. "But you have to sign them afterwards anyways. You're already behind on payment and you don't want to know what happens to people who don't pay me back, love."
She is a little bit curious about what would happen to people who don't pay him back, but she also doesn't want to risk a demonstration. She closes her eyes for a second, trying to steel herself. Then, she picks up the pen and signs at the bottom of the page. Her fingers shake and the signature comes out like chicken scratch, but it's acceptable. Certain words jump out to her on every page that she's signing. Things like 'complete surrender of basic rights', 'adult video', and 'chemical treatments'.
She tries not to have a panic attack.
Chapter Three: Control
Relinquishing control of her body to the Vampire Lord should be harder than signing a few pieces of paper, but it's not. Within seconds, her life no longer belongs to herself.
She thinks there should be more fanfare to it, but nothing happens. He takes the papers from her lap and slides them into a folder.
