Love at First Bite

The First Bite

Friday. I think.

Dear Diary,

I am Jane, I am 18 years old and I have been kidnapped. Or have I? I'm still not quite sure what's going on here but I suppose kidnapped probably sums it up to a degree.

I think he has given me this book to write down my thoughts as "comfort". It is clear that that thing has no idea what comfort is at all. Still, I will take comfort in writing this diary whilst I am still trapped here. I only hope I don't run out of pages before I am released, or I escape...

I suppose I must also take into account that this diary comforts me as it cannot speak back. That may sound weird but trust me, if I told the story of what has happened since last night there is no way a human would believe me. They would think I was quite mad. On the other hand, I am writing this diary as though the paper understands me so perhaps I have already gone mad. Either way, I must now explain what happened to me yesterday, although I am scared to write the whole thing down - I still hope this is a dream....or a nightmare even.

I was walking home from my job, the same way that I always do on a Thursday; via the laundrette. I had a backpack full of washing ready and always used the laundrette on a Thursday as they had a small discount. Perhaps he knew this, had staked my routine for some time because as I approached the laundrette he was waiting for me.

I didn't know that this would be the first time I'd experience his "magic". He didn't speak. I walked straight past him and I know he didn't speak because he was a man and the voice I heard was that of a woman. But I heard this voice in my head. When it first called to me I looked around frantically but the only thing I could see was him. I turned around, facing the door of the laundrette but as I went to open the door the lights inside suddenly switched off. I tried to pull the door open but it was heavy like lead, heavy like the wave of dread that enveloped my whole body.

"Jane, turn to him. Jane, it's okay. Turn and face him."

That sweet female voice again in my head. Her voice way so milky smooth that I felt as though obeying it was my only and safest option. How wrong I was.

I slowly walked over to the figure. I knew it was a man from the size and shape but apart from that I couldn't see his face, it was shielded in shadow. He was very tall, over 6ft and towered sinisterly over me as I slowly approached him.

"Jane," he said. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the low growl of his voice. I was so terrified I didn't even think that it was weird that he knew my name. At this point, I think I knew something supernatural must have been going on. It all felt like a mysterious nightmare.

"Finally, my wife, we meet at last."

I think at this point I was almost 100% sure this was a nightmare, I must have fallen and hit my head on the way to the laundrette or at work.

"I'm not your wife, I've never met you" I stammered, still standing a foot away from him.

"Yes", even in the shadows I could sense him rolling his eyes and I was instantly frustrated- who was this crazy person! "Didn't you just hear what I said, this is our first meeting."

"You're crazy!" I shouted. "I'm no one's wife! I'm sure I would remember my own wedding you creep, get the hell away from me!"

He took a step forward and I flinched in fear. His pale face came into view, shining pure white in the gentle glow of the street lights, my whole body went cold. His face was stern as well as pale, the contrast of his sharp feature and white skin made him look like he had been carved from marble. Deep, curly, black hair covered his head and all this would have been endearing if it wasn't for his eyes. Those blood-red eyes looked right through me- through into my very soul.

"My brother's warned me this would probably happen" he smirked at me, wild red eyes flashing with amusement. "Now my prize if you'd just hold still," he said clicking his fingers.

I tried to run, tried to scream as he leaned towards me but I couldn't move a muscle. He had frozen me to this spot. Frozen me like a statue and now he was going to what, kill me?

He leaned back suddenly and spoke, "Jane, my dearest, do not be scared. I never want my love to be scared that I might kill her. Just close your eyes and it will be over soon. Or keep them open, either way, it'll be over soon" he grinned his widest grin and me and I screamed. At least it felt like I was screaming. It felt like every fiber of my being was screaming but the silence around me was violent and empty.

His teeth shone in the light, teeth I'd only seen on TV, movies, books and Halloween. Vampire teeth, long pointy vampire teeth.

I don't remember what happened next but when I woke up I wasn't on the street anymore. I was in this room, the room I sit and am currently writing in. I discovered this book laid upon the dressing table with the simple note "write your comfort, I will see you this evening, love"

The whole thing made me shudder, but I decided to write anyway in the hopes that it'd make me feel slightly calmer. Now that I have recounted my tale I feel very odd. The whole thing seems too real to be a nightmare, too vivid and almost too mad.

I need to calm myself down. Perhaps I shall take A slow walk around this room to look for a potential escape, although the lack of windows make me feel like this is unlikely.

I have taken a walk and have confirmed that there is no escape, at least not from this room. However, now I have taken the time to know this room it is actually quite pleasant. Only visually you'll understand as the last thing I'd describe my current situation as is pleasant.

There is a fire, gently burning in the corner. Its flames are soft and greatly contrast with the rest of the tall, grandeur of this room. The walls are wooden and upon them are large framed paintings of beautiful young women and sallow, black-haired men.

There is a large four-poster bed, fit for some sort of gothic princess as it is decorated with black lace and netting. The silky black sheets looked inviting, although I know sleeping is a bad idea. I have to keep my wits about me.

There is a large wooden desk, at which I am currently sat, that is empty apart from a few pots of ink and this diary. The lack of windows in this room is unnerving, I am not sure whether it is day or night. I'm guessing it is only the next day (making it Friday) however I really have no clue.

I have only now noticed the pain in my neck. If all that happened last night was true then I can only imagine what two pin-pricks may be marked there. Was it just in TV and movies that vampires drunk blood or has my captor bit me for a different reason? Perhaps I should check what has happened, steal a glance in the grand mirror that hangs above the fire. I only hope that I will not regret taking a look, although I cannot imagine things getting much worse.