Page 8 of Forever Bound

I always thought that I would be happy if my face reflected the person I truly am.

There were even moments I was tempted to mar my own looks to end the lie.

But…

Now…

My stomach drops as I seek to find a still surface of the water where I can see my reflection.

When I do, I scream.

All the physical pain that the vampire took from me comes back ten fold when I see what I now look like.

Deep scars cut across my forehead and cheeks, one slashing across my eyebrow.

The blood healed the wounds but left the scars.

Some are from the crash. Some from the man with the wooden whip.

And now I have finally gotten my wish.

I look like the monster I always knew I was.

A sob racks my body, and I fall to my knees on the rocks and weep.

Chapter 3: Did I somehow fly through a time portal? What the hell is this nonsense, and where’s my WiFi?

I don't knowhow long I spend mired in self-pity, but I'm not one to stay in that state. My recovery time from trauma could be considered… cold. Heartless even. There are those who wallow in their pain. There are those who use their pain to become better people. There are those who ignore their pain entirely.

I tend to follow a progression. Wallow briefly, see what I can learn, then ignore.

I've already reached the ignore stage when I pull myself up from the stone ground and make my way to the pile of clothes my unusual host left for me.

There will be time later to figure out the impact these new, more visible scars, will have on my life and self-esteem. Right now I'm just grateful to be alive, and I need to figure out how to get out of this village and get to Kyiv, where the US Embassy can hopefully help me get home. Since I don't know that I'll be able to recover my passport or personal items at this point.

I dress quickly in clothes that are far too large. They clearly belong to the vampire, which makes sense. He at least included a sash to tie the pants so they don't fall off as I walk.

Still, the effect is comical as I make my way back to my room and out the main door into a long stone hall carved with more scenes and lit by torches that look…odd. Off somehow. I hold my hand near one, and though it emanates warmth, it's not a real flame, but some kind of blue ball of light. I take one off the wall and carry it with me, the extra illumination giving me a false sense of safety.

It's time to explore.

The hall has doors leading to different rooms, but they're all locked and require the kind of large, ancient key my mother liked to collect before she died.

Moving on, following the red carpet beneath me, I arrive at a banquet hall with a large stone table, another fire pit burning brightly, and a room off to the side. I'm hoping it's a kitchen, and it is, but there's nothing edible that I can see. Instead, it has a pot boiling over a fire that smells bitter, and herbs hanging everywhere, with bottles of strange things lining shelf after shelf. It looks more like a medieval scientist’s workshop than the kitchen it once was, and I don't think any food has been made in here in a very long time.

I shiver when I recall that I was likely supposed to be my host's dinner last night.

Which begs the question, if not me, then who? If he can't eat food, he needs someone's blood, right?

Why didn't he eat me, I wonder?

He thought I was guilty of something.

Does he only eat the guilty?

I frown. If that's true, then I deserve to be his next meal.

My search continues for food, but when I come across a jar of eyeballs, I give up, my appetite no longer what it was.

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