Living in Darkness (Bloodbreeders) (5 page)

“No, of course not. One day you will understand more about my kind, and
our situation, then you will see why I had to do what I have done,” he
desperately tried to explain.

“You’re ‘kind’… You mean murderer? Home wrecker?”

He shook his head and slowly began to climb
off of
me. We both sat up, with me staring him in the eyes, waiting for him to
explain. He looked down, almost as if he wished he didn’t have to.

“Look,” I said. “You started this, now tell me.”

The words had barely left my mouth when the pain in my stomach hit,
doubling me over, causing me to almost throw up. Martin was by my side in
seconds, rubbing my arm the way my mother would have. I tried my best to push
him away.

“Don’t,” I gasped. “Don’t you ever touch
me.
” The
pain hit harder this time, knocking me over on all fours.

“Renee, you must feed, it will ease the pain.”

“Feed?” I asked, holding my arms across my stomach. “What are you
talking about?”

“We don’t live as those you once knew. We must take in blood to
survive,” he explained.

“Now, I
know
you’re insane. I’m
nothing like you… I’m going home.” I tried to walk away, but every few steps
brought on more pain. “What did you give me? You slipped me something to make
me sick, didn’t you? This is just another one of your tricks, isn’t it?”

“Renee, let me prove to you that what I say is true. You are my kind
now, let me show you why you can never go back,” he said.

I stood there, breathing hard. What choice did I have? I couldn’t do
much with the pain, even though it seemed to have eased off somewhat.

“What Martin? What in God’s name could you tell me that would keep me
from wanting to be with my family? And you’d better come up with something
other than ‘drinking blood’,” I said with all the sarcasm I could muster.

Martin either didn’t catch my sarcasm or didn’t care. He just continued
on with his proof.

“To start off, look around. Have you ever seen so clearly under the
darkness of night?”

I had noticed subtle differences, but it hadn’t dawned on me how
different until he brought it to my attention. Was I imagining it, or could I
actually see the shape of the leaves on the tree beside me as if they were
directly in front of my face? I shrugged.

“Yeah, so what? The moon’s just brighter tonight.”

“Renee, do you see the moon?” he asked, pointedly.

“Well, no,” I replied, looking for it. “I guess not. But...”

“Second,” he held up a hand to stop me. “Do you not hear the deer across
the way, foraging for food?” The deer had to be at least 100 yards away, yet I
could hear it like it was right next to me. I couldn’t explain it, but he was
right.

“Third,” he said. “Move your tongue across your teeth.”

He seemed to be studying my face passionately as I did as he had asked,
so intensely in fact, that it was almost startling all on its own. As I ran my
tongue along the sharp edge of my eye-teeth, I knew my face showed the shock that
I felt, because he began to move closer to me.

“Stop,” I demanded. “Stay back! What did you do to me? What did you…?”

I was suddenly at a loss for words. I couldn’t make myself stop stroking
my teeth with my tongue. They were sharp, like the fangs of a cat, and I was
becoming overwhelmed by everything that was suddenly happening too fast. I was
no longer looking at Martin, but at my surroundings. The night was so beautiful
and so clear.

Martin seemed to be looking around at the night as well, or at least it
seemed so when I glanced his way.

“Dawn approaches, and you need to feed before we take shelter from the
day,” he said.

“Oh, here we go again,” I said, throwing my hands into the air. “You
really meant what you said? Well, you can count me out, that is something I
will never do.”

“You are most stubborn,” he replied, frustration betraying his voice.
“But I promise, if you do not, your pain will grow beyond comprehension. Then you
will feed against your will, or surely die.”

At that, I laughed so loud, I think I actually saw Martin jump. “Die,
you say? Well, according to you, I already
did
die. Besides, what do I care? My family already thinks I’m dead. I would rather
die than hurt my worst enemy the way that you’ve hurt me.”

For a moment, he sat staring across the field beyond the woods we were
in, not saying a word. Then reluctantly, he said, “As you wish, but we must
go.”

“Go where?” I asked. “What makes you think I would go anywhere with
you?”

“Whether you believe me or not,” he stared me directly in the eye, enunciating
every syllable. “The sun is now your enemy, as much as it is mine, and we must
find shelter before it rises. If you wish, we can continue this, shall we say,
conversation
, at a more appropriate
time.”

“What do you mean the sun–” I managed to say before he stopped me.

“There is no time for this now. I will answer all you wish to know, but
now we must go.” With that, he began walking fast-paced, with me in tow. I
tried repeatedly to pull away, but every time I did, he would tighten the grip
he had on my arm.

We had walked around a mile before he slowed, and I began to recognize
our whereabouts: we were back at the Burkett Cemetery. Perhaps I would have
been able to better prepare myself if I had kept my mind on the road, instead
of focusing on how different everything seemed, from the look of the night sky
to the smell of the bluebonnets we passed along the way. It was all just too
much to take in. Perhaps if I had focused, I could have gotten out a question
or two, perhaps. Martin approached a large old crypt in the middle of the
cemetery.

“We will stay here throughout the day,” he said. “And when night falls
we shall move further out and closer to our true destination.”

“I don’t know what cracker barrel you fell off of,” I said, feeling
myself become frustrated once more. “But do you have any idea how crazy this
sounds?”

“Keep your voice low,”
Martin
said, as he
looked around cautiously. “There are others like us in this area, I can feel
it. Those are the ones you must stay far away from, Renee. They are a bad breed
and they will do their best to take you from me.”

And with that, he took me by the arm and once again began dragging me
around like a rag-doll. It’s not like he couldn’t just say,
‘come on
let’s go over here’
.
No, he just did as he pleased, like most men did in
that day. I guess my mother was right. My father was definitely a one-of-a-kind
man. What must my father be thinking? This very day, he was forced to watch as
his oldest child was put six feet under, and it was all thanks to the beast
that stood beside me. The anger that had been building inside me all night
finally boiled over with that thought. I turned on Martin, and yanked my arm
from his tight grip.

“After everything you have done to me and my family, I would rather
burn in hell than go into that damned crypt.”

He began to speak, but was stopped short by my fist slamming into his
face. I put every ounce of anger I was feeling behind that punch.
 
It rocked him back on his heels so hard that
he almost lost his balance… almost. Instead, he came back at me with an anger
of his own, the glow in his animalistic eyes were far more frightening than his
hands around my neck.

“Do it,” I pleaded. “Do It… Kill me. I would be better off dead than
with you.” I could feel the tears beginning to well up in my eyes.

“You are the most stubborn woman that I have ever met and I have only
known you for a short time,” he said, his hands still encircling my neck. “I
don’t know why I bothered with you.”

“Why, Martin?” I asked. “Why did you bother with me?”

I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. I began to sob, and the
vicious expression on Martin’s face was quickly replaced with sympathy. He
slowly eased his grip on me and pulled me into his arms.

“Oh, my beautiful Renee,” he said softly. “Believe me when I tell you
that there are reasons for my actions, but there is little time at hand to
explain them. Please come with me now, and I will explicate everything very
soon, I promise.”

As he released me, I slumped to the ground and continued to cry. He
left me to my thoughts and walked to the crypt. He pushed open the solid cement
door as if it were made of paper, then came back over to my side. He held his
hand out to help me up, but I just laughed. I wiped the tears off my face with
the back of my hand, and started getting up on my own, only to trip on the hem
of my dress. Before I realized it, he had a hold of my arm, trying to keep me
from falling.

“I can do it,” I said, looking down at the hand on my arm. “So, if you
don’t mind letting go?”

I kept my eyes on his hand, not wanting to see what might be hidden
behind his. I saw as his hand slowly fell away and then he walked back to the
crypt door.

“My lady, would you please come? Dawn truly is at hand.”

“Fine, fine,” I sighed heavily. “I can see you’re not going to shut up
until you get your way…” I mumbled under my breath, as I made my way toward
him.

He did a slight bow, and motioned for me to go in first.

“Oh, huh-uh,” I said, shaking my head. “You go first. This was your
idea, not mine.”

“I was merely trying to be a gentleman,” he replied, stepping through
the doorway.

“I think that time has come and went, don’t you?”

Martin pushed the door closed behind us, as I tried to prepare myself
for the worst. I was ready for anything at this point, spider webs, bugs, dirt,
and of course, old Doc Hill’s dead wife. What I saw was about as far from that
as it could get. There was a large concrete block in the middle of the room
covered in candles. As Martin started lighting them, I could see that there
were piles of straw covered with blankets on the ground, makeshift beds no
doubt. Between the beds sat a small box that was being used as a table, and
atop it laid a hairbrush and a small golden box. He must have been planning
this for some time. Well, at least now I knew where his days were spent.

“So this is what I have to look forward to?” I asked, sarcastically.
“Straw beds, in a dirty old crypt?”

“For now,” he replied, looking at me with tired eyes. “Renee, we must do
what is necessary to survive. Then, I will take you to a home finer than any
your mind could imagine.”

“Oh really? Well, what exactly makes you think I would want to go with
you? Did you really think I would just agree to all of this?”

“You will understand more, but I am too tired to carry on. Please, let
it be for now,” he pled, sitting down on one of the beds.

Fine
,
I thought to myself.
I dropped down on my so-called bed, and reached for the brush. My eye caught
the golden box, and I hesitated, almost reaching for it. I felt Martin watching
me, so I snatched up the hairbrush instead.
He
wants me to look in the box
,
I told myself,
and I refuse to give him
the satisfaction of getting his way again
.
I started taking down my hair, removing the countless pins that held the bun in
place. The braid was wrapped so tight that my head should have hurt. My hair
hung to my knees when not braided, and it seemed to take forever before I got
to the point where I could actually brush it.

“This is the first time that I have seen you with your hair down,”
Martin said, as he reclined on his bed, not three feet from mine. “It is indeed
a beautiful sight.”

I ignored his statement and continued the tedious process of
detangling.

When I was about halfway through brushing out my hair, I became more
tired than I had ever been. My arms and legs felt increasingly heavy, and when
I could no longer as much as lift my arm, I dropped the brush and laid back. I
rolled my head to the side enough to see that he was watching me as the pull of
dawn took me under.

Chapter 5

The next night when I woke, there was an unbearable pain in my gut.
Martin was gone, but he had left several candles lit and the door to the crypt
open. I cradled my aching stomach with one arm and pulled myself up with the
other, using the large concrete slab that set in the middle of the floor—in
which I assumed Mrs. Hill was securely sealed—to keep from falling back down. The
pain eased a bit when I stood, giving me the momentum to make my way to the
open door, if just to look out. That is when it hit me: my grave is somewhere
in this very cemetery, meaning my entire family was at my funeral just hours
ago. Curiosity got the best of me, and I set out to find the burial site that
everyone thought to be my final resting place.

I walked row after row until I came upon a plot covered with freshly
turned earth. My heart began to race, as my mind contemplated what it was about
to see. I looked down, little by little, until my eyes rested upon an object not
intended for its owner to see: my headstone. “Renee Crocker, February 17, 1910
- August 11, 1936. Beloved Daughter and Sister.” The pain in my body, combined
with the shock of this sight was far too much for me to handle. I collapsed on
the mound and began to sob, softly at first, growing into anger with every
passing second. I began pounding my fist into the soft earth over and over,
until I had no energy left to pound. Exhausted, I lay over on the grave. I was
too tired to even think anymore. There was nothing left to care about.