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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1560021-Midnight-Moon-The-Beginning
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Dark · #1560021
a werewolf and a mortal face off to win the affection of a vampire :D
I threw the last log into the fire and wiped my forehead. I examined my fingers. I had no splinters in them, luckily. I wiped my hands on my pants and made my way to the house. Momma was cooking again, I could tell. There was chicken roasting in the oven. Mashed potatoes, green beans, and corn on the cob were being fixed on the stovetop. The stove and oven were both made of black marble, fine even for this side of Satu Mare. We lived far away from Transylvania, thanks to momma. Yet she wasn’t my real momma. She was my foster mother, and I was not the only child she had to take care of. There were 13 of us in the mansion, the only mansion in fact, near the Carpathian Mountains. We were all taken here because of our special abilities. Eleven of the children, Ami, Sam, Jacob, Josh, Justin, Lexi, Rosanna, Levi, Becky, Taylor, and Mary, had the ability to read peoples minds. Amazing, isn’t it? The other girl, Kali, was the other odd ball of the group. She could foretell the future in her dreams. Her, Josh, Sam, Mary, and Taylor were my only friends in the whole house. Nobody knew who I was, or what my special ability was. I go by Bella, and nobody questions me other wise. “Momma Wilson, may I go to the pool? All my chores are done.” I asked her, and she turned away from her cooking long enough to give me one of those sweet smiles of hers. “Ok, you may Bella. But you have to be dry and dressed before three. We have visitors coming. And, Josh is already out there, so go have fun.” I smiled at her and ran upstairs to put on my swimsuit.

         I swung the door open into the dim light and had to shield my eyes. I had gotten accustomed to wearing the towel around me before I got into the water, and of course sunglasses were a necessity in this type of weather. The coolest it had ever got here in the summer was a whopping 105. We don’t have many neighbors, and the only person that would be close enough to be investigating was a quarter of a mile away. The pool itself is amazing to the people that come to “get” a child. It’s 45 feet long, but it only goes to 10 feet. Most of the kids don’t go down to the deep end anymore. It’s the way we lost one of our most beloved house members, Kevin Poindexter. We never got along very well, but we didn’t really hate each other. I guess you can’t be friends with everyone, right? There was rumors going around the house that he had a secret crush on me. But it didn’t make sense. I am almost 5 foot tall, with “half and half” eyes and black hair. The reason they call it half and half is because the upper part of my eye is blue, the lower half is tannish-brown. Not the best combination of colors, but soon they will be fully blue. But that day won’t come for quite some time, about three months to be exact. Momma Wilson was telling the truth. Josh was already there. He kept dipping in and out of the water like a dolphin. I giggled, and silently slipped into the ice-cold water behind him.

         My teeth chattered as I got up to my shoulders in the cold water.  I watched Josh swim stealthily through the water. His pale skin glistened with a hint of brown. The smell of human scent was amongst the waves that surrounded him, but I shook my head and forgot all about it. His dark brown hair was matted and wet. His eyes were gold, a unique color that could only be found in the southern part of Satu Mare. His shell necklace hung around his neck stiffly. He quickly resurfaced. Waves rippled past me, making cold chills rise up and down my spine. The wind was slightly blowing, the scent becoming stronger and making me hungrier. I shook it off with a hard shake of my head. He turned around and looked at me. He just stared for a while, until I became uncomfortable with the silence. The sun was roasting a hole through my neck, or so it made it feel. “So,” he said, nervously running his fingers through his hair, “how long have you been in here?” I shrugged and tried to act as calm as I looked. “Not very long,” I stated, and grabbed the blue pool float off the cement walk and slapping it in, “Long enough to be freezing, though.” He smiled, his monotone voice making everything come to life again. I smiled, jumped up on the float, and splashed water at him. He was so fun to be around.

         We splashed around for a while and I kept tackling him. He lifted me up and blew on my stomach. I laughed, and reached out and tickled him. He laughed and put me down. We started splashing each other again when Jacob walked out of the house. Jacob was far from human. He was a mixture of human and werewolf, two combinations that destroyed the likes of my kind. But anyway…. He was the serious one of the whole group. He was the “fun spoiler.” He walked over to the edge of the pool and glared down at us. We stopped splashing and looked up at him. I already knew he was there, for I could sense someone like him, or anyone at that fact, from a mile away. He had his arms crossed over his chest and he had a serious look in his brown eyes. “You all need to get in the house. It’s almost 2:30.” He said, and strode back to the house with his nose up in the air. Typical Jacob Harrison-Marshall. He’s always downing people with negative statements and criticism. “What a party pooper.” Josh said, and climbed out of the pool. He was wearing black swimming trunks with blue skulls that reached to his knees. “Yeah. Hey,” I said, taking advantage of the fact that he was the strongest boy probably in this side of Romania, “you want to help a girl out here?” he grabbed my arms and pulled me out. “Hey, there’s a van out front.” He said, and I stared in the direction that he was mentioning. There was a long, white limo and a black van parked in front of the house. There was fancy blue writing on the side of the van, but I couldn’t tell what it was. It was in a different language.

Part Two: Taken Away


         The smell of prey gushed through me as I walked outside with Justin and Kali. They were standing beside each other, holding hands as they usually do. Their hands always looked perfect together. We all formed ourselves into a line. Miss Wilson came by and pulled my sunglasses off my face. “It’s disrespectful to our visitors if they can’t see your eyes.” She said, and walked back inside the house. The sunlight glared into my eyes and burned the sensitive retinas. I covered them with my bangs, but left enough space for me to see what was going on. The chauffeur walked around to the side of the excessively clean, white limo that was nearest us, and opened the door. A tall, older looking man stepped out of the vehicle. Judging from his looks he was in his late ‘60s. He was a mortal, to be sure. He was colorful and radiant; the wrinkles in his face, on his neck, and on his hands were effortless and completely natural. He walked with an unprecedented step, his cane in his left hand seemed unneeded. His eyes weren’t dull like most, I’m not saying all, of the Undead’ were. They were bright and marvelous. Mortals were beautiful pieces of art. They make me feel two hundred years younger. I may not look old in mortal eyes. In mortal years I look like I’m 18. Yet any of the true Undead can tell you that I am exactly 218 years, 20 days, 15 minutes, and 29 seconds old. The old man was looking at everyone. He was going down the line, looking at everyone and the chauffeur would hand a certain one a rose. My friends’ faces seemed to light up when they got their flower. I had to hold back a laugh. Talk about originality.

         He walked up to Josh and looked him in the eyes. I couldn’t help but watch. The man smiled and nodded, and the chauffeur handed him a dark red rose. The chauffeur held all the flowers in his right hand. Another breeze came by, and I could smell his scent. He was human too, and not a bad looking one at that. He was tall, with big brown eyes, and he had blonde hair. He was Scottish. He kept his left hand hidden behind his back. The old man skipped three people and stopped, purposely, in front of me. “What’s your name, lassie?” he asked me, studying the part of my face that was exposed. “Bella,” I said, noticing his Scottish accent. It wasn’t hard to tell Scots from born Romanians. He shook his head. “No, I mean your real name.” He said matter of factly, and he smiled. I stopped smiling and pushed my bangs out of my face so my whole face was exposed, so I could see him better. “BellAna Michelle Zanikuran.” So, he knew I wasn’t a mortal. The sun burned my face, so I shielded it again. The chauffeur took his hand out from behind his back. He handed me a bouquet of black and blue roses with a card stuck in the middle. They quickly moved on. I looked at the card and plucked it from its spot, and opened it. It said, in fancy letters, “Welcome Home BellAna.” My heart stopped pounding. Somebody knew my name. And it was my real one at that matter. Who knew that much about me? The only people that knew anything about me certainly wasn’t of the mortal variety. I looked up at the sound of a car door opening. The chauffeur had opened the limo door. Suddenly, two strong hands grabbed my arms, lifted me off the ground, and started carrying me towards the door. I was shocked at first, but when I saw Kali’ scared face, I started fighting back. It was no use. They were strong mortals, and even my extra ordinary strength couldn’t fight them off. They tossed me in the limo like a rag doll and slammed the door.

         I was the only non-mortal in the limousine. The chauffeur kept his eyes on the road ahead of us. The old man and the two other men, apparently his bodyguards or something along that line, sat in the back also. The two men, both strictly mortal, sat on either side of the old man. Chills ran up and down my spine again. The old man looked at me in the face. “You know it’s not a good idea for me to be in a car like this one with a group of incoherent mortals such as yourselves.” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. I tapped my fuchsia colored nails on the armrests. The old man smiled at me. He had hideous yellow teeth. But its better than stained red ones, so I was personified to looking intently out the window at a dead mouse. “You don’t recognize who I am, do you, BellAna?” he asked. I acted like I was thinking. I tapped my forefinger against my chin. “No, not really,” I said, my conscious in my inner head annoying me about food, “and I don’t care, regardless.” He nodded seriously and the man to his left took a green, glass bottle out from the drawer underneath the seat. He also pulled out a fancy looking crystal glass and poured clear, fizzy liquid into the glass. He handed it to the old man and closed the drawer. I closed my eyes as the old man leaned back and drunk it. It had been close to 36 hours since I had last fed, and the scent that breezed through the car was making that little annoying voice in my head become louder. I could feel the men’s eyes on me. It was to much to bear. I couldn’t stop myself. My eyelids flew open and I leaped on the old man. I grabbed his shoulders, pinned him down with all my strength, and bit into his soft, baby powder smelling skin. The two men that sat at his sides jerked me away before I could drink a lot of blood. I slashed at them but they pinned me against the side of the car. The old man coughed and held his hand up to his bleeding neck. He glared at me through narrowed eyes. “You have just made a big mistake, young lady.” He said, in a half way dead tone. I smiled with razor sharp fangs and laughed.

         The castle was huge. It was made of old, maroon bricks that had come from Japan (according to the dragon symbol on every other brick.) My two escorts, Cody and Ryan were their names, led me up to the gates. The gates lifted open, like the ones in those old medieval torture movies. The cast iron resembled teeth. They scraped together making a horrifying screeching sound. I cringed, but the men just looked on like it didn’t bother them. They must be used to it. I looked up to the men that were holding my arms. The one holding my right arm, Cody, was your average mortal. He was six foot, with curly blonde hair and navy blue eyes. His nose was off center, probably broken before in a fight with that of his own kind. The one holding my left arm, Ryan, was another story. He was six foot three, with thick brown hair and hazel eyes. There was more of a gold hint to them, though, which made it more unique. The drawbridge came down and made a loud booming sound when it hit the dirt. The men didn’t even flinch. I looked up at Ryan. He looked down at me, and smiled. His teeth were brilliant white. He would be an awesome vampire, I told myself, and reluctantly looked down as we walked over the planks of the drawbridge. I looked up as we walked into the parlor. It reminded me of one of those human optical illusions that they always played on each other. The walls were purple checkered, the ceiling was black with white wisps playing in it. The floor was black and stars were painted to make it look like you were entering another dimension. Cody walked away from us and turned down the hallway. I looked up at Ryan. He was broadening his shoulders, and he released my arm. I looked down at his hand. It was perfectly formed, not like many other males hands. You couldn’t see the blood veins, but they were there. He was not pale, and yet not dark either. He was the perfect shade.

         I heard footsteps advancing toward us, and we both looked in the direction. Cody was coming back, yet this time he was carrying a small brass key in his left hand. He handed the key to Ryan, took off his hat and bowed at me, and then turned and walked back down the hallway. Ryan led me to a room near the end of the long corridor. He opened the boxes I had brought along and started putting things in the cabinets. The bedroom was like something out of those ancient Roman paintings, minus the random polka dots. There were walls that were painted the colors of a sunrise. The carpet was a jet black. The bedspread and curtains matched the colors. The ceiling reminded me of the ceiling in the parlor. The whole room was full of mystery and magic. The only thing that was off was the piece of machinery that was mounted on the wall. I walked across the room and Ryan watched me as he finished putting up my things. I could tell because I felt his eyes burning a hole in my back. The machine was made of steel and had big green and red buttons all over it. I had never seen a piece of machinery like it before. “What ‘tis this piece o’ machinery ‘ere on this wall?” I asked, and Ryan strode up beside of me. I could hear his heart beating faster. “It is something that Father invented to keep your ‘kind’ under human control. But I quite honestly see no use for it. You seem…sweet.” He said, and his eyes looked over the buttons. I smiled. My fangs lengthened, but I retained myself by pushing one of the red buttons. Ryan turned and looked at me with horror in his eyes. The floor shifted and flipped.

Three metal cages full of crazy eyed wolves came to the surface. They were menacing and scary. I could hear Ryan’s teeth chattering behind me. The wolves’ eyes were blazing red or various shades of yellow. Their fur was spiky, and their claws were like teeth, scraping against the metal. One of the wolves howled, and the others stared holes through me and growled. I knew what they were thinking. They were hungry. They were thin, signifying that they had not been fed in quite some time. There was a loud beeping noise that went off in the distance, and suddenly the doors sprung open. The wolves ran towards Ryan and I like bullets. I pushed Ryan against the wall. He had fear cast in his eyes. I turned back around as the first wolf leaped on me. I grabbed its snout and threw it against the wall. It immediately sprang back up. The battle was on.
         
Midnight Moon: Chapter Two

         Another werewolf leapt on me. This one was stronger than the first. His teeth barred close to my nose. It growled and barked, and dark black venom from its mouth ran down my cheeks. I wiped my face with my free hand and punched the wolf in the neck. It howled in despair and backed off. It hacked and coughed, just long enough for me to get to my feet and brace myself for another attack. It fell then, its fur flattening and its beating chest slowing down. The other wolves watched their leader fall. The figure transformed before our very eyes. The creature let out an ear splitting scream, so loud that the walls shook and our ears started to ring. We watched as the claws started growing back to normal size, turning into regular shaped human nails. The snout shortened and the fur grew back in the skin, returning it to a normal males’ face. All the fur disappeared, exposing dark tan flesh. The creature was now a man, about 20 by the looks of him. His chest was barely pounding, and the only article of clothing he was wearing was dark, military looking Capri pants. He stood to his feet, and he towered above me. I measured him to be about six foot five. The other wolves were transforming to, but they didn’t look as impressive as he did. They all wore the same thing. They all had the same killer look in their eyes. I knew who they were. I smiled up at him. He looked down at me for a second, and then the other men gave each other confused looks. “So, Jared,” I said, tugging at the rip in my dress, “what brings you to this side of town? Or, to say it better, this side of the state?” he nodded his reassurance to the others, and they walked out of the room. All three of us, Ryan, Jared, and I, watched them leave. “Well, honestly, we were prowling around for food when these nimrods,” Jared said, evilly glaring at Ryan with narrow eyes, “captured us and placed us in those metal traps with no food or water.” I nodded and turned around to look at Ryan. “This is Jared Michaels. He was one of my closer ‘friends’ in high school. We never actually talked because of what we were, and who our ‘cliques’ were, but we didn’t make fun of each other and we always had each others backs.’’ Jared nodded. “And Jared, this is Ryan Davis Matthews. I don’t really know him that well, but I believe I had seen him before.” Ryan smiled weakly. Jared stuck out his hand. Ryan shook it and Jared pulled him towards him. “If you ever hurt BellAna,” he said, “I will kill you.” 

         Ryan stepped away from Jared. He was shaking. “Now, now Jared. I’m sure Ryan knows I can kick his butt if I feel threatened. Don’t you, Ryan?” I said, and Ryan nodded. Jared smiled and walked towards the door. When he was gone, Ryan wiped his hands on his pants and wiped his forehead. “Boy, isn’t he nice.” He said sarcastically, and walked over to the cages. I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest as I watched him close the cage doors and start to clean up the mess of fur and little drops of blood. Then I remembered something. “No, wait, don’t touch that blood Ryan!” I said, and ran toward him before he could bend over to wipe it up. He stopped just before I pushed him out of the way. He fell back against one of the cages and it fell over. I stooped down and wiped up the blood mess with a handkerchief before he could get up. I put the handkerchief away in my back pocket. He looked confused. “Why couldn’t I touch the blood? Does he have STD’s or something weird?” he asked, and looked at his hands. I pushed his arms down. “No, he does not have and STD. He’s one of the most advanced form of lycan. His blood is dangerous to any mortal that touches it. It has a special venom in it,” I said, and we walked out of the room, “that kills. It’s like if you were bitten by twenty fully-grown male copperheads, or like a billion black widows. Whatever you feel is good.” He looked like he was about to be sick. “But don’t worry, it isn’t on their skin. It’s inside of them.” He nodded. His eyes were still worried, and somehow I felt guilty for causing it.

         We rode the elevator down to the kitchen. I nursed his wounds on the way down, which was bad because I had never intended on being that close to his blood. It made the hunger worse. He knew something was up whenever I was done with his bandages. He could see it in my eyes. We talked about his roots the rest of the way down; from how long he had lived in Scotland to where his ancestors lived or where they were buried. Most of his family was deceased or lived in big palaces and mansions in Glasgow. His family was loaded since the day that his great grandfather passed due to some government backfire, he had said. I wondered what had gone wrong. Did the government accidentally kill him? Was the government performing an experiment that suddenly went wrong? I was pondering that all the way until the elevator doors opened and we walked into the kitchen. Everything was luxurious. My eyes lit up whenever we walked into the room. There were new appliances from everywhere across the globe. There was a dishwasher from North America. There was a fancy brick oven from France. There was a bar with stools with painted dragons on it from Japan.  Even the colors of the wall had interesting tints. The blue reminded me of a waterfall, probably because of the brick fountain in the middle of it, but still. The refrigerators were huge and made of stainless steel. It had an ice machine in the door. I was tempted to push the button, but I knew it would look weird. Especially when there were about ten mortal men and women looking at me. They knew what I was; I could see it in their eyes. The women were leaning away from me. The men were cold looking and fixed their eyes on me. I felt unwanted. Yet whenever I looked up at Ryan, he was smiling and the warmth he was giving off pulled me closer to him. He makes me feel wanted. I had a deep, black hole in the bottom of my heart. He was a mortal, and I was not. I couldn’t fall in love with a mortal. It was bad. All the rules of the Choata ancestry went against it. But how could I feel this much for someone I just met? That was the million-dollar question.

         Ryan led me around the kitchen and showed me everything from the refrigerator to the extremely expensive china in the old wood cabinet. He sounded like one of those French tour guides, like the ones that showed me around the London Museum of Arts twenty-three years ago. But that was another story. I giggled to myself, and he finally opened the refrigerator door. It was full of wines. Red and white were the most common ones. I lifted a bottle of the red wine, and he closed the refrigerator doors. He walked over to the ‘china cabinet’, as he calls it, and pulled out two crystal wine glasses with sinking ships on them. The one he handed me had the Lithuania on it. The Russian passenger ship that I remember so well. One of was friends was on that ship when it had sunk, and I had vowed to never mention it again. I blinked away foreign tears and followed Ryan into the dining room. He walked up to one of the closest tables and pulled back a chair. I assumed it was intended for me to sit in, so I sat in it and he sat beside of me. He opened the wine with ease and poured the foamy liquid in both of the glasses. He handed me the one closest and gulped his down. I intended to look like I acted so I did as he just done. I looked in it, and gulped it down. He grinned as I put it down on the table. “So, the girl thinks she can drink like a man?” he said, mockingly. I smiled. “Yeah. I bet I can drink more than you can too.” I said, and leaned in to him. He leaned in to me and I grabbed the bottle from him and downed it. He smiled, trying not to look impressed. He looked around for the cooks whenever I put the bottle down. One of the older male cooks walked over to him. I looked down at the floor. Most humans can tell what I am by looking into my eyes. Ryan talked to the man about a drinking competition between him and me, and everyone in the palace was invited to watch. I smiled to myself. This was a perfect opportunity for me. Unless there was a chance he was a better drinker than I was, which I highly doubt. I was the best drinker in the late 70’s; I beat all the Irish farmers in their own pubs. I know if I could beat them, I could beat a Scot easily.

         Ryan let me roam the house until it was time for the contest. I planned to be in my room at least an hour before the time to get down there, so I can change into my drinking dress. What is a drinking dress, you ask? It was a fine silk dress that my mother wore to her drinking parties before she and dad died, and none of the relatives wanted it, or me at that matter, so I inherited it. That along with a lot of other fancy dresses that could not be found until they started cleaning the house. They were my mothers whenever she was nineteen, and they fit me perfectly. The first room I went into was a big master bedroom, similar to mine. It had a jungle theme to it, which reminded me of my trip to the Amazon rainforest with Kali and Josh. We had so much fun that week. We took pictures of ourselves hanging from the tree branches of nearby trees like monkeys. We took pictures of Josh lying beside snakes and one fully-grown black leopard. Whenever we took the picture the leopard woke up and jumped on Josh. Kali started crying and I chased it off with a snake and a tree branch. He has a scar where the leopard scratched him before it took off. He didn’t loose anything, so we were grateful for that. On our way back to town along the riverbank, we hitched a boat ride from a man named Cieuchevik III. He was an amazing storyteller, and he named all the plants, insects, and animals that were along the banks. I was dumb founded during most of the ride, but Kali and Josh were more interested in the map that one of the visitors had left behind. They convinced Cieuchevik to stop at one of the restaurants before we had to leave. He took us to one of the more ‘sociable’ restaurants. The food was delicious, even though most of it was fish or something called an Ethiopian spiced ghee. Whenever he docked the boat it was well into night. I told him about how much fun I had as we walked up to the port house.

         Whenever Kali and Josh had gone to their rooms to pack their things, Cieuchevik sat me down and told me what he was. I was afraid then, because he was one of the powerful ‘Vampire Lords.’ He said he had lived in the Amazon for close to two thousand and eighty six years, though his body and facial features resembled him to be in his early twenties. I wanted to run away from him, to scream for help at the top of my lungs. Yet I couldn’t. Something wouldn’t let me. I was exceedingly nervous. I was sweating and I was starting to feel light headed. He had me in a bad spot; I was pinned against the wall and the door was locked. There was no way of escaping him anyway, all vampires had the strength that could match twenty or more of the worlds’ strongest men. He smiled at me, and whispered, “You can be free. I know your pain. I can see it in your eyes. I can make it go away. Believe me.” Something inside of me let its guard up and let him in. He took control of my mind. He pushed my hair from my neck. I felt his teeth graze my skin, but I wasn’t afraid now. He bit into my neck. It hurt at first, but then I started feeling tired. He took his fangs out of my neck and carried me to my bed. I was asleep before he laid me down.

         I came back to reality then, and looked at the clock on the wall. If I was going to change my clothes, I had better do it soon. I ran out the door and down the hallway to my room. Then I remembered that Ryan had put my stuff away. God knows what happened to it now, I thought to myself, and immediately ran to my drawers. All my shirts were in there, and as I pulled all of them out I realized where it might have gone. I turned around and looked for the closet. It would only make sense to put dresses and things in there, right? I ran over to the closet and yanked open the doors. I pulled them off their hinges. I silently cursed myself, but I went back to the task at hand. There it was, next to the other dark blue dress that my grandmother gave me. I pulled it off its hanger and put it on the bed. I shimmied out of my other dress and yanked that one on. I looked at myself in the mirror, and smiled. Why did I look in the mirror for if I couldn’t see myself? I said aloud and just assumed that I looked ok. If only they could make vampire mirrors, I told myself as I ran downstairs to the dining hall. Ryan was already there, sitting on one of the tables. He was talking to three of the cooks, and they were all laughing. He looked extremely casual. He was wearing dark jeans with holes and a black t-shirt. He was wearing white tennis shoes, which made an amazing contrast. He looked so happy, so colorful, and so alive. It made me depressed for a second, because I remembered back to the days when everything was so normal. When I was a mortal. I snapped back to reality whenever he saw me, and smiled. I smiled back.

         I walked up to them. The three cooks backed away. Ryan followed them with his eyes. He couldn’t tell what they were so concerned about, at least not yet. The other mortals walked back into the kitchen. They all had a glazed look in their eyes. Partially from the steam that was going through the room from the kitchen, and partially from the fact that Ryan was entranced by my powers and they could do nothing to save him from his ill-gotten fate. The fact was I didn’t plan to hurt Ryan. Ryan smiled at me and pulled up a bar stool to the table so that I could sit down. “You should probably sit down, those heels are probably killing your feet. I tell you, I would be hurting.” I smiled and sat down. “Trust me, Ryan, you know nothing of pain.” He looked at me curiously, like he wanted to know what I was talking about. I poured two shots, and pushed one to him. He picked it up. He didn’t question my earlier statement, so I was relieved. He picked up his glass and looked at me. I picked up mine and looked at him. We both took the shot at the same time. Whenever he put the glass down, he seemed to remember something. “You know what I just realized? We never set the boundaries or anything yet.” He said. “We haven’t yet, have we?” I stated, and looked around for those mysterious looking cooks. They were all standing by the china buffet, watching us as they put food in dishes and cleaned out the bins. “Ok, so if I win,” he said, and started pouring more shots, “you will have to tell me everything about you.” I nodded. “But what happens if I win?” I asked, and watched the cooks as they walked into the kitchen. They were always doing something mysterious. “Well then,” he said, and passed me a glass, “you can just use your imagination.” He smiled and nodded. What he didn’t realize is that I had only one thing on my mind, and the realization struck me like a lightning bolt.

         
         After an hour or so of horse playing and stuff, the cooks finally walked over to the table and stopped us. Ryan was laughing uncontrollably by now, and I was laughing right along with him. Not that I was drunk out of my mind, but the fact that he thought I was drunk out of my mind was funny. The cooks stopped giving me suspicious looks, so I knew that I had finally fooled them. They might be Ryan’s protectors, but they weren’t smart. “Well, looks like we both won.” He said, and tried to get out of his chair. I wasn’t very good at acting drunk, so I just laughed and stayed in my seat. “That seems fair,” I said, and acted like I accidentally fell out of my seat to the floor beside him. He stopped laughing, and rolled over to face me. “So, tell me about yourself, missy. I want to know everything about you.” I shook my head and stood back up. My head started pounding, but I didn’t let him see that. I steered around and walked to the kitchen. I heard him pick himself up and follow me. The cooks tried to stop me in the doorway, but I pushed them against the walls and walked the rest of the way through. They could not find the strength, or courage, to stand back up. Ryan looked at them and stopped for a moment. It was long enough for me to zip upstairs and close the door. It took me a moment to breathe, so I sat down on the floor in front of the door. I started breathing easier until I heard footsteps coming up the staircase. I knew it was him. There was a certain special way he walked that made him recognizable from the others. He had a slow, defined step that made barely any sound at all on any floor pavement. It made him remarkable. I shook the thought out of my brain and focused on the ever-present problem that faced me. He was on the verge of getting hurt, maybe not by me, but someone. It took all the strength I could muster to hold back the foreign tears. I heard a knock at the door. I knew it was him. I slowly stood up and opened the door. At first, his expression was confused whenever I opened it smiling, but it turned to one of relief. On the outside, the one he saw, I was happy to see him. On the inside, the part he couldn’t see, I was crying and wondering how I was ever going to make it out alive.



         
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