Final Horror Story

- Part I ----------------
It was early, the stars were almost all asleep. He was gripping my arm so tightly I had no doubt bruises were going to appear the second he let go. He drug me through the front door and stopped to turn around and lock the door. Looking around I examined that in the room to my left there were three tubes jutting ominously out of the wall. I can only describe the tubes as the entrances to a darkroom you might find in a high school photography class. Was he a photographer?

We stepped off of the cold tile in the foyer and onto the hunter green carpet of the room to the left. He pushed me down, it hurt, but the carpet itself was surprisingly soft. I finally got a look at my kidnapper. He was tall with broad shoulders with a cold look in his blue eyes. I shied away from him glancing out the window and where I could see the sky just beginning to lighten in color. Swiftly we walked to the window and closed the curtains. He came back and grabbed my hand, as I stood up he pulled me towards the tubes in the wall. He slid the door open on the tube to the far right and shoved me into it. As he entered he slid the door closed behind him, enclosing us in the tiny space. He pushed me again, I bumped my head on the back of the tube and ended up in a ball on the floor. He knelt down next to me and pulled me towards him, finding my hands and pinning them together at my side while seeking my neck.

That was when I realized that he was no photographer, and there was a great possibility I was going to die. I started fighting but he just asserted more force. He was at my neck, and I could feel blood dripping down my shirt.
I felt cold and feverish.
I felt so tired, I did not have the energy to keep my eyelids open.
I could not him fight anymore.

Then I heard the door slide open again. For a brief moment hope flared in me I thought maybe someone was there to save me from this nightmare. But then I felt two more pairs of warm lips on my skin, and more teeth biting me. There was no hope left. I was done for.

"Go back to your rooms." snarled the man who brought me to this place.
The new comers ignored him, "Stop, we need her." He growled.
Me? Why would they need me...
"Nah, we don’t really." someone responded.
“You know we do. Now both of you leave before I lose my patience, because it won’t be her I kill, it will be one of you unthankful bloodsuckers.” he snapped at them.
They could tell he meant business, and they got the hell out of dodge... if only they had taken me with them. I was beginning to feel claustrophobic, light headed, nauseous. I was surprised I was not dead yet....


Part II ------------------
Where am I? What happened? I can not remember... It is dark, so dark, and hard... I must be laying on the ground... ‘Creak’ my joints crack as I stretch out. My feet hit a solid surface. I get up on my knees and I start feeling around trying to find an exit. When suddenly someone throws open a door.

“Where am I?” I ask the man who opened the door, I should have asked who am I...
He sits down next to me, “You are at your house. Here drink this, you will feel better.”
He hands me a cup and I can hear liquid sloshing around, I eye him suspiciously, “What is it? and uh... Who are you?”
“I am Luke, Now drink.” He commands.
“Fine” I mutter. I lift the cup to my lips and drink. It is warm and... strange. I drank it all in one gulp. I can feel it cursing through my body, like some sort of freakishly strong alcohol. “What the heck is that!?”
“It is Sangue.” he replied with a slight accent.
“And what is that...” I ask, petrified to hear the answer.
He gives me a knowing smile and answers menacingly, “It is Italian for blood.”