Blood and Coffee-Chapter 2
#3 of Blood and Coffee
I sucked in a noisy breath as I was shocked into wakefulness, scrambling at the air as if to stop myself from toppling off a cliff. You know that sort of vertigo feeling you get sometimes between sleeping and waking, that feeling that you're falling over and can't stop yourself? Yeah, nasty feeling. Some cultures say it's your soul returning to your body as you awaken, which is, I believe, horse cocky.
Someone had wrapped a cream and pastel colored quilted comforter tightly around me, snug as a bug in a rug fashion. I struggled out of the wrappings and rolled lazily out of bed, rolled right onto the floor where I sat with my legs sprawled, surveying my surroundings. Jack's room was not at all how I'd pictured a vampire's room to be like. The carpet and walls were the same as the rest of the house that I'd seen; thick red floor and half wood paneled walls, the top half painted a cream color with wall papered red motif border. His room was laid out pretty much the same as the guest room with the exception of a larger bed. There were no personal touches anywhere except for the quilt. The heavy, blackout drapes seemed to have failed their intended purpose, a tiny sliver of light jaunting happily across the room. Pushing myself to my feet I approached the seemingly harmless line of brightness, stretching my neck out to sniff the air as I neared closer. With some caution I offered my toe to it, making it dance a little pattern closer, "Do you think I'll blow up in smoke or more like turn into beef jerky.." Swallowing hard I braced myself for the worst and rammed tightly curled toes into that happy beam and got..nothing? I opened one eye and looked down to survey my adventurous phalanges. Nope, nothing. The sun felt overly warm, a bit unpleasant and unwelcome but offered me no grievous bodily harm. "Huh..bizarre."
In an act of victory and defiance I hopped hopscotch style back and forth over the path of sunlight until something against the foot of the bed yanked me to attention. I stopped and stared at it dumbly, wondering why I hadn't noticed it before. It was a trunk. A solid looking piece of wood furniture with no embellishments, no fancy carved designs. Totally plain, just sitting there. But that's why it threw me off. Trunks are used to hide things, right? Or put important stuff into. This room was so bland and well behaved that it was a relief to find something out of place here. See, the rest of the furniture in the room, while fine looking was obviously the stuff of modern times. Lots of bolts and screws that screamed, 'I'm easy to assemble!' This chest had been built using a more traditional hammers and joins approach, easily seen along it's edges. My main priority was finding Nikki and getting the hell out of dodge but..it could wait, just for a second.
I didn't even realize I'd moved until meeting the smooth surface of the trunk under my palms. No locks? Fine with me. With a gentle reverence I lifted the lid, face eager for whatever secrets Jack might be hiding in such a innocuous encasement. The overpowering scent of cloves blasted into the air, shocking my newly heightened and delicate senses into retreat mode. I threw myself backwards from the trunk and fell flat on my ass against the wall, the lid slamming loudly in my wake.
"Quilts?! That's fucking it? Quilts? Why would he care about-"
The smashing of glass sounded loudly from down the hallway, my sluggish heart jumping into my throat as I scrambled to my feet with my back pressed firmly against the wall, "What the fuck?"
Another loud crash responded. What the hell was happening, a war with grandma's favorite china set? Smash! I edged towards the door and yanked it open, sticking my head out to peer down the hall. Smash, tinkle, bam! The frequency of the violent noises increased when I stepped into the hallway, like a hive of angry bees.
"..Jack?"
The noises stopped as if my attention had startled them.
I waited for a heartbeat before relaxing against the wall, loudly exhaling my relief. "Somebody around here has some real fucking issues.."
In response came a most violent retort. The sudden crashing of glass and heavy wooden furniture echoed throughout the house , shooting electricity up my spine and rooting me to the spot in horror.
"Jack?!" I called again, the strangest smell of combined blood, herbs and strong alcohol wafting from further down the hallway to invade my senses and awaken what had been, until now, silent.
'Blood?' the Beast asked. But this time, instead of seeming a separate entity, it was me. It felt like we'd become one overnight, no longer apart. It was me that wanted, not something I could argue against. I was that Beast and I was completely starving. The sudden coppery metallic smell was too inviting. Somewhere closeby there was a feast laid out with my name on it.
I slid away from the wall and took my first steps towards temptation, feet moving quickly across the plush carpet that was the same color as my desire.
Red.
All I see is red.