Lair Intro - Captive

Blood sprayed into the hall from the initial strike.  It trickled from the end of the blade and into the large metal cup held under it.  Sonja's mouth hung open and her body shook as she watched.  He'd missed her organs this time, but the pain was still immense.  A scream passed her lips when she was bitten as well, the flesh tearing when He pulled to make it bleed more.  He drank heavily, even as she already bled, and once the cup was full, He moved it away to prevent overflow.  Sonja gasped and groaned as He wiggled the short sword, pulling it slowly out of her side.

The honey haired man chuckled, "You may go out and play tonight... if you can."  As He walked away with his goblet, Sonja's wounds continued to bleed.

Applying pressure as much as she could, Sonja stumbled down the hall and into her sparsely decorated room.  The walls were a dull ash gray, a purple glow cast on them from a solitary lamp by her brass-framed bed.  Opening a dark metal box atop her zebra wood dresser, the abuse victim took out gauze to stuff her wounds while they clotted.  Cloth bandages were wrapped tight around the affected areas, though she had difficulty with her large breasts.  She was forced to strap them down as well in order to deal with her neck wound.  Though she shook from anemia, her pale reflection showed her the determined look on her own face.

There was no way that she would pass up a rare night of personal freedom.  Even if she felt like she would die on her feet, she would still be there... in the world above.  It felt more like home to her than this place.  Even when He was with her, with His oppressive presence making her tremble, she enjoyed being up there on the city streets.  This was a gifted night of solitude!  For whatever reason, He was in a good mood, and Sonja didn't care why.  She slipped on a lengthy and sleeveless white turtleneck.  It would be enough to hide her bandages while still showing skin for Him to bite.

Both the white (which He loved to stain with red) and exposed arms would hopefully further His joy.  And maybe He would give her permission to stay out longer.  Oh, how she would love that...  Pulling on black leggings and putting a black belt over her mini-dress top, Sonja then put on black boots that zipped up on the inner side.  A long black coat draped over her arm, Sonja walked from her room to stand outside an open doorway.  Her short black hair hung in front of beautiful silver eyes, eyes locked onto the back of a plush leather recliner.

A single hesitant word slid past her soft pink lips. "Sire..."

"Are you going to sleep in here tonight, pet?" asked a voice that somehow blended boredom and amusement.  He swiveled in his chair to see her, goblet in hand.  A smile was met by the blood filled cup when He sipped, appreciative eyes trailing over her curvaceous form. "I'll bring you back when I feel like it; Naimeth will be visiting me shortly anyway."  Sonja kept her joy from showing on her face as she watched Him rise to His feet.  The rest of the goblet's contents were emptied into His mouth and swallowed, and after setting it on a little table, the man strolled casually towards her.

His arm wrapped around her tightly, purposely squeezing her wound and drawing a pained whimper from her mouth.  He hated it when she didn't give Him a reaction.  Almost as much as He hated exaggeration.  Just enough, but not too much.  Her reactions were always honest......  It hurt much less that way.  Once top side, the man let Sonja go. "I'll leave you at a Lore bar this time," casually He said, "And maybe you'll make a friend."  His sadistic smile at the thought sent a shiver down her spine as he faded away.

She would not reach out to anyone.  No one should have to go through what that led to...

Entering the bar, Sonja kept her coat on her arm and shied away from the crowd of dancing immortals.  Going to sit at the far corner of the bar, crammed right up against the wall, she ordered a Black Russian.  It was a curious thing that this short side of the bar with its two stools was empty.  People lined the other sides of the bar, even standing between the few seats to get their drinks and chat.  But this part was left here, as though reserved... avoided.  Sonja watched the people from behind the curtain of her bangs, coat on her lap as she sipped her drink and tried to ignore the throb of her wounds.