I was sure that last time he brought the body into the castle before burying it in the ditches. Even though Abas said he hadn’t killed that man last week, I just assumed that he used his blood for food. Does this mean he had to stay hidden the days before he fed? But I’m certain Abas hadn’t disappeared before lastweek’s scream. I remember bumping into him every day, and now that I think back to it, it felt almost deliberate.
I guess, I don’t really know. But if I’m right, all I have to do now is wait until tomorrow, and hopefully, I will finally find him and get more answers.
The next morning, I knock at Abas’ door, half expectant, half sure he isn’t there. When I hear no answer from the other side, I nearly turn away. But something is telling me to open the door anyway. The bedroom is dark; only fading embers light the area closest to it. I give my eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness of the room, but at a quick glance, I see no one. I enter anyway, shutting the door behind me. Just to make sure, you know.
“Abas?” I say quietly, stepping further into the room.
I hear a muffled groan coming from the bed, and when I turn, I can make out a dark shape huddled in the corner. I walk over, kneeling in front of the mattress. Abas is lying there, buried under the covers. His black waves fall over his face, obscuring it from view. I gently move them aside, revealing him underneath. He blinks too slowly, eyes unfocused for a long time. He doesn’t look good; his once bronze skin is ashen and so dry it’s almost cracked. His eyes, dull and completely black, search the room aimlessly.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
When he hears my voice, he finally focuses on my face and lets out another quiet groan. I touch his cheek; it’s icy cold. Looking around the room, I see blankets hanging off the bottom of the bed and draped over the armchair. I gather them all and cover Abas’ body as best as I can. Then I go to the fireplace and add more logs.
“Are you sick?” I ask Abas when I return to his side. “Can you talk?”
He blinks a few times before opening his mouth. Instead of words, only a quiet, painful croak escapes.
“It’s okay, I’m here,” I reassure him.
“Drained…too much,” he whispers.
For a moment, I don’t understand what he’s saying until the meaning dawns on me.
“How can I help?” I say.
His eyebrows furrow at my words.
“Do you need blood?” I add.
“No,” he whispers, very slowly shaking his head. He’s not very convincing.
“Don’t do that, please. I know what drained means. You think I’ve never watched vampire movies?” I say.
He actually has the gall to roll his eyes. “Not…yours.” His voice is still barely audible.
“Why? What’s wrong with mine?” I ask.
“Control… Can’t…” he explains.
I think I understand. But he looks so wretched, I feel deeply wrong when I look at him. Something squeezes inside me. I can’t keep sitting here doing nothing.
I scramble off the bed determined to find something, anything, to help. I look around the room carefully. When I see a small desk in the corner, I check if there might be something useful in there. I only have to open one drawer to find the perfect thing. Of course, Abas has a knife in his bedroom desk. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I suspect it’s only a letter opener. The blade is completely dull, but I’m sure I can cause enough damage if I try hard enough.
I climb back on the bed, pulling Abas onto my lap. He groans again when I move him, but seems too weak to do anything about it. I try to figure out the best way of doing this. If I usedenough force, I could stab the side of my neck, but that seems a bit risky. I might use too much force and die before I can do any good. Even though I know the tendons might make this a bit tricky, I decide to use my wrist, cutting horizontally above the bone. But the blade is too dull, leaving only faint pink scrapes on my skin. I try applying more pressure, but it just hurts instead of cutting into the vein. Frustrated, I grumble, then glance at Abas. His eyes are closed, and his breaths come ragged and far apart, maybe one every twenty seconds. Each time he inhales, it sounds like it might be his last.
I take a deep breath before using as much strength as I can muster and stab myself in the arm. When the letter opener finally pierces through flesh, blood squirts from the wound and onto my lap. I swallow a scream and quickly press the tear to Abas’ mouth. My blood drips over his lips and onto his chin.
He doesn’t move at all, lying there completely unresponsive. I’m afraid he died before I could help him. Still, I keep my arm there for what feels like an eternity.
When his lips finally part, his icy inhale makes me shiver. The moment the first drop makes its way into his mouth, he gasps. His eyes flutter open for just an instant as he starts to slowly consume me. Nearly imperceptibly, he sucks at the wound, making the pain more acute. I close my eyes, suppressing a gasp as it overwhelms me before vanishing completely. The room fades away. The pain fades away. All that’s left is heat slowly growing inside me.
I open my eyes, and now there’s only Abas and me in this world.
Suddenly, I see my blood entering him. Like an anatomical model, I watch it moving through his mouth, slowly dripping into his throat, then his stomach. There, it spreads, being absorbed into every part of his body. First, his arteries start to fill, like crimson spiderwebs spreading across his skin. Thenveins plump up, juicy and purple. The more he drinks, the more animated he seems. Alive. Beguiling.
Abas’ tongue laps at the puncture, and the languid movement of his lips distracts me from the spectacle of his skin. My breaths quicken as my pulse slows down. I feel pulled and pushed, hollow and full.
His hands claw their way up my body, pulling me tighter, as closely as my bones allow. I melt into his flesh, trying to mould myself into every crevice. I feel his tongue digging deeper into the wound, trying to draw out more and more blood. I can feel it being dragged out of me, leaving my body and then entering his. It’s as mesmerising as watching Lumière’s “Danse Serpentine” for the first time, so breathtaking, I can’t look away.
