Chapter 19
I blinked a few times, the bright lights above my face scorched my eyes and I slammed the lids shut again. Big, fat, fluffy clouds clogged my brain and I tried so hard to focus. The only thing that was getting through to me though was the pain. I faintly remembered being stabbed with so many wooden stakes. But they shouldn’t hurt anymore. I healed quickly these days.
My eyes fluttered again and I jerked my head sideways to attempt to shield myself from the light, but for some reason, my arms, legs, and body did not respond. I popped my eyes open forcefully this time, needing to know what was holding me down. In the glaring light of a spotlight my eyes struggled to focus on the space around me. An antiseptic smell surged through my nostrils, making my stomach lurch.
God, how long had it been since I’d had some blood? My veins were burning, and that sensation, the one I’d had the night of Harold and Mrs. Harold, was simmering below the surface. I needed blood and I needed it now.
The room I was in appeared to be some kind of hospital room. The spotlight hung from the ceiling above me and swayed lightly over my head. Off to the right a metal table was covered with a white cloth, across which was laid a number of razor sharp instruments, glinting in the light. The rest of the room was gray and shadows clung to the walls. The spotlight was the only light in the room.
Using what little strength I had left, I craned my neck up, looked down at my body and a shriek escaped my lips.
My arms, legs, and stomach were skewered to the table on thick, bloody stakes that had been run through them. I struggled again against the stakes, but the pain rolled over me, smothering me, and I collapsed against the table, the room disappearing from my vision.
Bloody Little Secrets Page 30